Stories of a Warden

by Rosencranz

XII

Volume 1

XII

“But as they speeded down the field
Across a shallow dip
The little boy who thought to win
Lost his step and slipped...”
-D.H. Groberg, The Race

Monsoon season was coming. It had already begun to rain, the first storms just reaching the island. They lashed against the island with wind and water as clouds broke across its peak. Below the storms, three thoroughly soaked ponies huddled under a canopy of palm fronds, peering up at the mountain before them. They had left the safety and comfort of the cave half an hour ago and had found themselves stuck in the rain.

As he tried in vain to keep dry by edging closer to the tree, Roads glanced around the trunk at Summer. She was breathing hard, a pained look on her face, the bandages on her sides soaked with water and blood. They were disintegrating in her hooves as she tried desperately to hold them in place. Glancing up, she caught his eye.

“What?”

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Roads said, with a meaningful nod towards her bloodied hooves.

“I’m fine.”

“Clearly.”

“What’d you want me to do? Sit in that cave, and wait on you? Wait on big, tough Roads to save the day again?” Summer said.

There was a bitterness in her voice Roads couldn’t quite grasp. Roads had been trying to convince her to stay in the cave—or at least at the bottom of the mountain—ever since they decided to head up to the nexus. For some reason, she insisted on coming with them, with no regard for her injuries. Roads didn’t understand it. Couldn’t she see that this was counterproductive?

He’d tried to explain it to her. She’d grown progressively more vitriolic as he became more and more insistent.

“Uh—”

“No thanks, Roads. I can take care of myself. I can make it up the mountain just as well as either of you,” she said.

“Clearly.”

“Shut up, Roads.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t just wait for us to—”

“Because I don’t need you to do this for me!” she snapped.

Roads blinked, confused. “I didn’t say that we were doing this for anyp—”

“Mountain’s not getting any drier,” Chief interrupted. “Let’s go. Got a schedule to keep.”

“Exactly,” Summer said, glaring at Roads. “Get a move on.”

Roads gritted his teeth and followed Chief out into the open, Summer trailing along behind him. He flexed his wings experimentally and winced as pain shot through each one. That was bad. This side of the mountain didn’t look as steep as the one he had climbed with Chief, but in these conditions... flying would be nice. He missed his wings.

And as they made their way up the base of the mountain, Roads found he also missed being dry. They had not been walking long, but it felt like they had been on a slog to the summit for hours. As Roads dragged himself through yet another patch of mud that clung to the side of the slope, he tried to remember a time when he would have found the trek impossible. Had it really been less than a week since he left his home? It seemed like so much longer than that.

A sudden shout snapped him out of his thoughts. He twisted around to see that the muddy outcrop Summer had been crossing to follow him had given way, sending her sliding a few feet down the slope. With a loud thump, she thudded into a pile of rock and debris that the wind had ripped from the cliff. She winced as she got up, glancing down at her injuries. Her left side was oozing blood. She gritted her teeth as her horn lit and she began to levitate the raindrops around her. Bringing them together telepathically into a small orb, she hefted it over to her sides and used it to clean out the wounds.

“Are you okay?” Roads asked, peering off the slippery ledge down at her.

“Fantastic, thanks,” she said through gritted teeth.

Her horn lit again, and the blood flowing from her side spread itself across the wound. She held it there for a moment as she let it coagulate. Roads cocked an eyebrow. Summer didn’t know much in the way of spells, but her ingenuity with simple telekinesis was impressive. He watched as she brushed her mane out of her face with one hoof, and then crawled up to meet him and Chief on the ledge.

She looked from Roads to Chief, glancing at each with a steely glint in her good eye. Roads tried not to stare at the other one.

“Well?” She asked.

“What?” Roads replied. He was secretly hoping her fall had convinced her to finally turn back.

“We’ve got a schedule to keep, right? Or do you just like standing around in the rain?”

Roads groaned. Or not. Fine. If she wanted to kill herself trying to climb a mountain, that was her choice. He could barely make it up himself, he didn’t need to be worried about how Summer was doing.

His eyes flickered down to where her coat was matted with blood, and his stomach gave a turn.

Okay, still worried about how Summer is doing.

Summer caught his eye. “I’m fine, Roads. Now, head out.”

Roads sighed and turned around, following Chief across the ledge. On the other side of the outcrop, they found the ascent to be far less steep. They trekked in silence for the next half hour, shivering and bracing themselves against the winds. They stopped only when somepony slipped, which proved to be generally harmless on the mild incline—though by the time the summit was in view, all three were covered from mane to tail in mud.

Finally, the shallow slope gave way to a rocky cliff face just below the summit that stretched for dozens of yards in each direction. Roads sighed. On either side of them were dropoffs. There was no circumventing the cliff. He glanced up at Chief.

“Now what?” he asked.

Chief shrugged. “We climb.”

He moved up to the wall and reared back, finding a tiny hoofhold on a neigh-invisible outcrop. Pulling himself up, he managed to find another, and another, and another. Within a few moments he was halfway up the wall, scaling it, lizardlike, powerful muscles rippling in his back as he climbed.

Then he stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Roads asked.

“Shh.”

Chief clung to the rock, still and quiet, ears cocked, listening intently. His head swiveled and he narrowed his eyes, frowning.

“Hear that?” he asked.

“What?”

He paused for a moment, still listening.

“Hissing,” he said finally.

“What?”

“Start climbing. Now.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Roads asked.

“Chimeras.”

Roads’ blood ran cold. Oh, why did it have to be now, of all times?

“Where?” Summer asked.

“Ridge below us. Coming up.”

Roads glanced over his shoulder. Through the rain he could just barely make out dark shapes, feral and threatening, slithering across the slope below them. His heart leapt and his breathing grew rapid. He swallowed hard and tried to force back the fear. He’d faced down Princess, for Equestria’s sake. Surely he could handle a few chimeras!

I had the nexus then, he reminded himself. And I had wings the first time.

And now he had nothing. Nothing but the wall.

He trotted up to it, and started climbing, trying to follow Chief’s path up. Beside him, Summer did the same. Glancing up, he saw that Chief was almost to the top. Chief was moving faster, nimbly moving from one hoofhold to the next; Roads was lagging. Even Summer, wincing and gritting her teeth as the stitches in her sides threatened to give way, was still making better progress than he.

Of course, it would help if the slope weren’t so slippery. He had to test every tiny outcrop to make sure he didn’t lose his grip and—

Roads fell. Hard.

He had been gripping a root when suddenly it ripped free of the ground, and before he knew it, he was free of the wall, hanging free out in the air. Before he realized what happened, he hit the ground. He groaned and brushed himself off, once again thanking his innate resistance to blunt injury. Even without wings, being a pegasus had its advantages. Brushing his mane out of his face, he prepared to try to climb again.

A furious hissing erupted behind him.

He froze. Oh, please no.

His head twisted around. His stomach fell.

There were six of them, standing a few meters away. He could swear they were almost grinning. He glanced up at the wall. Both Summer and Chief were already at the top of the ledge, staring down at him. Chief was frowning. He stared hard at Roads and mouthed something.

“Slowly.”

Roads clenched his jaw, trying to get his heart to stop racing, and took a small, tense step forward. Behind him, a growl. The sound of a claw ticking against rock.

Another step. Another growl. He glanced back to look at the chimeras.

They charged.

Roads scrambled up the wall, flying up the cliff face, hooves barely touching one outcrop before moving to the next. Flames erupted from beneath him, singing his tail. He kept climbing, as below the beasts began to slither up the slope, digging into tiny crags with claws sharp as kitchen knives.

He tried not to think about the animals below him, instead focusing on the climb.

One hoofhold... then the next... pull yourself up... don’t grab there... faster, now, faster...

A claw dug into one of his rear hooves and he cried out in pain. He kicked hard and felt his hoof connect with something soft. There was a blood curdling screech, and then a wet thump as a chimera plummeted to the ground. Roads kept climbing.

He glanced up. Nearly there. His chest and forelegs were burning, his breath came fast and short. He was suffocating in the open air. Summer and Chief were staring down at him. Yelling something. He couldn’t make it out through the blood pounding in his ears. The edge was closing in, he was nearly there—

He slipped again. He missed a hoofhold and the slope seemed to fly away from him and then he was hurtling into space.

Something jerked—a hoof around his—and then he went flying back into the cliff. He broke his swing with his face. Everything faded as darkness closed around the edges of his vision. There was a ringing in his ears. A metallic taste filled his mouth.

Another jerk, and then he was rising. Scraping against the rocks. Moving up. Over the edge. Chief’s face, swimming before his. He went limp, legs giving out, and fell back to the ground. They were saying something he couldn’t hear. They were too far away. Slipping into the darkness...

_________________________________________________________

Catalpa sat at the table, fuming. She rapped a hoof against the table before her and glared at Princess. The other pony was being more obstinate than she had expected.

“We’ve appropriated Southwest Bank as a civilian refuge area,” she repeated. “Keep your troops out of there. I don’t think either of us want casualties among the innocents.”

“Innocents,” Princess snorted. “Traitors, you mean.”

“Innocents,” Catalpa repeated. “Civilians. Your civilians.”

“Ex-civilians. If they’re taking refuge under your guard, they’re actively participating in your rebellion.”

“If you move your stallions out of the area, there might not be any rebellion,” she pressed.

“Don’t you put responsibility for this on me,” Princess growled. “I didn’t initiate military action. You did. I want no bloodshed.”

Catalpa gave a bitter laugh. “Oh no? Is that what you told my brother?”

Princess narrowed her eyes. “And now we see what this is really about. Are you taking notes, Councilponies?” she said, glancing at the two Elders sitting beside Catalpa.

“We’ve discussed the matter with Councilmare Catalpa previously. It is not an issue,” the one on her right said stiffly.

“Of course not,” she said with a frown. She turned to Catalpa. “Move your troops from the area, or I give the order to attack.”

“You would attack Southwest Bank, now? The largest residential zone in the entire city, currently filled with civilians, and you want to start a war right in the middle of it? You keep this up, and even if you win, you’ll have nopony else left to rule.”

“Wherever the traitor guards are, that’s where I’m sending my stallions. You want to start this elsewhere? Move them,” Princess replied.

“I don’t want to start this at all!” Catalpa protested. Or, not yet, anyway, she added internally.

“You should have thought of that before you tried to kill me on that terrace,” Princess replied.

“You didn’t leave me any choice.”

“You’ve had choices, Catalpa. You’ve had options. Ever since I set you up with your Council position, you’ve had options...”

“How did I know you would bring that up?” Catalpa asked.

“Well, how could I fail to comment on the irony of being betrayed by my closest protege? From a seat I gave her?”

Catalpa could feel her fellow Councilponies staring at her. Her face reddened. That she had studied politics under Princess’ guidance—and indeed been introduced into the Council at her behest—was a fact she had tried to downplay amongst her fellow Councilmembers. And in her own head. She liked to think that she had merely used Princess, manipulated the older pony into helping her, but it simply wasn’t true.

She had met Princess after her brother died. In consolation, the monarch had offered to take her in, to educate her. And she had taken the offer out of pure lust for power.

She considered the rebellion her atonement.

“This is irrelevant, Princess. Move your troops, or I will—”

The door burst open. Catalpa twisted around to see Buckthorn rush in, breathing hard, shouting with what little air she had left.

“Councilmare! Southwest—Bank—attacked—”

Catalpa finally lost her composure. “What?!” She leapt from her chair, whipping around to face a grinning Princess. “What did you—”

“Distraction, dear. Seems you didn’t learn that much from me after all.”

“Why would you—”

“You forced my hand, Catalpa.”

“No—”

“My troops are tearing through Southwest Bank right now. Those deaths are on you.” She smiled. “I hope you can live with that, Catalpa.”

Shock and fury rippled through Catalpa’s body. For only the second time in her entire mind, her mind simply stopped. Her jaw dropped.

“No...”

“Goodbye, Catalpa. I look forward to executing you.”

And with that, she disappeared in a flash green light. Catalpa sank back onto her haunches.

“No...”

_________________________________________________________

Darkness. His head hurt.

“Roads...”

Everything hurt. He didn’t want to open his eyes.

“Roads!”

It was Chief’s voice. He definitely didn’t want to open his eyes.

He felt strong hooves wrap around his shoulders, and suddenly the world was shaking as his head throbbed and pulsed with pain. Groaning, he cracked his eyes, pressing one hoof to his face. It came away bloody. He squinted at Summer.

“How long was I out?”

She raised an eyebrow, thinking. “Oh, about twenty or thirty seconds. Maybe more.”

Roads groaned again and rolled over, getting to his hooves shakily. A bit of blood leaked from his muzzle, and he realized he couldn’t breath through his nose. He lifted a hoof to feel his face, but Summer knocked it away.

“Don’t,” she said. “Trust me. Your nose is broken. You don’t want anything touching that for a while.”

“Wonderful,” he said. His voice came out nasal and breathless.

Chief glanced down at him, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. “You’ll get used to it,” he said.

Roads rolled his eyes. “Well encouraging.” He glanced around. They appeared to be in some sort of crevasse, surrounded on all sides by massive boulders. “Where are we?” he asked.

“Hiding,” Chief replied.

“Hiding from what?”

“Chimeras.”

Roads’ heart sank. “Not again...”

“Better believe it,” Summer said.

“How many of them are there?” he asked.

“See for yourself,” Summer replied, gesturing to a gap in two of the smaller rocks behind him.

Roads managed to twist himself around in the narrow space to face the opening. Craning his neck, he peered out from between the rocks. His heart froze.

Chimeras. Flocks of them. They were gathered around the crater lake just below the ledge where the three ponies were hiding, basking in the rain and the heat of the nexus-warmed water. Clutches of eggs had sprung up around the banks since the last time he had been here.

“What’s going on with the eggs?” he asked.

“Monsoon season is their breeding season,” Summer said.

“Fantastic. Absolutely wonderful.” Roads pounded a hoof against one of the boulders in frustration. Why was it that nothing ever seemed to work out for them? Couldn’t they catch a break, just for once?

“What’s the plan?” he asked.

Chief and Summer glanced at each other. “We... we don’t really have one. Not yet, anyway,” Summer said. “You were only out for a half a minute. We just scrambled in here, it’s not like we’ve had time to mull this over,” she pointed out.

“Oh, it just keeps getting better,” he said bitterly.

He could feel a strange anger building in him, a curious heat that that he couldn’t quite explain. His breath came fast as his fury mounted, and again he pounded a hoof against the ground. There was an audible crack as red-hot sparks burst from his hoof and flew into the air. With a slight gasp, he raised the hoof to his face.

It was on fire.

“Roads—your hoof—”

“I know,” he said, staring at it pensively.

“Does that not—”

“It doesn’t hurt,” he said, staring into the small flame that flickered just at the edge of his hoof. He glanced up at Summer, a slow smile creeping across his face.

“It doesn’t hurt!” he repeated.

Summer just stared at him. He glanced out at the rippling, steaming lake.

“It’s the nexus,” he explained, a tinge of giddiness in his voice.

Chief stared at him, confused.

“My lines are still depolarized from the other day,” he said. “Truly depolarized, enough so that they can completely attune with the heat lines running through the mountain, even this far away from the nexus. If I can... sort of... cast in just the right way—”

He screwed up his eyes, focusing, and the flame at the tip of his hoof flared, billowing outward and burning brighter than before. Roads’ smile widened. Turning, he glanced out at the steaming lake. There were a few groups of chimeras, huddled around clutches of eggs, between them and the water’s edge. The rest were on the other side of the lake. If he could move fast enough...

“I think I might know how to deal with the chimeras.”

Summer glanced down at his hoof. “You’re going to try to attack something that breathes fire... with more fire?”

Roads shrugged. “The fact that they can produce it doesn’t mean they’re immune to it. Perhaps a few specialized organs involved in the production are flame-retardant, but the whole body? I doubt it.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Your knees are trembling.”

So they were. The idea of facing down the chimeras terrified him in ways that even Princess couldn’t. There was just something about them, about the way they moved and hissed and spat that sent shivers down his spine. But as scared as he was of the chimeras, he was even more afraid of being stuck on the island for another five months.

“I’m cold,” he said. “It’s raining.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “You two stay back here. I don’t want you getting in the way.”

Chief snorted. “I can handle myself.”

Roads shook his head. “No, I mean I literally want you out of the way of the flames. I don’t know how well I can control them.”

Chief gave a resigned grunt as Roads clambered over the rocks, out into the open. Roads heard Summer mutter something about “getting himself killed,” but he could barely make out the rest. It was hard to hear anything over the pounding in his ears.

He moved further out into the open, staring at the nesting chimeras, trying to keep his footing on the rain-slicked rock. They didn’t see him yet. He tread slowly and quietly, trying to sneak as close as possible. With each step, he felt the magic in his lines surge, growing stronger as he neared the nexus.

The storm was also growing stronger. The rain pelted him as the wind threatened to blow him off his hooves. In the haze of the storm, the beasts seemed to swim his vision. He struggled to keep his eyes focused, some detached part of him wondering if that had something to do with being knocked unconscious. Maybe he had a concussion. Maybe the broken bones in his face were messing with the intraocular pressure of his eyes. Maybe—

Maybe they saw him. A shadow of a chimera moved, flickered in the rain. Heads raised. Claws unsheathed.

Oh, they saw him alright.

He glanced to his sides, making sure none of the chimeras were sneaking up on him. It was hard to tell with the weather this bad. His stomach dropped as he realized Summer and Chief couldn’t see him anymore. Not that there was much they could do against a horde of chimeras, but still...

Roads squinted hard, peering into the haze. It didn’t seem like anything was there... He looked forward again.

The chimera standing right in front of him let out a low hiss. He froze, heart skipping a beat, staring at the creature. It was three meters away, staring at him intently, teeth bared. It was just taller than him, covered in rippling muscle, with claws the size of butcher’s knives. As he locked eyes with it, he felt a chill run through him. The eyes were cold, ruthless, and intelligent. The mouth below them thirsted for blood.

For a moment, they both stood, glaring at each other, unflinching and unmoving. A staring contest in the rain. Behind the chimera, Roads could make out other figures moving swiftly through the fog.

Coming for him.

A gout of flame erupted in the mist. Roads couldn’t tell who had moved first, he or the chimera, but the screeching coming from the smouldering beast told him he was faster. Around him, roars rang out across the summit. Shadows flitted through the rain, racing at him.

Roads reared onto his hind legs, forehooves extended, small fires burning at the end of each. A creature burst from the mist to his left, only to meet a faceful of flame and fall, hissing, to the ground, clawing at a melted face. Two more sprung forwards, charging towards him. Roads let loose two wild bursts of fire, catching one across the midsection and setting it on fire, and missing the other.

The second chimera barreled into him, sending him to the ground, pinning him by his left wing with razor-sharp claws. Fighting the urge to curl up into a ball to protect himself, Roads channeled as much energy as a could into his right hoof, and sent it crashing into the chimera’s head, unleashing a blistering fireball with the blow. The beast went rigid with shock, then collapsed onto him.

As he rolled out from underneath the body, Roads saw that most of its skull had been seared away. He felt nausea rising in his stomach, but he forced himself to focus. Before he could get to his hooves, three more chimeras were upon him.

He scrambled away, wincing as glancing swipes drew streaks of blood from his back and sides. As he rolled over, they opened their mouths, all at once, sending flames shooting towards him. Without thinking, he raised a hoof, trying to manipulate the fire.

It didn’t work. The flames weren’t his to control. Heat washed over his chest and forelegs, singing away bits of his coat as he rolled desperately away—and right into the claws of two more chimeras. One opened its mouth to incinerate him, but he sent a wave of flames rolling into both creatures, and as they ducked away from the blast, he got to his hooves and scrambled back over a large boulder to his right.

Pressing his back to the rock, he peered out into the mists. He could hear hisses and roars all around him, but he saw nothing. He realized with some satisfaction that the chimeras probably couldn’t see him either. Maybe he could use that to his benefit...

Catching his breath quickly, and checking himself for injuries—nothing life threatening, thank Celestia, just a few burns and gashes—he steeled himself, trying to regain his focus.

Come on, Roads. You can’t die out here.

Gritting his teeth, he dashed out from behind the boulder, sprinting in the general direction of the lake. Dark shapes emerged to his left and he sent a blast of flame in their general direction, then turned to his right and kept galloping. He glanced behind him, trying to see if he was being pursued.

He was. The chimeras could hardly see him, but the sounds of his hoofsteps were unmistakable. Rearing onto one leg, he spun around, whipping his foreleg in a wide arc and sending a massive semi-circle of flame crashing into the group of would-be pursuers. He pivoted again, galloping once more towards the lake.

Just as he got back to speed, a silhouette formed in front of him. Realizing it was too close to dodge or attack, Roads ducked a shoulder and barreled into the chimera, rolling to the ground. Letting his momentum carry him into a partial somersault, he got back to his hooves before the chimera could recover. He ended its life with a quick burst of flame.

Before he could begin running again, however, something crashed into him from behind, forcing him to the ground. The chimera hissed and clawed, and as Roads struggled to roll over, he felt sharp claws dig into his shoulder. He screamed out in pain, letting fire gush from his hooves as he fought against the beast. Another caught up to him, and leapt onto his sides, nipping at his ribcage, unable to let loose a fatal fiery breath for fear of burning its fellow animal.

Finally, he managed to flip onto his back, protecting himself from the onslaught with his legs. As he struggled to protect himself from claw and tooth, a tiny voice in his head spoke to him in somber, quiet tones.

This is how it ends, Roads.

Another chimera burst from the mist and threw itself onto the pile.

They’ve all caught you now.

He struggled and writhed, sending fireballs every which way as he lashed out at the chimeras.

Don’t fight it.

He drew his forehooves up over his head, and his burned wing over his chest as he kicked out with his rear legs.

You’re going to die. It’s alright. There’s nothing to worry about. Just let them devour you.

He caught one of them in the face with a fireball, but it was soon replaced by another, equally vicious chimera.

It will all be over soon. Just slip quietly into the darkness...

Roads felt his eyes growing heavy. Something told him he had lost a lot of blood...

So, he thought, this is what it feels like to die...

_________________________________________________________

Rain.

Redbud liked rain. Mostly because it was a change. The island stayed warm and balmy, day in and day out—until monsoon season hit. That was his favorite time of year. It broke the monotony at gale force. It kept things interesting. And Redbud liked interesting.

He was a pony with a short attention span, and he reveled in interesting. Though, to be fair, as interesting as the coming monsoon season was, the impending battle was what held his attention at the moment.

Redbud was standing at one end of the Southwest Bank bridge, twisting a length of straw in his mouth and staring down the mass of troops milling about the other. Glancing down at Buckthorn, who was tittering nervously at his side, he flashed a wide smile.

“See?” he said. “They ain’t gonna do anythin’. Just gonna stand there. Prob’ly waitin’ around for Princess to come along an’ tell ‘em what to do.”

“I don’t know,” Buckthorn responded. “I just... it seems like... I dunno. I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Redbud rolled his eyes. “Ah trained half’a these ponies mahself. I think I know ‘em pretty well. They won’t attack their own Captain unless Princess really puts the heat to ‘em. ‘Specially not with them at mah back, at least,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder to the group of guards stationed, armed and ready, among the shacks and houses of Southwest Bank. “An’ certainly not right around all these civilians.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. They’ll just stand there, lookin’ for all the world like they’re tough enough to do somethin’, but unless Princess comes along, not a one of ‘em’s gonna move anytime ‘fore midnight. And then that’ll only be to go to bed,” Redbud said.

Buckthorn frowned. “I dunno. I just wish Catalpa knew they were here. She’s in peace talks right now, and I don’t think she knows Princess has moved her troops.”

Redbud laughed. “Oh, Catalpa knows. Ah sent an envoy up to her about an hour ago. She’ll sort things out. An’ in the meantime, Ah’ll stand here an’ enjoy the drizzle an an’ make faces at all the stallions who were too stupid to follow their captain off to the Council’s side. I don’t think there’s anythin’ to worry a—wait, what’re they doin’ down there?”

He peered down the aged wooden bridge, trying to make out what was going on. Somepony new had just galloped up to the troops, and appeared to be giving orders. Within a few moments, the unruly mob of guards had rearranged themselves into formal battle lines.

Redbud raised an eyebrow. “Ah stand corrected.” He turned, leaned over the edge of the bridge, and spat his straw into the rippling stream below. He drew his spear from his pack and rested the butt against the wooden slats of the bridge. Glancing over his shoulder to the muddy shores of Southwest Bank, he called out to his stallions. “Looks like we’re in for some weather!” he shouted. “Y’all ready?”

The mighty collective roar of the guards was all the response he needed. His grin tightened into a challenging smirk. It looked like things were about to get real interesting. Oh, how he liked interesting.

He turned to the other army. “Y’all hear that? Better be ready, we’re waitin’ for ya!” he called.

Technically, it probably wasn’t a good idea to bait his enemy like that but... today was a good day. He felt alive today. It wasn’t often that something this big happened. Rather have war than a Monday mornin’, he thought to himself.

“Excuse me!” came the response. “I wish to have a parlay.”

“You wanna what now?” Redbud responded.

“A parlay! A talk!” the voice said.

The speaker, a charcoal black pony, tall and lanky, walked out into the center of the bridge. Redbud’s jaw tightened. Riverbirch. The most annoying, insipid pony in the guard—and, frustratingly, one of the best spear-stallions Redbud had ever had the misfortune to instruct. And, of course, Princess’d picked him to be Guard-Captain after Redbud’s betrayal. Sounds about like the kinda pony she’d trust, he thought.

“Well, we’ll talk then, if you insist,” Redbud called out. Picking up his spear, he glanced down at Buckthorn once more. “If this lily-livered son-of-a-salamander makes a move, scurry on down to the Council’s quarters an’ let Catalpa know. ‘Cause if he tries somethin’, I’ve got the feelin’ all hell’s gonna break loose, an’ you don’t wanna be around when it does.”

Buckthorn nodded silently as Redbud hefted his spear over his shoulder and trotted out to meet Riverbirch.

“Ar’right, River, whadd’ya want?”

Riverbirch smirked back at. “I want you to tell your stallions to stand down and move out of Southwest Bank,” his tone was smooth and cool, devoid of any emotion save condescention.

Redbud outright laughed at that. “Interestin’ proposal, River, but Ah’m gonna have’ta turn ya down.”

“Well, then,” Riverbirch said, without the slightest flicker of emotion or change of tone, “I suppose I’ll just kill your men and burn Southwest Bank to the ground.”

“Try it, an’ I’ll kill ya.”

Riverbirch raised an eyebrow. “Interesting response. I doubt anything of the sort will happen. Now, I’ll give you one last chance to leave Southwest Bank, or I’ll kill you—and everypony you care about.”

Redbud glared at Riverbirch. The other pony did not show so much as a hint of feeling or emotion. Damned psychopath, Redbud cursed.

“Those are innocents holed up in there, River. Even you wouldn't stoop to that kinda massacre.”

“Those are traitors,” Riverbirch replied. “Traitors deserve to die.”

Redbud nodded at the other pony, one hoof to his chin, as if in thought. He paused for a moment, sizing up the army behind Riverbirch.

“Well,” he said finally. “Ah think Ah’m gonna have’ta turn ya down. Sorry, bud.” Redbud turned to walk back to his side of the bridge. “Oh, an’ I look forward to killin’ ya, ya damned creep,” he called over his shoulder. “Ah don’t know why I let you inta the guard in the first pl—”

There was a flicker, a lightning fast movement of shadow behind him, and Redbud leapt forwards.

“aaAHH!” He let loose a feral roar as a spear plunged through his left hind leg, right where the back of his neck had been a split second ago.

Twisting, he saw Riverbirch standing behind him, hooves around the spear, a devilish grin on his face. He suppressed a groan as the other pony ripped the spear out of his leg. Grabbing his own spear from the ground, Redbud pulled himself to his hooves before River could strike again. He leveled his spear at the other pony.

“Dirty bastard. Attackin’ me with my back turned. I’ll show you how’ta—woah!”

The sound of spears smashing together echoed across the bridge as Redbud parried River’s spearthrust, and smacked him across the head in a swift riposte. Riverbirch stumbled backwards, weaving as if disoriented from the blow, but in a flash he was charging again, harrying Redbud with a series of thrusts.

Redbud backed down the bridge, trying to avoid getting stabbed, having trouble working with only three legs. He found it was difficult to balance with his spear in his hooves, enough so that it was all but impossible to get a decent counterattack in between River’s jabs and thrusts. Grunting with the exertion of fending off the attacks, he moved further and further back down to the end of the bridge.

Taking advantage of a split-second gap in River’s relentless assault, he glanced over the other pony’s shoulder to see Princess’ guards watching intently. They’re hoping if they can take me out, they can avoid a skirmish, he realized. It was a stupid plan—the rest of the traitor guard would fight on without him, but he knew it was probably Princess’ best bet. Perhaps River had just been trying to bait him earlier... He glared into the eyes of his attacker, and even from the other side of a spear-point felt a cold, reptilian bloodlust.

Perhaps not.

Not that it mattered. Redbud had wanted a fight, and Redbud had gotten a fight. And now it was probably going to kill him. He could already tell. The spear was getting heavy in his hooves. There was a spreading darkness around the corners of his vision. He knew he’d lost a lot of blood. River’s spear must have punctured an artery in his leg.

Oh well, he thought to himself. A spear duel’s not a bad way to go. He glared at River. At least, as long as I can take this bastard with me.

The thought of sacrificing himself, of taking a body shot to get close to River flashed through his mind. It would work, he knew it. It would kill him, but it would work...

A thought occurred to him. It might not kill me if it’s not a body shot... he realized. A smile gathered around the corners of his lips. He had a plan. And Redbud quite liked having plans.

When the next spear-thrust came, he leapt back with as much force as he could muster—which wasn’t much, given his punctured leg. But it got the job done. The following jab came from a bit too far away, and was a bit too extended.

Redbud took it in the left foreleg. It pierced all the way to the otherside.

He didn’t even wince, choosing instead to whip his body around, pulling River closer to him, and loosing his grip on the spear. He let the momentum swing his right hoof around, bringing his own spear in a tight arc that ended several inches under the skin of River’s neck.

The charcoal pony’s eyes widened as he let go of his spear, falling backwards, clinging to his throat. Breathing hard and wincing through the pain, Redbud pushed himself forward, and sank his spear through River’s midsection, then, with a grunt, heaved himself to the right. He landed heavily on his side, gasping for breath and trying not to let the pain in his legs overwhelm him.

He closed his eyes for a second—just one second—to gather himself. When he opened them again, River’s army was charging.

He sighed. He was stranded on the bridge, alone, with two wounded legs, no spear, and an army bearing down on him. This was it.

It’s not a bad way to go, for sure, he thought. An’ at least I took somepony with me.

He glanced up at the army. They were almost upon him now. Redbud closed his eyes and laid back against the bridge. It wouldn’t be long now until one of their spears ended his life. And then all would be darkness.

Well, he thought, death’s a change. Should be interestin’.

Author's Note:

Thanks to my editor, for his dedication to this fic, and to embarrassing me on national television, no matter how many times I tell him it’s not gonna happen.

And thanks for reading, of course!

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[AntiquatedAnnomaly]

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