Lunar Orbit

by Benman

The Weather Merchants

“You have to be wary when you’re on land,” Mom said. “The groundbound aren’t like us.”

Thunderbird rolled her eyes. “I know. You said.” She beat her wings harder, as if she could pull the Cloud faster and escape. Of course, Mom was pulling in the harness beside her, along with the rest of the family—the Cloud was huge, built from as much rain as they could all pull, and the three rooms carved into the cloudstuff all fit easily into the top third of its mass.

“You don’t know,” Uncle Ranger said from above. He kept watch instead of pulling because of his weak wing. No one would ever tell Thunderbird what had happened to it, but she was pretty sure he’d been hurt in a war. She’d noticed the way he got quiet whenever someone mentioned the Legion. “You’ve heard about it. That’s different.”

“I’ve watched,” Thunderbird said. She was sick of watching. Every time they got to a town, she always stayed in the Cloud and looked at the big ponies while they went down and did all the interesting things. But now she had her mark, so it was time for her to learn the other half of the family trade.

“You’ve watched,” said Mom, “but you’ve never dealt with ponies outside the family. They’re not like us. They’ll get you for everything you’re worth, if you let them.”

“I know. I’ll be good.”

Mom and Uncle Ranger burst out laughing.

Thunderbird glowered at nothing and beat her wings even harder.

Mom recovered first. “Oh, my little bird,” she said. “I was your age, once. If you stay out of trouble, I’ll drink the Cloud.”

“Then why are you telling me this?”

“To make sure you can handle trouble,” said Uncle Ranger. “You’re not some citystuck sucker. You’re a free pegasus.”

“They’ll get you for everything you’re worth, if you let them,” Mom said again. “So don’t let them.” She smiled, showing teeth. “When we’re down there, you get them first.”

Bonfire trotted down the largest of the town’s five streets, dodging the grown-ups who hurried this way and that. Usually he loved nothing more than to watch all the ponies going everywhere and doing everything, but today was going to be even better. It felt funny, leaving the castle on his own. Almost scary, but a good kind of scary.

He’d had to argue, to get out here. At first Dad wanted to come too, just to watch Bonfire get his shoes. That wasn’t fair, though. Mom always said that he could go into town without a grown-up once he turned eight years old. Well, now he was eight, and she’d said. It still took a while before Dad let him.

The shops around him seemed bigger than usual. Most were two whole stories tall, pressed closer together than anything back home in the castle. Bonfire could see unicorns haggling inside every third shop. Most of the customers were freeholders, except for a few serfs and earth ponies. The Weather Market started tomorrow, and ponies were getting ready.

In what felt like no time at all, he was at the smithy door, the big wooden one with the iron bands. Bonfire pushed. The door was heavier than he was, and it moved slowly, but he pushed and pushed until it was all the way open.

Beyond was a single big chamber filled with wonderful things. There were racks of strange tools, a broken plow as big as a grown-up, and a half-finished suit of shiny steel barding. And of course there was the forge. Just now it was cold, but the brick hearth was still the grandest thing in the room. Next to it stood Solid Steel, with a broad knife and whetstone in his horngrip.

Steel put down his things and sketched a bow.“Young master Bonfire. Are you ready?”

“Yes!” Bonfire rushed forward and stuck out his hoof.

Steel chuckled. “Not just yet. I need my tools, first.”

Bonfire froze. “Oh.” He bounced from hoof to hoof as Steel puttered around, collecting pincers and rasp, hammer and nails, and finally the shoes themselves. It took forever.

Finally Steel took Bonfire’s forehoof in his red-orange horngrip and turned it face-up. “Hold still,” he said.

Bonfire held still. The rasp and clippers trimmed down his hoof. It felt weird, but it didn’t hurt.

Once the hoof was smooth, Steel nailed the shoe in place with tiny hammerstrikes that shook Bonfire’s whole leg. It went on and on, and also it took no time at all. Then they were on to the next hoof.

Steel was hammering in the third shoe when Bonfire saw the filly. She was peeking from behind a doorframe, but she stood tall when she saw Bonfire looking. She was a deep blue, almost purple. Her mane was the green of old bronze, and her eyes were orange like fire. She was just barely bigger than him, and when she walked forward, he heard the clink of metal shoes on the stone floor.

Bonfire blinked. “What are you doing here?”

The filly giggled. “I live here, silly.”

“Starling,” Steel said without looking up, “I told you to stay upstairs when I’m working.”

“She should stay,” said Bonfire. He was a big pony, now that he had his shoes, and noble besides. Steel should listen.

Starling came forward, stopping just far enough that she was in no danger from stray hammerstrikes. “Are you a traveler? I haven’t seen you in town before.”

“I live in the castle,” he said. “I’m Bonfire.” As he spoke, Steel set down his newly-shod hoof and took up his last remaining leg.

She shrugged. “The castle is almost as good. I’m Starling.”

“I heard. Isn’t that a pegasus name?”

“It’s my name. I’m a unicorn.”

Bonfire nodded solemnly. “Is Solid Steel your dad?”

“Yeah. He’s a smith, but I’m gonna be a knight.”

“Me too! My mom’s the best knight there is.”

“Nuh uh!” said Starling. “Flamerider is the best knight. Everyone knows that.”

“Flamerider was from Canterlot. It doesn’t count if you’re not from Tintagelding.”

“Who’s your mom, then?”

“Bastion!”

“She’s a pretty good knight,” Starling allowed.

Mirror Sheen strode through the grass two steps behind her closest ally, the one who had stolen her throne. She stepped high, keeping her gown from dragging in the muddy field between the town walls and the weather merchants’ camp. The gown was an elegant cerulean, chosen to set off her silver-white coat without overshadowing Bastion’s garb, a tawny dress which should have looked modest over her slate gray coat. Thanks to Bastion’s ruined face, marred by three ragged scars and the perpetual glower from her remaining eye, she looked fierce whatever she wore.

It was a fitting appearance, Mirror Sheen mused. Bastion was no politician, no matter what rank her scheming husband had managed to grab for her. Even for this simple welcome party, Bastion brought half a dozen armored guards stomping through the mud behind her. Had Mirror Sheen been in her place—as was her right—she would have brought courtiers instead.

“I don’t like this,” Bastion said.

Mirror Sheen glanced at her, then looked ahead to where the merchants were setting up. “It seems fine to me,” she said. “Their cloud looks big enough, and the camp is coming along well.” Tintagelding’s serfs were almost done erecting a fence around the campsite, driving the last of the stakes into the ground.

The pegasi themselves were pitching tents and carrying trunks down from their cloud. It was a big cloud, thrice the size of a serf’s hut, with a healthy gray shade that boded well for this year’s harvest. The upper third was smooth and sculpted, speckled with neat square windows, all atop an amorphous blob that looked almost natural.

“The camp is fine,” Bastion said, “so long as those ponies stay inside it. I don’t want them spending any more time among us than they have to.”

“The weather merchants? They’re no worse than any other merchants.” Dearie and her family were, if not exactly honest, then at least close enough to work with. It had been far too long since they’d visited.

“Mm,” said Bastion. “Those trunks they’re unloading. They brought more than just weather to trade.”

“I should hope,” said Mirror Sheen. They needed the rain most of all, but there were any number of goods that Tintagelding couldn’t make on its own.

“My husband wanted to buy any bloodwort they have,” said Bastion. “He used our last in curing your daughter’s pox.”

Mirror Sheen shook her head. “They won’t have any bloodwort.”

“He said it’s important.”

Mirror Sheen managed not to roll her eyes. “I don’t doubt it’s important. Your husband knows more herb lore than any pony I’ve met. But I know trade routes. Bloodwort comes from the buffalo lands, so you’ll find it on caravans coming by the western routes through the Earth Pony Republic. Weather comes from the south and southeast, mostly from the Haydriatic Sea. Important or no, these pegasi won’t have your herb, and asking would only make us look ignorant.”

They were close, now. Two familiar pegasi broke away from the group and flew over to meet them. Dearie, whose light pink flanks were now starting to get fat; and Ranger, the big brown brute. Dearie flashed a small smile her way, while Ranger looked over their guards like a dentist evaluating a rotten tooth.

They met at the gap in the fence that served as a gate. “It’s good to see you, Dearie,” said Mirror Sheen. “After all these years, I thought you must’ve switched to a different route.”

“Routes are for you groundwalkers. The wind blew us your way this time, is all. I hope the baron is well?”

“Fallen in battle,” said Mirror Sheen. It was getting easier to talk about her husband; she managed to keep her voice level, this time. She plowed ahead before Dearie could offer any shallow condolences. “This is his sister, Bastion. She rules Tintagelding as baroness regent until my daughter comes of age. Bastion, allow me to introduce Dearie of the pegasi, and her brother Ranger.”

Dearie bowed. “My lady.”

“Welcome to our lands,” said Bastion. “May your stay be fruitful.” She cleared her throat. “Mirror Sheen will handle Tintagelding’s negotiations for your weather.”

“I get why she’s here,” said Ranger. “Why did you come out here, my lady?”

Bastion returned his stare. The two shifted their weight, as though they were about to charge each other. Mirror Sheen took a cautious step back.

“Two reasons,” Bastion said at last. “First, I’d like a count of your group.”

“Six,” said Dearie. “There’s me and my brother here—” she tapped Ranger’s side, and some of the tension left his neck— “there’s my husband, his mother and father, and also my oldest daughter. I have two more children, but they’ll stay up on the cloud.”

Bastion nodded. “Second, to explain how your visit here will work. This camp is yours for three days. When the sun is up, you’ll be welcomed in the market square, to do your business with our farmers and tradesponies. When the sun is down, your ponies will be in your camp and no one else will. We’ll post sentries to make sure everyone stays where they’re supposed to. You will only go to the farms when you’re making weather, and you will be escorted by myself or Mirror Sheen when you do so.”

“The curfew is fine,” said Dearie, “but we need to go to your farmers to set up deals, not just to make rain.”

Bastion shook her head. “I’d like to keep your people separate from my people wherever we can. Such meetings have ended badly, in the past. You’ll trade with the farmers at the market, where we can keep an eye on things.”

“Not flexible enough,” said Ranger.

“He’s right, I’m afraid,” said Dearie. “We’ll both miss some valuable trading opportunities.”

Bastion set her jaw. “Nevertheless.”

Mirror Sheen suppressed a sigh. Everyone was setting up to argue about the first idea they had, and no one was thinking about how to get what they actually wanted. It would have been funny if it weren’t so typical.

She cleared her throat. “Bastion, you’ve already suggested the solution to this problem. You or I can escort them to the farms, to observe the deals and make sure nothing goes amiss.”

“Hm,” said Bastion. “If you’re willing to watch them, then I suppose so.”

“Good,” said Mirror Sheen. “Dearie?”

She shrugged. “It’ll do.”

“Fine,” said Bastion.

When Mirror Sheen and Bastion returned to the castle, the first thing they did was go straight to Triumph, the captain of guards, to make sure sentries were posted around the weather merchants’ camp. Bastion cast a confused glance at Mirror Sheen, probably wondering why a merchant’s daughter was following her to military meeting.

Mirror Sheen just smiled back. As long as Bastion didn’t ask aloud, Mirror Sheen wouldn’t have to say how certain she was that Triumph and Bastion would muck up the negotiations, if left to their own devices. Those two wouldn’t recognize diplomacy if Queen Corona’s personal ambassador gave them a signed treaty describing the term. Fortunately, Mirror Sheen convinced the warhorses not to post guards inside the camp itself.

“One other thing,” Triumph said. “Do they have any news about the troubles in the Earth Pony Republic?”

Bastion shook her head. “The merchants came from the opposite direction. They brought news from the Pegasus Empire, and were asking what we’ve heard from the Republic. It’s their next destination, and our information is more recent than theirs.”

Triumph frowned. “I don’t like this. I was worried when it was just the refugees and stories about monster attacks. But now we’ve heard nothing from the Republic for… how long is it, now?”

“Four months,” said Bastion evenly.

“Right. One month of quiet was a relief. Two was weird. By now… for all we know, Discord’s legions could’ve overrun the lot of them.”

Mirror Sheen frowned. It was earth pony refugees who had caused her husband’s death. “What does this have to do with us?”

“If something dangerous is happening, we need to prepare,” said Triumph. “Maybe we should be getting ready for monster attacks, or more refugees, or who knows what. We don’t know. We need to send scouts.”

Mirror Sheen nodded. The last thing they needed was even more trouble from the dirt ponies.

“Any expedition would have to be strong enough to defend itself,” said Bastion, “and the journey would take months. If something dangerous is coming, we can’t afford to send an expedition.”

“But the merchants are going there anyway! We can get them to come back here and report, after. Pay them or something, I guess.”

“We’d have to trust the merchants,” said Bastion.

“They have no reason to lie to us,” said Mirror Sheen. “We just have to trust their self-interest. I think it could work.”

They were interrupted when Bonfire rushed into the room, followed by Beauty Blue. “Mom! Look!” Bonfire reared and waggled his forelegs. Torchlight glinted on his steel shoes.

Bastion broke away and inspected her son’s hooves, turning her face to see with her good eye. “It’s sturdy work,” she said. “Were you scared?”

“Of course not!”

“Good. Let’s go show your father. I know he’ll want to see this.” She glanced back. “We’ll continue this later.”

Triumph headed off, and Mirror Sheen was alone with her daughter.

“Mom?” said Beauty Blue. “I’m older than Bonfire. Why does he have shoes and I don’t?”

“You can have shoes if you want them,” said Mirror Sheen. “Bonfire has shoes because he will be a knight. Soldiers wear them, for marching and for striking.” She gathered her courage. “Do you want to be a knight?”

“Dad was a knight.”

Mirror Sheen swallowed. “He was.” Sun and Stars, if Beauty wanted to learn war to stay connected to her father, Mirror Sheen didn’t know how to dissuade her…

“That’s why he died,” said Beauty Blue, “isn’t it?”

“Yes. He was killed in a battle.”

Beauty Blue nodded. “I don’t want to be a knight.”

Mirror Sheen let out the breath she’d been holding. “Okay.”

“Mom? Will Bonfire get killed in battle, too?”

“He won’t be a knight for years and years.”

“Right. But when he is? Will he die?”

Mirror Sheen sighed. “I don’t know.”

Bonfire hurried through the town . It hadn’t been easy to sneak out of the castle, but today was the Weather Market. He had to see it.

Except he didn’t know where it was. The town looked like normal. It was busy, and on any other day he would have loved to watch the ponies go by, but today he was looking for pegasi. Where were they?

A shadow passed over him. Of course. They were up. There were two of them. Bonfire watched them fly, cutting through the air as they descended. They landed in front of the smithy and went inside.

Bonfire went around to the smithy’s back door. It was open, and he could see the pegasi inside, talking to Solid Steel. The bigger pegasus wore heavy panniers that clinked when he moved.

“—not much time,” Solid Steel was saying. “I won’t be able to do anything complicated before you leave.”

“That’s fine,” said the big pegasus. “It’s simple work.”

“Alright. Let’s take a look, Mister… I didn’t catch your name?”

“Because he didn’t say,” said the other pegasus.

The big one shot her a look. “Watch it, little bird.” He turned back to Steel. “Call me Ranger. And I need you to complete these.” He took a pannier in his mouth and upended it over the dirt floor. Half a dozen metal things clattered out, all sharp angles and wicked edges.

Bonfire moved closer, hiding behind the big broken plow to get a better look.

Solid Steel’s face was tight. “You want me to make lightning darts?”

“Just the shafts. I’ve got enough heads, and that’s the hard part.” Ranger poked one of the things. Each was as big as his hoof, with three barbed blades coming to a point, and an empty socket at the back. “I’ll want shafts two thirds of a leg long, with one end blunt and the other made to fit the heads. Bronze will do, but lead would be best.”

“I had a cousin got killed by those,” said Solid Steel. “I’m not making darts for you to drop on unicorn soldiers.”

Ranger rolled his eyes. “Don’t plan on dropping them on soldiers. I’m not about to die because some lord or other says boo. Storm and thunder, I started trading weather to get away from all that.”

“But you want lightning darts.”

“Listen, friend. You live in a city. You’ve got walls to keep the world out, and soldiers to do the killing for you. That’s wonderful, truly.” Ranger’s smile wasn’t quite straight. “But my family spends our days out in the wild. If bandits set on us, or a sphinx tries to eat us, or what have you, then we need to protect ourselves. So yes, I need lightning darts.”

Steel pawed at the ground. “I suppose that’s fair,” he said. “So long as you can pay.”

Ranger reached into the other pannier. Bonfire heard the clatter as he dropped coins onto the table.

Solid Steel frowned. “Never seen money like that before.”

“Pegasus coins. Silver is silver, friend. You’ll want to weigh them, of course.”

“Boo,” whispered a voice in Bonfire’s ear.

He jumped, but managed not to shout. Starling was right on top of him, grinning like she’d eaten the last piece of cake.

“You shouldn’t be here,” whispered Starling. “Let’s go before my dad sees you.”

“So what if he sees me?” said Bonfire. “I’m just watching.” But all the same, he followed Starling out the back door. The big ponies didn’t look up from their haggling.

“If you wanted to sneak in someplace,” she said as soon as they were out under the sun, “you should’ve just told me. I’m the best at it.”

“I didn’t want to sneak anywhere. I just wanted to see a pegasus.”

“I guess,” said Starling. “But you still shouldn’t sneak into my dad’s forge.”

Bonfire blinked. “I thought you said you liked sneaking into places.”

“Sure. But this is my dad’s. It’s different.”

“Who’s sneaking where?” came a voice from above.

Bonfire looked up to see the girl pegasus from inside, hovering like a hummingbird and grinning like a cat. “How’d you get here?”

“I flew. You groundbound never look up. First rule of sneaking, kid: go where they don’t expect you.” She lowered herself to the ground. “For instance. Say you want to sneak into the pegasus camp. What do you do?”

Bonfire and Starling glanced at each other. “Do it at night?” said Starling.

“No! That’s when they’ll be watching for you! Whenever my mom sneaks into a place, she does it in the day, by going with a bunch of ponies who are supposed to be there.”

“Oh!” said Starling. “So that’s how you’ll get us into your camp?”

“Yeah. But we can’t go with Ranger. He’s no fun.”

Starling nodded. “I’ll get some cloaks for me and Bonfire. What’s your name, anyway? I’m Starling.”

“I’m Thunderbird. I’d better get back to Ranger, for now, or he’ll start looking for me. I’ll come up with an excuse to split up and then meet you here.”

“Great,” said Starling. “See you.”

Author's Note:

This was going to be the first of many planned sequels to An Earth Pony Orphan In The Unicorn Court. In hindsight, I'm really glad I went with the self-contained installments approach to that series. That way, at least I got the one story published before I left the fandom.

Comments

[PresentPerfect]

Aw, dammit, I wish there was more! D: