Crosshair trots over to one of the benches, where Flamberge have been set back to rest some more. Having a very important message to tell him “Flamberge! The King is here! he’s waiting in the Tavern!”
“The King is here?! Take me to him,” Flamberge commands, and the two ponies, head for the tavern.
Once there, they find six guards outside and everypony else making a wide berth. Two powerful looking griffons with halberds in hand circle over the tavern, constantly keeping an eye on the entrance. Four ponies stand at the door itself. To the left a dark colored pegasus stallion with a crossbow and a strongly built earth pony mare with an axe, both wearing heavy black armor emblazoned with the rising sun behind a pick on their flanks. To the right are two large unicorn stallions in ornate steel armor brandishing the royal seal, the one on the left has a similarly gilded and ornate sword and shield floating at their sides. The other, a brown unicorn with a long beard, has an unmarked ornate shield of leather and wood, a symbol of a tree emblazoned on it and a large heavily used, battleaxe. As they draw close, the bearded unicorn closest to the door steps forward and crosses his axe in front of the door. “Halt, unless you have business with the king, you are to leave.”
Flamberge locks eyes with the unicorn, “I am Colonel Flamberge, Commander of Duskfields, and Regent of this Barony, I have need to speak with his majesty.”
The two royal guards size him up for a moment, then the weapon retracts. “Yes, he spoke of you. I am to bring you to him, follow me.” His horn glows a faint white for an instant and the door creaks open.
The unicorn leads the way inside, and inside Flamberge finds a small mass of ponies standing around one of the tables that has been pulled away from the wall. One particularly old stallion is fussing with another unicorn in royal armor, saying, “It is
quite safe in here, I don’t think I need to wear this armor any longer.” He sets his chanfron on a table, letting his long snowy mane spill onto his withers.
Behind him, a slate gray earth pony mare with a taupe mane and hints of steel armor atop a blue dress sits sullenly at a table. To her side, a jet black male griffon in steel armor with black and purple sashes adorned with medals stands silently, watching the king argue with his aide. On the other side of the king, an elderly brown unicorn, with a greying, braided beard, looking similar to the guard leading Flamberge, wearing a style of military armor from some three of four decades ago, with a massive axe across his back, and numerous medals on his peytral. He, the griffon, and the mare look up at Flamberge and the guard as they enter.
The bearded unicorn guard speaks up, “Your majesty, Colonel Flamberge has awoken. He is here to speak with you.”
The king turns about, surprisingly fluidly for a pony his age. “Thank you, Glaive, you are dismissed.”
Glaive bows and takes his leave.
A wide grin forms in the middle of the King’s short and neatly trimmed beard, and he steps forward. “Ah, Colonel Flamberge, it’s good to see you up and so well. After what I heard from the after action report, I was afraid you’d be down for a while.”
Flamberge grins, "Well, your majesty, if Captain Crosshair had her way, I would still be, but I'm not one to stay in bed while there is work to be done."
“So I’m learning,” the king replies in a light tone. “I regret we couldn’t reach you in time to assist in the defense itself. The spells developed to penetrate the clouds worked, but not as well as we’d hoped. You performed admirably nonetheless.” His eyes widen slightly as something dawns on him. “Oh, but I am getting senile in my old age.” He turns away to give the mare and griffon a better view of Flamberge, and gestures toward them. “I don’t think everypony here is acquainted. Flamberge, this is Major Alexie Rykov from Canyontalon, and Duchess Virtue Cookales from Dawnpick. They both provided troops to help with the rounding up of the discordant ponies.”
Flamberge lowers his head to them each in turn, “A pleasure to meet you both.”
The griffon strides forward, letting the tiniest of smiles show on his beak. He extends a claw to shake and says, “Indeed it is a pleasure to finally meet you, colonel. When I learned that we could not reach you in time to help fell the beast, I thought all would be lost. I am thoroughly impressed by the skill you and your soldiers showed in the defense of this town.”
Flamberge shakes the griffon's claw with his hoof, while trying not to look off balance despite his injuries, and says, “Thank you Major, I owe it all to my stallions and the militia.”
“Absolutely,” the griffon replies without a pause. “If there is anything to be learned from combat in the position of a leader, it is that the soldiers under you are your most valuable resource, in every sense.” His smile turns to a smirk. “And I can appreciate a commander who fights
beside his soldiers.”
The griffon sees Virtue step up, and makes space for her. She looks Flamberge in the eyes for a moment, where it becomes obvious to him that she had been crying recently. “Hello, colonel. It... it’s good to meet you. I’ve heard of you, and... your reputation precedes you.”
"It is good to meet you Lady Virtue, you were sister to Lord Temperance were you not? I regret that I was unable to protect him, I am deeply sorry for your loss," Flamberge explains.
The elder brown unicorn, with the braided beard, raises an eyebrow as Flamberge says that, and moves closer to his king.
Virtue nods slowly and wipes an eye with a forehoof. “Yes... yes, that’s right.” She takes a deep breath and does a bad job of recomposing herself. “Sorry. I... I didn’t get the news until very recently.” She closes her eyes and says in a weak voice, “I understand.”
The king casts a curious glance to Fauchard, but stays silent.
“My king,” says Flamberge turning back to face him, “I must admit some ignorance, what exactly happened after Entropy was destroyed? I saw some Discordians committing suicide, but... then I blacked out, Captain Crosshair told me that we captured some of the survivors?”
The king clears his throat and nods. “Ah, yes, perhaps we should get on with the business at hoof. That’s correct, but things are a bit complicated overall. I’ll allow the major to fill you in on the details I didn’t see, but after you killed the draconequus the entire discordant army just... well, they just
quit.
“We were circling around the discordants within the woods, slowly tightening our noose so they couldn’t escape. The griffons had their griffons and pegasi pinned down, and victory was really a question of when, not if. The antimagic spells were allowing us to fight them safely, and they were beginning to panic already. There was an unbelievable explosion of magic from within the town, which I was later to learn was you destroying the abomination, and every last discordant just... broke. They cried out and turned to run toward the town.”
When he points toward Major Rykov, the griffon nods. “Yes, at that point the warping clouds of magic began to disperse, so we were able to move in to attack directly and get a better look. The discordants swarmed toward the town, falling to our weapons effortlessly. They cared for nothing but to see for themselves that you had destroyed their vile leader. Of those that did, many slew themselves. I am told it was out of outright sorrow and grief rather than fear of what we would do to them.”
He rustles his wings and continues. “Confusing as that is, we were able to apprehend those that simply succumbed to their despair. Increasingly we were rounding up survivors outside who were unable to get within the walls, but only after we hefted the thing’s corpse outside to set it alight and burn it before them did they finally stop trying to claw their way inside. All told, we have over a thousand captive.”
“I... see,” replies Flamberge, “And so what happens now?”
The king cocks a frown. “A good question. I don’t think I need to express how much of a logistical problem it would be to march a thousand potentially insane ponies to Coupledye to be processed as prisoners, much less the... side issues... it would involve.”
“We have offered to accept the griffon prisoners,” Major Rykov adds.
The king nods. “Yes, that helps, but still leaves over nine hundred, including the zebras. I’m a bit reluctant to put them all to the sword, but at this point I’m short on options.” He shakes his head slowly. “Some of the citizens here have been attempting to communicate with them, despite our attempts to keep them separate. Most of the discordants are so lost and confused now it is fruitless, but a few are responsive. In fact, I am told a filly named Saffron was bizarrely found among their number, and has been returned to her family here.” He looks around to everyone present, then back to the floor. “Puts me in a very difficult situation.”
Flamberge smiles faintly at the news of Saffron’s safe return, “Well, whatever you decide will be for the best I am sure. I would be willing to accept a few of the earthponies among them as workers, as we will need the extra hooves to rebuild Duskfields, but that would only be a drop in the bucket from so many.”
“We’ll take some,” Virtue mutters. “As many as we can.”
The king blows out his breath and looks between them all again. “Thank you. Yes... yes, we’ll sort that out, one way or another. There is an equally pressing issue at hoof however.” His expression turns hard. “With the tragic and untimely passing of Lord Temperance, Duskfields itself is in a precarious position. The next heir, his daughter Mountain Dew, is far too young to administrate the town and take his position as baroness. Thus, the duty fell to you as regent, Flamberge. That needs to be corrected.”
Flamberge looks nervous for a moment, and swallows, “Uh, corrected?”
He nods, keeping a deadly serious face. “This is a complicated matter. I would be sorely tempted to relieve you of the burden of administering day-to-day affairs by delegating it to Morning Dew, since she is Temperance’s wife. However, I am led to believe she has no experience or talent for such things, and it would serve nopony.
“In her place, I could also ask Duchess Virtue to possibly have one of her children fill the vacancy.” A look of mild terror washes over her, and the king continues with, “But that introduces a lot of additional complications. It could cause issues with potential claims to the lands, and I would not want to introduce that into a delicate situation.
“So, that leaves me with a third option, which I believe may be the best in the long run.” He pauses for effect. “Duchess Virtue has spoken with Morning Dew and her foals, and it seems that she has no interest in maintaining any hold or claim to the lands. Her daughter Mountain Dew seems to agree with her, and the other foals are young enough that their mother has the say. So... there is a possibility that they will be leaving Duskfields to return either with us to Coupledye, or with Virtue to Dawnpick. That, however, leaves me with a vacancy that absolutely
must be filled.” He looks at Flamberge, visually appraising him.
The nervousness Flamberge had originally shown at this direction of conversation passes and he attempts to make himself look as capable as possible, through the bandages.
“Colonel Flamberge, I am prepared to grant you the title of baron over the barony of Duskfields. You have proven yourself in my eyes on many occasions, the last and most impressive of which is the destruction of a powerful creature that was poised to cause untold damage to not only our lands but potentially vast areas of griffon and zebra lands as well. Though you’ve only been in position to administrate the town directly for a brief time, you have shown yourself capable enough and I am sure you will in time learn all of the intricacies.” The stoic expression he wore fades a bit as he notes the hurt look on Virtue, but he locks eyes with Flamberge. “Are you willing to accept this charge? If you wish to remain in a purely military position as the commander of Duskfields’ armed forces, I will hold nothing against you.”
"Your majesty, I would be honored take up the title and responsibilities of Baron. It is all I could have ever hoped for," states Flamberge happily.
Fauchard's eyes go wide when Flamberge is offered the title, he leans to the King and whispers something into his ear.
The king snorts and cuts his eyes to Fauchard briefly before looking back to Flamberge. “Excellent, I’m glad you’re willing to step up to the challenge. I hereby grant you the title of baron over Duskfields, including all of the benefits and responsibilities that it entails. I regret that we are not equipped to provide the customary paperwork, but my word is binding.”
“Thank you your majesty,” replies Flamberge beaming with pride.
“Then it is done,” he says simply. “You are dismissed, Lord Flamberge. I know you are still recovering, and you should rest now.” He looks to the griffon and says, “We still have a bit of business to discuss, if you would remain.” Finally, he turns to Virtue and says in a low voice, “And Virtue... if you would go speak with Morning Dew again, I would appreciate it.”
Flamberge makes his way back outside to Crosshair, who was still waiting for him. “How was it? What did the King want?” Crosshair asked excitedly.
Flamberge had a wide smiles across his face, like a foal on their birthday. “Captain Crosshair,” he says as he comes up to her, “is that how you address your new Baron?”
Crosshair went wide-eyed as she gasps and glomps onto her stallion, squeezing happily “You’re a Baron now!” She squeaked, overjoyed.
He hugs her in return, “I am, Morning and Mountain Dew are leaving with Duchess Virtue and giving up the claim, the King offered the title to me, and of course I accepted it.”
“Finally a Nobility! And you wouldn’t need to marry any other mares to do so too, right?” Crosshair asked again hopefully.
Flamberge sighs, “Marrying some noble’s filly, would still help us climb the ranks, but...” Flamberge looks around the damaged town, his town, “I don’t care about that anymore... . Crosshair, will you marry me?”
That have caught the small mare completely off guard, she blinked, gasped and stared at him dumbly for a moment, tearing up a little before nodding eagerly “Yes!”
“I’m sorry I made you wait so long Crosshair,” Flamberge begins apologetically, “but you are all that is important to me. You, and our foals. Go, now. Go find your best dress, and I’ll go get the foals, and our friends, the King is here, and we’ll ask him to perform the ceremony right away.”
Still being so happy that she’s in tears, Crosshair nods and trots away happily to their home. She went through hell and now she thinks she’s going to heaven.
Author
Topic: Duskfields (My Little Fortress) (Read 47736 times)