Mourne had to admire the near-military level of precision that was displayed in the next few moments.

With the press corps bearing down on the farm like a wild storm, all other considerations were pushed aside. They had to get Mac out of the farm before they were cornered. In a matter of minutes the big red stallion was hitched to the delivery wagon, Mourne was laden with saddlebags containing provisions and tools for the journey and the two of them were ushered hastily out along the back road away from the farm and up into the hills.

Applebloom had already left, galloping off into the orchards to loop back around to Ponyville to alert the Mayor, Princess Twilight and the rest of their friends to come to the farm. Mourne briefly wondered if any of them were truly ready to deal with a situation like this, but they had little choice. He wasn’t surprised the press had got to the farm so swiftly, if he was honest. A story like this? A royal romance? They would move the skies, the mountains and anything in between to be the first to get an exclusive interview or picture.

For now, though, he focused on the present and the road that stretched out before front of them. All the rest could wait till they returned to town. The sun was rising further overhead and painful shards of golden light began lancing down through the thick canopy of leaves overhead. Ignoring it at first, he was finally forced to stop so he could dig out the darkened lenses from his saddlebags.

Mac walked on a step or two, then paused to look over his shoulder as he realised Mourne had fallen back. “Problem?”

“The sunlight is getting...uncomfortable,” Mourne grudgingly admitted. “I need to put my lenses in.”

Mac grunted and turned back to study the road ahead of them. “Ya don’t have tah walk with me, ya know. Can fly if it’s easier for ya.”

“I can’t very well bodyguard you from the air now, can I?” Mourne sighed in relief as he snapped the lenses into place in his helm, blinking quickly till his eyes adjusted. “Thick foliage like this offers too much cover, blocks my ability to properly protect you. The time it would take me to spot and react to a threat is multiplied when there’s thick tree cover like this. It leaves too big a window for any assassin to get close and slip a knife into you. I’ll walk.”

“You’re just a ray o’sunshine, ain’t ya?” Mac deadpanned as he waited for Mourne to close up his saddlebags and catch up. The pair started walking again, the cart rumbling and creaking along behind them.

“That’s what it means to be a guard. We have to look at every situation and assess the tactical strengths and weakness of it. Guards aren’t meant to be smiley and happy,” Mourne said defensively. “We’re meant to be feared and respected.”

“Mm. Ever think regular folks might not be so scared if ya smiled now and again?”

Mac looked askance at Mourne, to find the batpony’s face twisted in a rictus grin that exposed a mouthful of sharp, predatory teeth. He raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “On second thought, mebbe not.”

Mourne snorted as he relaxed his features. “Go and be a foal’s entertainer if you want to smile and joke,” he growled. “A guard’s life was never supposed to be a happy or easy one.”

Mac didn’t say anything, but Mourne could see his brow furrowed in thought. The pair walked together in silence for a few minutes more before Mac opened his mouth, then closed it again without saying a word. Mourne scowled, but wasn’t about to try and coax the stallion into talking.

Instead he turned his attention to the surrounding countryside. Rolling hills, lush green grass and thickly spreading trees, their boughs creaking and rustling gently in the fresh breeze that blew down from the mountains to the North. It was so unlike Canterlot, or even the caverns for that matter. No bustle of traffic, no hum of voices, it was so quiet he could hear the subtle straining of the leather straps in his armour, the quiet clinking of the canteens in the saddlebags and the soft thump of their hooves on the smooth dirt path.

“Seems a harsh way t’spend a life,” Mac said at last, the words slow and thoughtful. “Luna don’t strike me as the kind who’d want her guards tah be miserable all their days.”

“You can’t understand, farmer,” Mourne grunted. “You’ve never served.”

“Eeenope. Never have,” he fell quiet again. “Helped the local Guard out a time or two, that’s all.”

Mourne couldn’t quite stifle a snort of disbelief. “You? What did they need your help for? Ploughing a--” He bit back the comment as Mac turned his head to give him an bland stare. “My apologies. That was uncalled for.”

“Ya don’t like me much, do ya?”

“It’s nothing personal. It’s not who you are, it’s what you are.”

Mac stopped abruptly, digging his hooves into the dirt road as he glared at Mourne. “An’what’s so bad with what ah am? What’s wrong with being the kinda pony that provides for your kin and town? Kinda pony makes sure folks make it through the winter with enough t’eat, drivin’ off animals from the Everfree that might try an’snatch a foal. What exactly is wrong with what ah am?” He shrugged off the yoke connecting him to the cart so he could face the batpony properly. “Y’all are here to protect me but ya ain’t gonna be doin’ that if ya don’t respect me, so let’s have this out right now, right here. What the BUCK is the problem ya got with earth ponies?” He jabbed his hoof against Mourne’s chest hard enough to force the smaller stallion back a pace or two.

"I have no issue with earth ponies,” Mourne snapped back, swatting that prodding hoof aside. “I am not some brain damaged tribalist. WHAT you are is a commoner, McIntosh Apple. Princess Luna...the Mistress...she deserves better than you! What she sees in you I simply cannot comprehend.”

Mac blinked, then snorted loudly. “That’s it? That’s the beef ya got with me?” He laughed as he trotted back to the cart and slipped easily back into the harness again. “You and me finally agree on somethin’, it seems.” Mac shook his head, chuckling to himself as he started walking again, leaving the stunned batpony staring after him for a moment or two.

“What? You AGREE? Yet you stay with her?” Mourne recovered and hurried after him, his eyes wide.

“Damn straight,” Mac replied. “Damned if ah know what she sees in me, or what it is ah did t’catch her eye but ah ain’t complainin’. Still, maybe ya think she should be with some famous hero, right? Some landed noble or knight o’the realm. That’s the kinda pony a Princess should be with, dontcha think?”

Mourne nodded dumbly, struggling to find his voice. Of all the ways he’d played this conversation out in his head, he’d never once contemplated that Mac might just agree with him like this.

“But what about a mare? What kinda lover does a mare deserve? Not a Princess or a commoner or a noble, don’t matter about none of that. Tell me what a mare would deserve in a partner.”

Mourne blinked. “I...what? I don’t follow. We’re not talking about a mare, we’re talking about the Princess.”

“An’that right there is the problem.” Mac shook his head. “Y’all are so busy seein’ her as the Princess that ya never once stop t’think about what Luna the MARE might want in a partner. Do ya really think she’d want somepony kowtowin’ to her all the time, grovelling at her hooves for fear of upsettin’ her. That sound like fun to you? Some stuffed collar afraid t’have a little fun, some flank candy with a rock for a brain that’ll impress all the right ponies? Do ya think that’s what a mare would want?”

"Well, no…” Mourne finally conceded. “But we’re not talking about a normal mare, we’re talking about one of the rulers of Equestria.”

“So? Ya think she’s the Princess all the time? She rules, and that’s all? That she don’t have any wants or needs of her own? The truth is, I’ve been drinking with Princess Luna. I’ve danced with her and made a total fool of mahself in the process. Ah’ve lain in a bed with her, ah’ve kissed her and ah fully intend t’do a lot more than that before ah’m through.” He steadfastly ignored Mourne’s indignant splutter. “If y’all can’t deal with that, then that’s just your problem, not mine.”

Mac fell silent for a few moments, just staring off down the road as he walked, his tone growing more thoughtful. “Do ah deserve a mare as beautiful and as intelligent as Luna? No. Can’t say ah feel like ah do. Can’t say ah understand what it is she sees in me, but what ah CAN say is that ah’m gonna do mah damndest t’make sure she doesn’t regret courtin’ me. At the end of the day, that’s what she deserves. What any mare deserves. She deserves somepony that’s gonna make her happy. Celestia knows she’s had enough misery for one lifetime, dontcha think?”

Mourne didn’t reply at first, the batpony lost in thought, staring down at his hooves. “It feels somehow wrong to think of her like that.”

“Hmm? Why’s that? Just cuz she’s an alicorn don’t mean she stopped bein’ a mare as well.”

“I know but…” he trailed off. “It’s like thinking about your parents having sex.”

Mac blinked, then just grinned. “That’s right sweet of ya, Mourne. Didn’t know ya’d taken to seein’ me as a father figure. Ah’ll do mah best to prove t’be a fine role model for ya.”

“That’s not what I--” Mourne protested, but Mac was having none of it.

“Course that means there’ll need t’be some changes around here. Gotta buck up yer ideas. Think fast and fly straight an’all that.”

“Farmer…”

“Mebbe we’ll see about signin’ ya up for a hoofball team. Little league, mebbe?” Mac positively beamed, a little spring in his step now.

Mourne groaned, tugging his helm down a little more firmly atop his head. “This is going to be a long, long day.”

Celestia’s sun was low in the sky by the time their errand was completed and the two weary stallions began their trek back to Ponyville. The actual delivery had gone without any trouble and the cart now contained some new tools for the farm and a bag of bits to pay the balance. It had been a while since he’d seen two ponies genuinely haggling over items like that. In Canterlot the price you saw was the price you paid and attempting any sort of haggling for discount was considered gauche to say the least.

Mac had seemed pleased with the trade, Mourne mused while he walked, trying to ignore how much his hooves were starting to ache. He hadn’t done this much walking since...ever. He looked around and hmmed under his breath. The land was more open and flat here, no trees to get in the way or impede his line of sight. There was plenty of time for him to spot potential threats and respond

Mourne pulled the lenses from his helm and tucked them into a pocket on his saddlebags. No more need for those now that the sun was setting. “I’m going to get a better look around,” he said as he spread his wings and gave them an experimental flap, checking for any signs of tension or pain in the flight muscles. “No trees or anything to stop me getting to you in a hurry if needed.”

Mac simply nodded. “Eeyup.”

Mourne trotted a few steps ahead, crouched, and leapt nimbly up and into the air, leathery wings spreading and sweeping down to propel him into the red and orange hued sky. He sighed in pleasure as the cool wind rushed through his coat, spiralling slowly higher, letting the last fading thermals lift him up.

Banking lazily around, he turned his attention to the surrounding countryside, searching the growing shadows for anything that might be lurking along their route. A few miles to the south he could see the lights of Ponyville twinkling, and beyond them the faint glow of Canterlot. He felt a little pang of loss as he stared at those distant lights, then shook his head as he turned his gaze downward to watch the earth pony stallion trotting along, seemingly indefatigable.

Their conversation had been, it was fair to say, on the awkward side of stilted. It was unlikely they were ever going to be the best of friends regardless of how things might develop in the weeks and months that were still to follow, but already Mourne could see there were things to admire, things that might well have attracted the attention of the Mistress.

There was no artifice to McIntosh Apple. In common parlance, what you saw was what you got, and that was something Luna prized when she spent so much of her time surrounded by intrigue and political posturing. She had little time for the sort of dissembling and posing that was the stock in trade in Canterlot but there was more to McIntosh than just that. There was something about the way he carried himself, a sense of unshakeable confidence, a surety of motion and word that reminded Mourne of one of his first trainers in the Night Guard.

Lost in reminiscing, it took him a moment to spot the furtive movement further down the road. Stepping out from behind the bushes to block the path were three figures, one unicorn and two earth ponies judging by their silhouettes. They were rough and ragged, their manes scruffy, their coats matted with dirt. He couldn’t make out their cutie marks from this far up but what he could see were the scowls that each of them wore as they watched Mac approach.

He began his descent as Mac slowed up on the path, dropping to a walk as he approached the trio. Mourne held back from just diving in, appearances could be deceptive after all and he was genuinely trying not to simply rush in without a proper understanding of what was going on. The last thing he needed was to make more enemies.

“Regal, Dusty and is that Brawny there? Well gentlecolts,” Mac said simply as he stopped in the middle of the road. “There a problem?”

“Thought we’d made it pretty clear last time ya came this way, Apple,” the brown-coated unicorn stepped forward. “This is our turf. You and yours ain’t welcome here.”

Mac snorted and tossed his head back. “Ain’t your place tah tell me what ah can and can’t do, Regal. Folks want apples, who are you tah tell them they can’t have’em?”

“We’re the stallions who told you that if you came by here again, we’d smash your cart and break your legs,” the left-hand earth pony snapped. Mourne guessed that one had to be Brawny, the white-haired stallion near as big as Mac. “Guess ya don’t hear too good. Might be we’ll need t’send a more direct message.”

“Ah-yup,” echoed the other, brown furred, earth pony. He even went so far as to bang his forehooves together as he struck what he obviously hoped was an intimidating pose.

“And ah told ya that if the time came, ya were all more than welcome t’try and do all that horseshit ya just said,” was Mac’s calm reply as he shrugged the harness off and nudged the cart back with a hoof. “Mourne, y’all stay outta this now. This ah don’t need help with.”

The three ponies exchanged glances. “Who the hells is Mourne?” Regal snapped, looking around. “You brought help with ya this time, Apple?”

“I believe you need to be looking a little higher, gentlecolts,” Mourne called down as he circled above them, grinning toothily at their looks of shock as they realised they had a bat pony in attendance.

“Holy buck! What’s one of them doing here?” Dusty blurted out, yelping as the unicorn roughly prodded him with a hoof.

“Doesn’t matter. He gets involved, he’ll get his wings broke if he’s lucky,” Regal raised his voice, glancing one last time at Mourne before turning his attention to Mac.

Mac just rolled his head slowly, shrugged his shoulders and settled into a wide-legged stance, his muzzle low. He snorted, blowing a few strands of his mane up and out of his eyes. “Well boys, let’s get to it. Who’s feelin’ brave?”

Regal growled as he channelled his magic, a shimmering purple glow surrounding his horn as he lowered his head to cast his spell.

“Ah-ah,” Mac chided. “None a’that now.” Quick as a flash, Mac’s hoof snapped forward and a pebble hurtled straight at the startled unicorn before he could muster even the beginnings of a shielding spell. The pebble smacked into Regal’s horn and the unicorn reeled back, crying out in pain while his magic dissipated with a ~POP!~.

“Horseapples, that hurts!” Regal hissed, rubbing at his now fitfully sparking horn. “Well don’t just stand there, you morons! GET him!”

If Mourne hadn’t just seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have thought it possible. While it was relatively common knowledge that the easiest way to attack a unicorn was to disrupt their magic, the farmer had moved so quickly and so accurately that it left him speechless. What followed next simply reinforced that initial astonishment.

Dusty and Brawny rushed blindly at Mac, bellowing as they reared to bring their hooves down on him, but he was already moving before they got anywhere near him. The huge red stallion moved like a shadow between the two, effortlessly helping them on their way as he dropped his forelegs and bucked back good and hard, his huge hooves slamming into his two erstwhile attackers and sending them sprawling facefirst in the dirt.

Regal’s eyes went wide, the unicorn frantically backpedaling. He was still trying to summon his magic, his horn sparking fitfully as Mac advanced on him..

“Three of ya for just me? Ah don’t know if ah should be insulted or impressed.” Mac’s hoof shot out once more and a heartbeat later the unicorn was in a quivering ball on the ground, clutching frantically at his abused horn. Before he could open his mouth to say anything more Mac’s hoof was pressing down on his horn, crushing it down into the dirt. The unicorn’s eyes were wide and terrified as he stared up at the implacable face of the farmer. “Ah could snap this clean off, ya know. Lil more pressure is all it would take. What good would ya be then, mmm? Unicorn without a horn, pretty dang worthless, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Please…” Regal whispered. “Please, please don’t.”

“Ah-Ah!” Mac snarled, looking back at the recovering Dusty and Brawny who’d struggled back to their hooves and were staring at him with murder in their eyes. “You two just keep kissin’ the road. Ya take one step towards me, your buddy here is gonna need tah find a new line o’work.”

“Do what he says!” Regal squealed as Mac shifted his weight, tears streaming down the unicorn’s face, the pain excruciating.

Mac waited, staring at the two earth ponies, his expression dark. “Ah don’t see ya kissin’ the road,” he pointed out as he shifted his weight, grinding his hoof down onto Regal’s horn.

“KISS IT! KISS IT!” Regal squealed, hooves flailing desperately at the ground. “Do it! Do what he says!”

Brawny and Dusty exchanged looks, lips curled in angry snarls, but as Regal’s cries grew louder once more they finally sighed in unison and knelt back down, pressing their muzzles to the ground.

“That’s better. Now, ah’m only gonna say this one more time, Regal.” Mac sighed as he leaned in a little closer, his voice soft and conversational once more. “Ah don’t take kindly tah threats. Ya even think about messin’ with me or mah family again, y’all will be nursin’ far worse than grazes and bruised egos. This here is a free tradin’ post, not your personal fiefdom. Folks here’re welcome t’do business with whoever they choose, and as long as they keep choosin’ Sweet Apple Acres, we’ll keep deliverin’ apples. Nopony, not you, not your buddies, are gonna change that. Y’wanna put us out of business? Ya do it properly by offerin’ a better product than we got, not by tryin’ to waylay me on a dark road with your hired muscle.” Mac pressed down, just a little harder. “We got an understandin’ now, Regal?”

“Yes! YES! Dear Celestia, yes! Anything you say! Please, please don’t break my horn!” The air was suddenly filled with the acrid scent of urine as Regal pissed himself in sheer terror. Mac’s nostrils flared and he made a face before lifting his hoof up and away, turning his attention to the other two as Regal curled up in a softly sobbing ball in the road.

“As for you two. Ah see y’again, ah’m gonna have more than just harsh words for ya. Get your boss and get outta here. You’re makin’ me late and mah travellin’ companion looks like he’s about ready t’fly down here and chow down on the pair of ya. S’true what they say about bat ponies, ya know. Make’em mad, they’ll tear your throats out. Ya don’t believe me, just stick around a while longer.”

The two stallions looked up at him and Mourne smiled broadly, the fading sun glinting off his sharp white teeth. It was nonsense, of course. Batponies were no more blood suckers than any other kind of pony, even if their diets were, perhaps, somewhat more varied than most of the other tribes. They weren’t cannibals. Still, having a certain reputation did sometimes have its uses.

The two stallions didn’t need telling twice. Dusty quickly helped scoop the whimpering Regal up and onto Brawny's back before the trio bolted back towards the trading post as quickly as they could, no doubt to have Regal’s horn checked out...assuming they had any actual loyalty to him. For all Mourne knew, they might just dump him in a ditch the moment they were out of sight.

Alighting next to Mac as he slipped back into the harness, Mourne shook his head. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to happen but this certainly wasn’t it. For a simple farmer to take on three opponents, and one a spellcaster, and defeat them so easily? That just didn’t quite tally up with the public image of the simple farmer that Mac seemed to go out of his way to cultivate. “Where did you learn that?”

“Told ya,” was the lazy reply as Mac tugged the last strap into place. “Ah help the guard out around town from time t’time. Picked up a few tricks from them along the way, like the thing with the horn. Easiest way t’beat a unicorn in a magical fight is t'make it a non-magical fight as quick as you can.”

“Not just that, though that was impressive enough all by itself. I can’t remember the last time I saw anypony move as quickly as you did. What was that? Rolling Earth style? Krav Pega?”

“Bit ah this, bit ah that,” was the evasive reply as Mac started walking again, then picked up the pace as he glanced warily back over his shoulder. “Less talkin’, more trottin’. Let’s not stick around in case Regal finds a backbone once his head stops splittin’.”

“You’ve dealt with them before, I assume?” Mourne took to the air once again, gliding beside the cart. “Who are they exactly?”

“Regal’s one of the local merchants, believe it or not. He used t’import a load o’fruit and veg t'the trading post. He'd cart it in and charge stupid prices for it. Folks didn’t have any alternative till we showed up a few months ago and he don’t take kindly to it. We charge less than him and our stuff’s higher quality so he can’t compete. His own damn fault if y’ask me. If he didn’t have his head shoved up his plot he might have local farms willing t’work with him, but, well… Ya saw his idea of negotiation back there. He’s too used t’bein’ the big fish in a small pond. He likes t’think he calls the shots but he ain’t nowhere near as important as he thinks he is.”

Mourne grunted. “His kind are a bit a dozen in Canterlot. Jumped up noponies with delusions of adequacy.”

“Hah. Sounds about right. Well, hopefully this will learn him but ah won’t hold mah breath on it. Let’s just concentrate on gettin’ back to town before it gets too late and we need t’stop for the night,” Mac glanced up with a frown. The sun would be down sooner than he was comfortable with. “Ah’d rather not have tah bed down in the woods. Bit far out for timberwolves but ya never know.”

“And why would we need to stop?”

"Can’t travel by night. Too easy t’take a wrong turn or miss-step and fall down a ravine or somethin’.”

“Why, it sounds to me like what you’d need would be something that could see at night as easily as in the day.” Mourne drawled.

Mac shot him a glare, then chuckled wryly. “Fair point, ah guess. Fair point. Lead on then, Night Guard. Take us home.”

Mourne nodded as he backwinged to land lightly on the path. Favouring his aching hooves a little, he began to walk. “I didn’t think you had that in you.”

“That?”

“Regal, what you threatened to do to him. I didn’t know you were capable of that.”

“Neither did they,” he replied laconically. “Like my Pa always taught me. Ya never start a fight, but ya make damn sure ya finish it. This way, hopefully, it’ll be the one and only time they try this nonsense.”

Mourne grunted in agreement. “Still, it was…surprisingly brutal. Would you really have done it? Broken his horn?”

Mac hesitated, glancing back along the road to make sure they were alone before slowly shaking his head. “No. Ah wouldn’t wish that on anypony, not even one like Regal. But they had t’THINK ah was serious. If they’d caught even a hint that ah was bluffin, ya might well have had t’come save mah plot. This way...hopefully they won’t call mah bluff.”

“You do make it very hard to be your bodyguard when you tell me not to get involved,” Mourne pointed out.

“Had t’be that way,” Mac said firmly. “They had t’see that ah was capable of takin’em on by mahself. If you’d done it for me, they’d just wait till they could get me on mah own and jump me instead.” He paused a moment. “But ya make a fair point. I’ll try not t’make a habit of this. Deal?” He stopped walking long enough to lift a hoof and hold it out.

Mourne snorted as he trotted back to bump his hoof in return. “Deal. Now come on, farmer. Let’s see if we can sneak past the press who will be, no doubt, camped out waiting for us. First one to have his picture taken loses.”

Mac grinned broadly. “You’re on.”