Party Favor peaked the crest of the next hill with Starlight beside him. His legs trembled underneath him now more than ever. The memories of what happened mere days ago weighed more heavily on him than the load on his back ever could. Yet, he did not falter, for to show weakness or ask for respite would be to invoke the Wanderer's cold wrath. And with increasing regularity, Starlight's fiery wrath. Party Favor looked to his side, at some of the bruises and scars he'd received for this sort of behavior. One of them, a scar, had an ugly purple hue. It was his newest one which, unlike most of them, was inflicted by Starlight. He got it for protesting her taking his canteen without his consent. It was the one that cut the deepest.

They stopped at the crest. Starlight got giddy with laughter. “This… this is a road. And a town.” She laughed some more. “We did it! We made it to the road!” She sighed. “I'm so happy to see civilization again.”

Party Favor looked in front of him. In the distance, he saw a town, perhaps only two or three times the size of Our Town, built of mud brick along a dirt paved road that ran left and right as far as he could see. It was bordered by a brick palisade.

“So it is,” the Wanderer said. “The road is dotted with settlements like these. Mostly for the caravans' sakes.”

Starlight's face beamed with joy. “Really? So I can cool off under an electric fan now?”

“To tell you the truth, I have never even heard of an electric fan. Or an electric anything for that matter.” Starlight's smile went flat. “I apologize, Miss Glimmer. I do not mean to disappoint. But I must ask. What is 'electric' anyway?”

Starlight sighed. “Electricity. It's a power source. It makes things do stuff. Your world doesn't have electricity?”

“I do not think so.”

“Oh. Okay. Fine.” She continued on her way to the down. “As if I didn't have enough things to complain about,” she muttered.

Once inside the town, Party Favor and Starlight looked around to notice their surroundings. A few of the buildings had fallen to collapse from neglect, and the rest of them had various kinds of bodily filth festering just under their windows, many of which had their glass panes broken or missing, and all of which were stained with dirt. Single-file lines of hardy unicorn soldiers, built with the same size and stature as the Wanderer, patrolled the streets; they were donned in steel chainmail suits and stahlhelms with nasal and eye pieces covering their faces. The patrols were few, however, and those that were there tended to casually ignore the screams of terror that sometimes echoed from dark alleyways and abandoned ruins.

A grumbling sound came from Starlight's belly. “Wanderer, I'm hungry. Do they have food here?”

The Wanderer blinked. “I would be surprised if they did not. Why don't you ask one of the locals?”

Starlight nodded.  “Alright. I'll ask one of the town guards.”

“I would not approach them if I were you. They are Imperial soldiers. They do not take kindly to foreigners.”

Starlight scoffed, then started her way up to a guard who stood stationary beside the palisade exit. “Oh, come on. How bad can it be? Equestrian guards don't like foreigners either, but they're still helpful sometimes.”

The Wanderer drew his gaze to Party Favor, who slunk down demurely and looked away from him. One of the Wanderer's eyes twitched once. He followed Starlight to the guard. Party Favor followed him.

Once up close to the guard, Starlight looked up at him with a polite smile. “Excuse me, sir. Can you point me to the nearest food joint? I'm not from around here.”

The guard ignored her. His countenance was unmoving.

Starlight tried again. “Excuse me? Sir? Can you tell me where I can find some food?”

The guard was still silent.

Starlight's smile went flat. “Excuse me?” She rose a hoof up and tapped him on the chest.

With a sneer on his face, the guard swiped her hoof away from him with his own and shoved Starlight away with it; she fell to the ground, on her side.

The guard snorted. “Begone, little bitch,” he barked in a guttural bass similar to the Wanderer's. “Piss off before I rend your stupid head from your neck.”

Starlight growled in anger. She bolted back up on her hooves and charged her horn to attack. “You'll pay for that!”

The Wanderer walked calmly between the guard and Starlight, who ceased her horn's glow. “Please excuse her,” he said to the guard. “She really is not from around these parts. Not even from one of our client states.”

The guard looked to the Wanderer. “She acts like a Byzuntonian aristocrat.”

“But she is not. She is an Equestrian aristocrat. Can you not tell by her accent, son?”

“Hm. I have never met an Equestrian before. I would not know an Equestrian accent.” He snorted. “What are you doing with this barbarian scum?” He glanced at Party Favor. “Bodyguard?”

The Wanderer nodded. “Yes. Bodyguard.”

The guard chuckled. “I bet these cretins paid you a fortune. You being First Cohort and all. Her house's coffers must be empty from buying your services. I also bet she has the birch waiting for her back home once she'd done with her little Wasteland escapade. Not like that's your problem, huh?” He laughed and gave the Wanderer a playful poke at the chest.

The Wanderer blinked. “In any case. My client here gets deathly cranky when she is hungry. Perhaps you know of a place where an Equestrian noble will not gag at the stench of the produce?”

The guard nodded. “Sure. I know a place like that. Cheaper, too.” He chuckled. “Foreigners go to places near the road where they serve utter trash for the price of prime veal. It is too funny. Anyway…” He pointed to a street to the side of the main road. “You want to go down that way. Take the second right, then go up until you get to the intersection with the auction booth to the upper left. Once there, make a right. It will be the second building to the left. Did you get all that?”

“I did. And you are sure this is not an Imperial-exclusive place?”

“I am sure.”

The Wanderer nodded. “Very good. Thank you, young legionary.”

“Of course. Anything for a retired First Cohort.” The guard put his right hoof across his chest, then flew it outward, in the Imperial salute. Once the Wanderer saluted him back, they both let their hooves down.

The Wanderer turned away from the guard, then walked up to Starlight. “Are you alright, Miss Glimmer?”

Starlight groaned. “Does every one of your kind treat foreign ponies like that?”

“Of course not.” He paused. “Many of them would not have even bothered to warn you before they went to decapitate you.”

“Isn't that illegal or something?”

“I am afraid not. An Imperial may kill a non-Imperial with impunity, legally speaking. The barbarians are second-class citizens at the very best. This is why an Imperial bodyguard is such a wonderful thing for a foreigner to have. If the Imperial who would seek to harm you killed your bodyguard, he would be a marked stallion for having done so, which means he will, in most cases, not make the attempt.”

Party Favor quivered in place; his breathing went heavy and unsteady. “I wanna get out of here. This p-place is sss-s-s-scary.”

Starlight glared at Party Favor. “Shut your mouth.” She watched Party Favor purse his lips, then looked back to the Wanderer. “Alright. Let's go. I'm in the mood for soup.”

The Wanderer nodded. “Very well. Follow me then, Miss Glimmer. I do not want you lost here.”

After a bit of time of walking down the streets, passing by a couple starving beggars with empty donation bowls beside them, Party Favor heard a shouting from an assembly of ponies from the upper left of the intersection. He looked there, and saw an old Imperial stallion with a white beard tied into one big braid, speaking down to an audience from a stage with two guards at his sides, and six guards posted at a perimeter around the crowd. At the back of the stage were rows of ponies – mare and stallion; adult and child; unicorn, pegasus, and earth pony – in shackles and chains.

Starlight stopped and looked at the congregation. The Wanderer and Party Favor stopped with her.

Starlight looked up at the Wanderer. “What is this?”

The Wanderer looked down at Starlight. “Remember when I said that barbarians were second-class citizens at the very best?”

Starlight nodded. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Those who are not second-class citizens are slaves. Property, to be bought and sold. These towns along the road tend to have slave auctions in abundance due to their proximity to brigand settlements.”

Party Favor felt illness brew in his stomach. The very idea of ponies being bought and sold like livestock did that to him.

Starlight glanced at the auction stage. “Can I go up there? I'm a bit curious. We don't have slavery in Equestria.” She smirked. “I always wondered what it'd be like to own a slave.”

“Sure. We can spend a few minutes there.”

Party Favor followed them up to the bidding place. The closer he came to it, the sicker his stomach felt. The shackled mares and stallions up there had grim frowns and hopeless looks in their eyes. He looked to Starlight in the hope that her face would show some signs of sadness. But it did not. Starlight observed the stage as she would have observed a museum exhibit. Yet another sliver of hope was lost in him.

When he got close enough, he could hear the auctioneer's words more clearly. “Sold! To the mysterious hooded stallion from Belogorsk. Next up, a male earth pony. In its late teens. Former caravan guard; taken by raiders and gelded. Hah! No need to worry about it getting feisty or lusty with your wives, folks. It'll pull your wagons and carry your supplies on its back with minimal whipping. The bid starts at one-hundred schillings.”

A voice from the crowd shouted, “One-hundred-ten schillings.”

Another shouted, “One-hundred-twenty-five schillings.”

“I'll pay one-hundred-fifty!”

After a moment of silence, the auctioneer pointed at the highest bidder. “One-hundred-fifty going once… going twice… sold! To the chubby mare from Brustworth.”

Party Favor looked up at the stage. To his chagrin, he watched as the gelding slave was pulled by a guard's magical grip on the chain around his neck downstage, where his new owner waited for him. Another slave was then pulled from the back of the stage. A unicorn mare. A very, very pretty unicorn mare.

“Our next offer,” the auctioneer said, “is this fine young piece of meat, captured from a Byzuntonian caravan. It's in its mid-to-late teens, with pretty eyes and a bouncy flank. This one was born to be a bed-slave, folks! To all you stallions out there without much luck with the ladies, your schilling's in this week! Assuming you have the coin to pay for it.” He laughed. “Bid starts at two-hundred schillings.”

“I'll pay two-hundred-fifty schillings.”

“Three-hundred! Three-hundred schillings!”

“No, I'll pay three-hundred-fifty.”

“Four-hundred!”

A moment of silence. “Four-hundred going once… going twice… sold! To the elderly stallion with the navy-blue coat.”

Party Favor forced himself to watch as the young mare was pulled downstage. He could faintly see the tears welling in her eyes. He felt his own eyes start to tear up, but he forced them back, and swallowed his sadness.

Another slave came up stage. It was a unicorn filly, no older than eight, with a bruised eye and a purple scar across her cheek.

“This one's a special offer. It's not every day a filly's got parents too dumb or too uncaring to let it get picked up by slavers. This one looks like a promising bed-slave folks! You can break it in before it even hits puberty… if you're into that sort of thing. Bid starts at one-hundred-seventy-five schillings.”

Party Favor felt the festering illness in his stomach turn to a boiling rage at the thought of a filly being put through that. He snapped his gaze to Starlight. “Come on,” he whispered. “This isn't right. We have to do something about this!”

Starlight looked indifferently to Party Favor. “No.”

“Come. On. It's a little filly. You did all those raiders in, so why not these horrible slavers?”

Starlight blinked. “We would have nothing to gain from it.”

Party Favor narrowed his eyes, then raised his voice. “What about doing the right thing, huh? This is slavery for Celestia's sake! Don't you see that?”

Starlight groaned. “Don't make a scene. You're acting foolish.”

“Well you know what?” Party Favor screamed. “I'm gonna make a scene! THIS IS WRONG!”

All the crowd looked curiously to Party Favor and Starlight. Party Favor stood there fuming in anger, compounded a moment after with slight embarrassment. Suddenly, he felt his throat constricted by a beige aura. As he struggled for air, his head was forced to face the Wanderer, whose horn glowed with the same beige aura.

“You idiot,” he snapped. “I will not have you make fools of us in public. If you continue to act this way, then I will geld you on the very spot on which you stand, then I will drag you up to the stage and auction you as a slave for one schilling. Is that understood?”

Fear struck Party Favor's heart like a knife. His anger was swapped with terror. 'Oh god,' Party Favor thought. 'He'll actually do it,

won't he? I gotta do what he says. I don't have a choice.' He looked at the Wanderer with pleading eyes.

Once Party Favor felt the grip on his throat loosen, he gasped for air, then said, “Alright, alright! I won't speak out against slavery anymore, I swear!”

The Wanderer dissipated the auras on his horn and on Party Favor's neck. “Good. Remember: Only speak when you are spoken to. Follow this simple rule, and situations like this will be averted.”

Starlight groaned. “Come on. Let's go.” She walked out of the auction in a huff. “I'm really disappointed in you, Party Favor.” She sighed and shook her head. “I've never felt this embarrassed before in my life.”

A lively duet of two wooden flutes served as background music for the patrons who sat in stools along a bar, and on chairs set up near wooden tables. All but a few of them drank half-liters of ale from clay mugs, and only a few of them partook in various sorts of bread, soups, and salads. One table had a group of three Imperial guards, who indulged on turkey legs.

Party Favor watched as Starlight sauntered over to a bar stool with a smile on her face, and the Wanderer followed her.

The Wanderer magically gripped a stool and pulled it back for Starlight. “After you, my well-paying client.”

Starlight chuckled. “Thank you, my kind and dutiful bodyguard.” She sat on the stool and looked to the bartender – a unicorn stallion – to her right, who had just finished refilling another patron's drink.

The bartender looked back at her and approached her with a polite smile. “Hello there, ma'am. I've never seen you around these parts. Are you new?” He had an accent that reminded one of olives and competitive sports.

“I am,” Starlight replied. “I'm from Equestria.”

“Oh, are you? We don't get a lot of them here. Equestrians, I mean. Is it really as nice as they say it is?”

“Hm? How so?”

“Well, they say Equestria has clean streets. And good-paying jobs. And hardly any crime. Is all that true?”

Starlight nodded. “Yep. It's all true.”

The bartender gestured to the other patrons. “Well, what are you doing in this place? Here to remind yourself how good you have it over there?”

“Mmm. No. I have other reasons.”

The bartender nodded. “Oh. Okay, then. So what can I get you guys today?”

Starlight put a hoof to her chin. “Hmm. What kind of food do you have? I'm a bit peckish.”

“Can I recommend the house soup? It's a cabbage soup in a spicy tomato broth. One of our most popular dishes.”

“Oh, I was in the mood for soup! Sounds good. I'll get that, and the house ale.”

“Alright. The house soup and the house ale for the lady.” He looked to the Wanderer. “And for you, sir?”

“For me,” the Wanderer said, “I want a flagon of the Brustworth lager.”

The bartender nodded, then looked to Party Favor. “And for you?”

The Wanderer put a hoof to Party Favor's chest and pushed him back a couple paces. “You will get him nothing.”

The bartender chuckled. “Okay, then. House soup and ale for the lady, Brustworth lager for the sir, and nothing for dopey-looking slave. I'll be back in a few minutes with the drinks, the food, and the bill.” With that, the bartender walked to a wooden door behind the counter, then opened the door and left, shutting the door behind him.

Starlight looked to the Wanderer with a smile. “So. Brustworth lager, huh? What is a lager, anyway?”

“You don't have lager in Equestria?”

Starlight shook her head. “No. We don't.”

“It is the Empire's national brew,” he replied. “It is a stout and crisp sort of beer. Aside from her superior Legions and her superior work ethic, the Empire is known for her brew.”

“Can I have a sip of it when it's here?”

“Sure. I do not see why not.”

“And while we're waiting… why don't you tell me a story?”

The Wanderer blinked. “A story, Miss Glimmer?”

“Yeah. A story. Don't you older stallions always have some personal anecdote you like telling us younger ponies?”

“I might have a few interesting ones. What kind of stories do you like?”

“You're a war veteran, right?”

The Wanderer nodded. “I am quite old. Even older than I look, if you can believe it. I am a veteran of several wars. You… would like to hear a war story?”

Starlight smiled wider, then nodded.

“Very well. Let me tell you of the time I escaped from a Changeling prisoner-of-war holding chamber when I was a tent-leader. Or, sergeant, if you prefer.” He cleared his throat. “You see, when the Changeling Queen, Chrysalis, had been newly coroneted, the Empire thought it in her best interest to attack the Changeling hive past the mountain range to the south, to the volcanic wastes below, while she was still young and inexperienced. I, as an elite shock trooper, was tasked wi-”

“Hey!” interrupted a male voice from the right side, with the same accent as the bartender. It was a male earth pony, who glared at Starlight with bloodshot eyes and veins popping in his forehead. He brandished his teeth in a grimace, and around his nostrils was a fine red powder. “I don't like your face.”

Starlight looked to the angry stallion. “Sorry.”

The enraged one snarled like a wolf. “You dunno who you're talking to. Do you know who I am? DO YOU!?” He paused. “I have the DEATH. SENTENCE. In every single city-state of the Federation of Byzuntonia, and the Ruusonian prince, himself, put a price on my head. You know what that means, girl?”

Starlight chuckled. “That your ugliness is a crime worthy of capital punishment?”

“You'll be dead!”

The Wanderer stepped up between Starlight and the mad buffoon. “This little one is not worth the effort. Perhaps a drink will calm your nerves?”

With a frenzied scream, the furious stallion stood up on his hind legs and made an attempt to grab the Wanderer's neck with his forelegs. But the Wanderer made a quick backhoofed swing at his ribs; it was a blur that made a loud crack echo in the pub and sent the angry one collapsing on the floor on his side. The Wanderer's horn glowed, and as soon as the berserker found an aura around his neck, his head was ripped off from it with an audible tearing of skin, muscle, and organ. Blood from the headless body formed a pool on the floor beneath it, and the severed head's face twitched for a couple seconds before its life escaped it.

Starlight had a laugh at the dead moron's expense. The others in the crowd looked curiously, and a few shared in Starlight's laughter, including the three Imperials who dined on turkey legs.

The bartender shouted from the other side of the wooden door. “Can't you idiots take your fights outside? How am I supposed to run a business when I have corpses littering the floor? Argh!”

The crowd had a collective chuckle, then went back to their normal routines, as if nothing happened.

The Wanderer sighed and shook his head, then looked back to Starlight. “Anyway. Back to the story…” Next Chapter: Chapter 5 Estimated time remaining: 8 Hours, 2 Minutes