Honour Bound

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Things were not working out how Corporal Bound thought they would.

Having to answer questions and getting a stern warning from the Royal Guard Military Ponice -- that, she’d expected. Provided that the batponies had a checkpoint of their own, she’d anticipated difficulties there, too.

But their antagonism towards her squadmate Ebonshield?

Even though she was one of them?

That was unexpected.

Could it possibly have to do with the sergeant’s present assignment? 'València' even called her 'traitor.' She'd only been in their quaternion for eight days! Did they really think serving as an Equestrian Lord's bodyguard was treasonous? It seemed inconceivable that one job could attract such hatred. Especially one that was ordered by Princess Luna!

Or was Ebonshield’s posting the result of some previous betrayal? A kind of ostracism? Then how could Honour explain their refusal to honor the Princess' signature on her authorization papers? From Her Majesty's description of events a thousand years ago, and from the way Eb treated or talked about her 'Mother-of-Stars,' it sounded like Batponies almost literally worshipped the Princess of the Moon. How could they disobey their Goddess?

And how could they hate one of their own for doing as their Goddess told them?

It was not as if she'd been cast out completely -- Honour knew for a fact that Ebonshield had come back to the Rookery several times since taking her posting. She ate most of her meals under the mountain, for certain. Something else must be going on, and Honour decided to pay close attention to how any other 'Children of the Stars' treated her middle-aged sergeant first class, to see if she could suss out any clues from their interactions.

With the ambush-checkpoint now well behind them in the stalagmite room, the passage narrowed down to a red-lit tunnel again, and the group found themselves descending once more. The path spiraled down to the left; it was tough to tell, but it seemed like it was folding back on itself every fifty or so paces.

As they trotted down the long ramp, Honour’s thoughts turned back to the encounter at the inner frontier. It wasn't just the other batponies' behaviour that had surprised her. What her own squadmate had done was almost as shocking, if not even more. Sergeant First Class Ebonshield literally threatened those border-guards with death if they didn't let their group through.

Not just death -- death and a cover-up that would put them at fault for throwing the first kick.

Ebonshield even laid claim to taking on all twelve at once, and boasted that she'd come out on top! What kind of a pony could take on twelve enemy guardsponies all at the same time?

Nopony Honour knew of, that was for sure. A hotshot MXP tournament champion like Kilfeather would struggle if they got ganged up on by five or six other pegasi, even if all they had was basic training at 'shoe camp under their belts. Maybe things would be different in the open skies, where he could put his maneuverability to good use. But in a purely physical contest, there was only so much that skill could do.

Even a skilled unicorn with a good array of spells could maybe take on ten, non-unicorn guards, but in a confined arena, it would be close. That would be with magic, too -- and Honour had no reason to believe Ebonshield could channel mana. Besides, if she somehow had magic, then the twelve against her probably did as well. That would level out the playing field.

One pony against twelve other creatures was another story; Honour herself was walking just in front of a unicorn who was probably responsible for downing dozens, if not hundreds of changelings. But pony-on-pony? On a level playing field?

Outside of the Princesses, the Elements of Harmony, the Founders, and Pillar-ponies like Star Swirl, one had to reach into epic fantasy or ancient history to find warriors that powerful -- and a figure like Star Swirl counted as both. It was, therefore, ridiculous for Ebonshield to claim she could kill them all, without even the help of the rest of the quaternion -- and yet they believed her!

That's what was really outrageous!

The batponies got the drop on them and surrounded them, and seemed to be spoiling for a fight. But Honour’s sergeant said 'I will kill you all unless you move,' and they moved!

Unbelievable!

Of course, it was possible that there weren't really twelve of them. Given that they were on guard duty, it was certainly possible that a few of their number were raw recruits, maybe not even equivalent to a Royal Guardspony out of horseshoe camp. That evened things out. A bigger factor was that if a fight did break out, the batponies would have had to assume that the rest of them would jump in as well.

Honour probably would've been tackled before getting her spear out, but she didn't doubt that the rest of the group would put up a decent fight. If Glamerspear could just get a shield up, then Sparkshower could probably dispatch several of them once she brought that longspear of hers to bear. Even Anonymous, with zero training but with solid bronze armor and a huge weapon, could probably have carried his own weight.

That would leave just two or three for the sergeant, which was perfectly reasonable if she was as skilled a warrior as Honour thought she might be.

Maybe it wasn't an outrageous bluff on Ebonshield's part after all.

---

Suggested background music: Jerry Goldsmith - 'V'Ger Flyover', from 'Star Trek: The Motion Picture' [1979]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pSrKEv9s6pw

---

A light coming from down ahead of them intruded upon Honour’s mental exploration of how their most recent encounter could have played out. There was a noise accompanying it as well...

Wind?

Or running water?

The Sergeant spoke up as she carried on ahead. "We are approaching the Cave of Pillars. Please mind your step; the ground ahead is uneven."

One final twist of the brightening spiral passageway, and all thought of fighting ceased as Honour and everypony else came to an abrupt stop to gape in awe.

"Buck me." Glamerspear couldn’t resist an expletive.

Even Sergeant Ebonshield, who must have seen this all before, paused to allow them to take in the scene.

Honour knew there were caves inside Canterlot mountain -- everypony knew that -- but she’d never imagined any of them looked like this. The spiral passage had deposited them at the edge of a narrow, fifty-hoof cliff, and from it they looked out over a roughly circular cavern that must have been two hundred hooves wide. On the right, a triple waterfall cascaded down from a narrow crack in the ceiling, pouring water into a river that snaked along the cavern floor before it disappeared under a rocky shelf to the left. Above, two huge, spherical iron cages, suspended on black chains from the ceiling, glowed with powerful, white arcane light.

But it was the structure of the place that was really stupefying.

The whole cave -- the walls, the riverbed, the ceiling, even the floor beneath their hooves -- seemed to be made out of thousands upon thousands of small pillars of dark grey stone, each about a hoof or two in diameter, and none of them quite even with their neighbor. Almost as if somepony built this place out of foal's toys... or stacks of paving stones. It made for a striking effect as the light from above reflected off the water below and sent shadows rippling across the zig-zagging surface.

From behind her, Honour heard the Royal Engineer push his helmet back off of his face.

"Hexagonal basalt columns... Canterlot Mountain was once a volcano..."

---

Suggested reading: Fingal's Cave and Columnar Jointing

---

The corporal glanced down, and saw that the strange columns making up the ground were six-sided -- mostly. As she looked over the cave once more, she realized that the terrain was so bizarre that she hadn’t even noticed the pony-made structures dotting the cave floor below. There was a little wooden bridge over the river, just downstream from the waterfall cascade. At the far end, where the water disappeared deeper into the mountain, a large metal grate served to stop anypony from falling in.

And there was a batpony down there!

Three of them, even!

Honour stepped forward, mindful of the sheer drop ahead of her and the uneven ground beneath her hooves, and looked down at them. They were all carrying copper buckets and didn’t seem the least bit mindful of her presence, fifty hooves above them and almost twice that far away horizontally. One by one, they filled the buckets from the river and then fluttered off slowly towards one of the far wall's jagged exits. Honour couldn’t make out any noises they might’ve been making over the roar of the waterfalls, but it seemed as if they were chattering amongst themselves.

Such an incredible place -- and it was just the Rookery's communal water-well?

What other wonders did the mountain hold underneath its slopes?

Sergeant Ebonshield beckoned them all along the cliff-face to their right. "Come; we are about to enter the Rookery proper. Please to remain quiet as I have instructed. We shall take the route through the marketplace; it is improbable that it would be busy at this hour."

A batpony marketplace?

Honour was almost too busy watching her step to fathom the sight of what that might look like.

The ledge they were on cut steeply down toward, and behind the waterfall, shielded from above by another cliff that rose out above the one they trod, composed of hundreds of twisting, bent pillars of -- what did the Royal Engineer call it? Basalt?

"Be particularly mindful of your steps here. The water makes the tiles most slippery."

Ebonshield, ever the tour guide, stayed steadily in front of them, still proceeding downwards on her hooves. Honour was surprised Sparkshower hadn't taken to the air yet -- managing such uneven terrain must present a tartarean task in her heavy sabots and confining armor.

As Honour passed the waterfall on her left, its spray washed against her. The columns there were covered in lichen and moss, the exposed rocky areas darkened from the water. Luckily, the hexagonal 'tiles' were each concave at the top, probably from erosion, and that shape compensated a bit for the mist-slicked conditions.

Finally, they reached the base of the cave floor, though the ground was no different there -- thousands upon thousands of interlocking dark hexagonal columns, of irregular height and diameter. It was almost as tough going picking her way across the flat terrain as it was to navigate the edge-ramp. Honour looked back as the rest of her quaternion, and her VIP, picked their way down as well. Sparkshower was indeed struggling, but she'd managed so far. Glamerspear's hooves were glowing with teal energy -- sabot enhancements, probably, to help with her grip.

The mark of a good unicorn soldier -- a really good one, anyways -- wasn't just their ability to perform their signature spells, but an uncanny knack for having the right utility magic for every situation. Honour would have to remind Glamerspear to share with the rest of the quaternion next time, though; the specialist was clearly too used to being in a 'cornfield' regiment composed entirely of self-sufficient unicorns.

With the soles of his feet covered by rough leather sandals, it looked like Anonymous wasn't overly troubled by the climb down, either. He'd probably be better off if his hands were free, though.

‘Hmmm…’

If that mace's shaft was too long for a scabbard at his hip, maybe Bronzehorn could make him something to sling the weapon over his back? Or at least something for one of his bodyguard ponies to carry it in, for him? It was a little unseemly for a Lord to have to schlep around his own mace everywhere, always leaving one hand unavailable. Maybe the Royal Engineer would have the same idea as Honour after navigating the passage on the way back out.

As Ebonshield led the way ahead, the corporal realized they weren’t headed for the sharp vertical cut on the left where the three water-gathering batponies went, but to a larger opening on the right. She said the market wouldn't be busy? Well, if all her kind there in Equestria were nocturnal, owing to having the night shift on the Canterlot Palace walls, then that left passage most probably led to the living quarters. What with it being almost nine o'clock by now, most of the batponies should be almost asleep, besides the ones on a day shift, like the border-guards.

A short, twisty passage led them out from the Cave of Pillars, and the floor changed back from the uneven hexagonal columns to a more comfortable, flattened surface. The walls smoothed out as well, arching gently above their heads. It was obvious that they were back to a pony-made passage once again. The hanging lights from the ceiling, miniature versions of the great illuminating balls from the Cave of Pillars, reinforced that truth.

Sixty or so hooves later -- plus five or six sharp bends -- and the passage opened up into a wide hall. Supported by what looked like natural rock pillars, the ceiling rose up to twenty hooves high -- well-lit once more by the hanging light.

But more importantly, this cave was filled to the brim with pony constructions. Wooden shop stall after wooden shop stall lined the outer wall of what must have been a big oval or circular chamber. Each shop was painted in faint pastel colors, too, giving it a chaotic appearance of a Saddle Arabian bazaar. The stalls were clustered around the room's supporting columns, too, leaving little room to pass in between. There must have been a hundred or so shops in there, of sizes varying from 'barely big enough for a pony to stand behind' to 'large enough for a whole platoon to sleep in.' Nearly all of them were closed, though, with tarpaulin or fabric or wood panels covering up whatever was inside.

There were signs and banners, too, and the letters are familiar to Honour, but the words made no sense.

'Gran Rebaja?’

‘Who is 'Rebaja' and why is her being a grandmother important?’

'Herrero?’

‘Her rear? Surely not.’

'Café'

Well, at least that one translated easily enough, unless she was greatly mistaken. Then again, maybe the batponies didn’t have coffee on the Moon, so they took the Equestrian name -- the Prench name, rather -- for the drink when some entrepreneur opened up a shop in there.

'Horchatería José'

‘Hey, that one's still open!’

The 'Horchatería José' stall consisted of a short counter-top with six stools, two of which were presently occupied. Beside it, there was a little open area with a few tables and chairs as well, all of them empty, with the chairs inverted up on top of the tables.

Clearly, this wasn’t the busy hour.

Inside, a sleepy-looking old batpony colt in a white cloth cap ladled a thick, beige fluid from a large copper canister out into a tall glass cup, then served it to one of the waiting customers, who picked it up and took a drink. It looked kind of like a vanilla milkshake. When the strange drink-server heard the cluttering of hooves, feet, and armor heading towards his stall, he glanced up, and then his mouth dropped open as he stared in wide-eyed astonishment at their group.

The customer still waiting for their drink nodded at him. "¿Oye, José? ¿Que pasa?"

Shaking himself out of his shock, the server stood on his hind hooves, clasped his forehooves together, and bowed his head as Honour’s group just started to pass by.

The two customers glanced over their shoulders, and there was the same reaction on repeat.

First, unconcealed surprise at seeing them all in their presence. Then, they both spun around in their seats and gave the same forehooves-together bow -- to Ebonshield specifically, the corporal noticed. The sergeant didn’t so much as acknowledge their presence, leading them right past.

As she stepped by the late-morning batpony drink stall, Honour heard the crackle of a frying pan, and caught the odor of sizzling eggs.

Some kind of diner?

Maybe that beige drink was alcoholic, like a cream liqueur?

Strange thing to be having before bedtime if so.

It was something to ask about later -- to be added to the bottom of the rapidly-accumulating pile of questions Honour had for her batpony comrade.

Unfortunately for the corporal’s curiosity, no more of the stalls along the way seemed to be open, and Sergeant Ebonshield was bee-lining for a passageway out of the shuttered market. Honour would love to go back there when things were open, though. It was so strange, and yet so strangely familiar. Going to Manehattan or Los Pegasus or Vanhoover -- they were on opposite sides of the continent, and yet the culture was so similar she could swear she’d barely changed places at all. She should know; she’d visited all three with past VIPs. But right here in Canterlot was a colony of ponies who'd been severed from Equestria for a thousand years, transformed into strange hybrid creatures by magical powers, and forced to live on a barren and alien world. Just what had they come up with in all that time?

Honour glanced back up at Anonymous, looking to see her VIP's reaction to this strange underground journey. He seemed to be just as intrigued by everything as she was, even looking back at the shocked customers of the 'Horchatería José' stall. When he finally faced forward again, he saw her looking back at him, and he tilted his head inquisitively, silently asking her if she had any idea of what was going on there.

She had to shake her head and shrug her shoulders; she really didn't.

Ebonshield led them into another tunnel, more dimly-lit than the last one, with its lanterns more widely-spaced. It was wide and open, though, easily big enough for five ponies to pass side by side. There were junctions, too -- they quickly came to a four-way cross, which they headed straight through.

Up ahead, a T-junction forked off to the left, and again they ignored it. A few dozen yards later, the tunnel took a bend to the right and they came to another four-way. This time, Ebonshield led them to the right, and the tunnel narrowed down until only two ponies could pass abreast.

The materials changed, too -- no longer the smooth dark grey stone seen so far; now everything was brown and pitted. It was almost sandy. The long hallway -- it must have been a hallway, for there were dozens of passages off to either side, each of them with a cloth curtain covering the entrance, and Honour could hear faint snores coming from one or two of them -- seemed to stop up ahead at a brown-colored dead end.

But when they finally reached that end, Honour realized the passage simply split to go around a single, large slab of lighter-colored rock.

And on that slab was painted a great white symbol which needed no translation.

An upwards-facing crescent moon -- practically the same as Princess Luna's cutie mark -- was supported from beneath by seven small, eight-pointed stars, which embraced a single large, bulbous-tipped, eight-pointed star within what would be the shadowed part of the moon. And their Sergeant was a 'Stellar Seven,' out of eight ranks, so that made things pretty obvious...

Ebonshield led them around the wall to the right, and the passage chicaned back to the left, joining up with the other side just as Honour thought. Just a few steps later, and she found herself about to enter yet another one of the Rookery's majestic rooms.

Their batpony guide stopped just at the threshold.

"We have reached our destination..."

She turned her head.

"... Welcome to the Grand Hall of Stars."

Next Chapter: Chapter 69 Estimated time remaining: 24 Hours, 18 Minutes