I approached Gale’s quarters in our new clanhold with considerable trepidation. We’d not spoken to one another since receiving the news of Cyclone’s death. In truth, I feared to confront her after how badly she had taken it. Much as I wished to see the rift between us repaired, I worried that efforts might only worsen it further. I had already lost a father to this damnable war; I did not wish to lose a daughter to it as well.

I knocked at her door, but she did not answer. I considered leaving the matter there, but I heard her within, and I was not so fearful that I would flee rather than face her. I entered her rooms and found her hard at work o’er a pile of papers spread upon a table, no doubt checking reports from her agents. I was surprised to note she had acquired one of the silken cushions unicorns often sat upon, though I supposed cold stone floors were far less comfortable than the clouds of Pegasopolis. She was either too focused ‘pon her task to note when I entered or simply chose not to acknowledge me. I suspect ‘twas the latter. “Gale.”

My daughter still did not look up from her work, which answered my question. Once ‘twas clear that I would not simply turn about and leave if she ignored me, she reluctantly set her papers aside. “Materfamilias. Was there something you needed?” She spoke with distant, detached professionalism, her voice utterly devoid of the warmth and affection it normally carried for me. I suppose I could at least take solace in the fact that she was not calling me by my name. ‘Twould have been a cruelly fitting response to mine own actions towards Cyclone.

Rather than linger on such unpleasantness, I took the opportunity to turn our conversation to other matters. We could discuss our familial troubles after tending to the war. Or mayhaps I simply told myself as much to avoid such a difficult and unpleasant discussion. “The preparations for the prisoner exchange are completed?”

Gale briefly glowered at me before averting her gaze once more. “Aye, I have done as you required of me, materfamilias. I spoke with Commander Bright Charger under a flag of truce to work out the details.”

“Ephor Charger,” I corrected ere I could think better of it. My daughter’s answering glare spoke plainly of her contempt, and I struggled to amend my blunder. “Well done, then. I am pleased to hear it.” Her annoyance remained quite untouched by mine attempt to win her o’er with fine words. I suppose ‘twould simply have to wait until a better opportunity to offer an olive branch arose. “I trust it went well?”

My daughter remained silent long enough that I wondered if she intended to remain silent simply to spite me. I was about to repeat my question when she finally answered me. “It went as well as could be expected. Sunbeam’s own negotiators had already decided who would be traded for whom, so all that was left was for us to agree on the other details. Bright did attempt to persuade me to join the rebels.” She let that thought hang in the air. “Howe’er, I know of my duty to my kin. Unlike some, I would not abandon them or cast them aside simply because I disagree with their actions or beliefs.”

I let the barb pass unremarked, though it rankled me to do so. Another quarrel with my daughter would do little to heal the breach between us. I suspect she deliberately sought to rile my temper, if only so she would have an excuse to vent her spleen at me. Though ‘twas not how I would normally conduct myself, I patiently endured and ignored the remarks. My pride could survive a few wounds if that was what regaining my daughter required. “Thou hast always done well by our clan. I have ne'er had cause to question thine abilities nor thy loyalty. I take it the exchange will follow the standard procedure? (1) Where will we meet?”

1: Standard procedure for prisoner exchanges in Pegasopolis was for both sides to meet in a relatively neutral location, with the armies remaining in open sight and far enough away that they couldn’t launch a sneak attack or use any ranged weapons. From there, one envoy from each side would bring out their prisoners, the two would meet in between the two armies, and the exchange would be made.

“Aye.” Gale nodded, the action sharp and curt. “Other than increasing the distance ‘tween our armies to account for spells, we saw no reason to break from tradition for the trade. There is a small island in the river that should serve well enough for the exchange, with our armies parked upon opposite banks of it. The river is quite swollen from the recent rains and should be barrier enough for us.”

I could not help but think that the river would prove a far less formidable barrier to pegasi than it would to our own forces, save for my clanmates. I briefly wondered if Gale might have negotiated less than favorable terms for us simply to spite me. Moments after the idea sprang forth, I regretted it. Such a thought was unworthy of me, and I did my best to remove it from my mind ere it shamed me further. Instead, I turned to other matters regarding the exchange. “Did they name a preference regarding who should escort Rightly, or give any indication who would bring Copper and…?” I paused, struggling to recall the name of the other pony included in the exchange. Sunbeam had named him in the briefing she’d given the day I learned of Cyclone’s death. “The other magus?” I concluded.

“Archmagus Piercing Cry,” Gale supplied, seeming to take vindictive pleasure in my failure to recall his name. “As for the exchange, they stated no preference beyond the fact that it be a pegasus or an earth pony, in order to avoid any concerns of deception through magic. Also, Bright was quite emphatic that the Grand Vizier not be present.”

“I am unsurprised by that condition.” I thought back to the discussion I had with the Archmagus of Canterlot earlier that same day. “Sunbeam has already broached the topic of deception and treachery in the exchange. Surprisingly, she was against it. While 'tis always a temptation to take one's own prisoners back whilst returning nothing, Rightly has little value to us save as an exchange piece. Retaining him is not worth losing the ability to make any future trades should the need arise.”

“She may be treacherous, but she is no fool.” Gale directed a glare out her window, in the general direction of the palace. “Let us hope the rebels feel the same. They have more to gain from breaking the trade—though both are valuable assets to their armies, ephors are more easily replaced than archmagi. Archmagus Sparkle informed me that Copper was the most powerful and experienced of her peers.” My daughter rolled her eyes as she amended her words. “Though she rated his skills below her own, of course.”

In fairness to Sunbeam, Copper had confessed to me that Sunbeam was his better. Though I was far from an expert on magical affairs, her performance at Avalon Vale had been most impressive, and she had shown a considerable breadth of talent. Howe’er, I saw little point in debating the matter with Gale, especially as neither of us had experience enough in the matter to offer more than anecdotes. Instead, I focused on the matter before us. “Dost thou know who they will send to guard Copper and Piercing Cry? I had thought to take charge of Rightly myself.”

“I suspected that would be the case and mentioned as much to the rebels.” A faint frown crossed Gale’s face, and for the briefest of moments, concern flashed in her eyes. “As for the rebels, Bright has informed me that she would entrust her daughter, Lance, with the task of guarding the magi. A choice she seemed all the surer of, once I confirmed that you would likely wish to bring Rightly yourself.”

That news was not especially welcome. Though I suppose ‘twas small surprise; ‘twas only proper that the captain of the hetairoi be the one to retrieve their false commander. All the more fitting when she had previously beaten Copper in a duel and would have outmatched me as well were it not for Sunbeam’s intervention. My pride stung by the reminder of my near-defeat, I struggled to find something positive in the choice. “’Tis unlikely we will be faced with betrayal, then. What I have seen of the mare and heard of her reputation indicates she will brook no skullduggery.”

“Mine own findings would agree with that.” She leaned away from the table, groaning and rubbing her eyes. “I noted that the rebels seem to think highly of her while I was within their camp. 'Twould seem she is a rising star among their ranks. She is one I would be wary of during the upcoming siege, given the accomplishments to her name.” The barest hint of a smirk crossed my daughter’s face as she continued. “Especially considering nopony has proven her equal on the field in one-on-one combat. Not e’en you. If I had to hazard a guess, Sunbeam may be the only one amongst our number capable of foiling her.”

I bristled at the reminder of mine own defeat. Were it not for my recent rapprochement with the Archmagus, my pride would have been far more badly stung by the implication that she might succeed where I had failed. Though given the strange resilience Lance had shown to magical attack, I judged that unlikely. “If there is treachery, we may yet have a chance to learn whether Lance is better than I. If we meet in battle again, I will not be denied my blades.”

My daughter’s brow knit in confusion. “You would speak of treachery when moments earlier you stated that Lance would not countenance it?” She shook her head sharply. “And I do not think Bright likely to be so duplicitous either. She is too direct a mare and knows how much Rightly and her daughter value their honor. I think ‘tween the two of them, Lance and Rightly might well do something truly bullheaded if Bright e’en attempted trickery.”

It briefly occurred to me that, under those circumstances, it might be in our best interests to arrange seeming rebel trickery. I could easily see Rightly refusing to the return to the rebel camp if he believed they had resorted to foul methods to free him. Howe’er, ‘twas only a passing thought; I would ne’er lower myself to such an act. Besides which, Sunbeam would likely point out the many practical difficulties of arranging such a deception on short notice. “I do not deny that Lance, Rightly, and Bright are honest ponies. Howe’er, they are only three ponies amongst an entire army of rebels. And e’en they may well fear a scheme from Sunbeam and take aggressive measures in an attempt to preempt it.”

Gale shifted the papers about on her table, stacking them neatly. “Aye, mayhaps.” She tapped a hoof ‘gainst her chin as she considered the matter. “I cannot deny that some of them are less trustworthy than others. Both Sunbeam and I are of like mind that Ephor Swift Blade is to be treated with caution, for instance.”

Ah yes, the Ephorate’s final member, notable at Avalon Vale only by his absence. “I agree on that point. He has always believed himself quite a bit cleverer than he truly is, and he relies upon a certain low cunning to substitute for his lacking martial skills. 'Tis fortunate he is in Manehatten.”

“Not so fortunate, I think.” Gale looked up, meeting yes with a pensive frown. “I heard news in the rebel camp about some recent events in Manehatten. The rebels tried to conceal it, but...” A faint smirk crossed my daughter’s face, Keeping secrets from her had always been difficult. ‘Twas one of the things that drew her to my attention to begin with.

“What news?” I demanded, my mind now fully focused on the war effort rather than my own familial concerns. “And why am I just now learning of it? I should have been told at once if something had happened.”

“I have not yet been able to confirm it through mine own sources,” she answered hastily. “For all I know, it could have been some elaborate deception. I thought not to waste your time on such things.” I wondered if that was the true reason behind it, or if she had simply not wanted to speak with me and used that as an excuse. If so, it put the problems ‘tween us in a much more worrying light. Bad enough for a mother to not be on speaking terms with her daughter, but a general who could not speak with her spymaster was no longer a mere personal matter.

Gale must have guessed at the reasons for my silence, for she refused to meet my gaze, instead tending to her papers once more despite them already being in good order. She quickly gathered herself and explained the situation. “I believe the news was fresh in the rebel camp when I arrived for the negotiations. I cannot be sure if such whisperings are well-founded or mere gossip. My contacts are well-placed, but e’en I cannot read the ephors’ mail ere they have seen it. Though I am hopeful I might yet manage that feat.” A hint of my daughter’s usual manner asserted itself in the teasing smirk that danced across her lips.

Sadly, her light mood lasted only a few passing moments, ere the business of the war stole it away from me. “Bright and Steel both seemed to be in a foul mood when I met them. Well, Bright was plainly in a foul mood, and Steel was e’en more laconic than he normally is…” She took a breath and finally spoke of the true matter “From what gossip I o’erheard in camp, there was a fire in Manehatten. Everypony of importance in the so-called Free Earth Pony Provisional Government was in a ballroom which went up in flames. By all reports, there were no survivors.”

Given the circumstances, I rather doubted ’twas mere happenstance that the building had caught flame. Especially a fire that struck swiftly and severely enough to leave behind no survivors. I had mine own theories as to the likely architect of it, as well. “I suppose I will have to offer my congratulations to Sunbeam, then.”

To my surprise, Gale frowned and shook her head. “I do not believe 'twas her work. She has her own contacts, but they are largely concentrated within Canterlot and other unicorn strongholds. Certainly nothing I’ve seen that is capable of an act on this scale. While she certainly has the skill to burn them all, that would require her presence in Manehatten. No small feat whilst Canterlot is surrounded by a hostile army.” She briefly paused, as if some other possibility had only now occurred to her. “E’en if she had some means of reaching or attacking Manehatten, I was with her on the night of the fire, planning. I doubt 'twas an imposter I spoke with. There is no other pony like Sunbeam Sparkle. And most importantly, ‘tis not her style. I think she would have preferred something more precise.” She paused again before adding dryly “Not to mention that if she had done it, we would have heard about it from her own lips shortly after.”

I chuckled at her final point. “That much is undeniably true. While Sunbeam Sparkle may have her virtues, humility is not one of them. She would wish to be lauded for her work.” She had certainly not shied from taking credit for far more infamous acts than incinerating enemy bureaucrats. “Whate’er the case, 'twill disrupt the rebel efforts. That is a fine thing indeed.”

“That it is,” Gale readily agreed. “Though the rebels did their best to hide it from me, ‘twas plain to see that the loss of their supplies pains them. I cannot imagine that decapitating the earth pony government will help them replace those losses.”

“Very good.” I trotted to the window, gazing out into the rainy streets. “Hopefully, this war is near its end.”

Gale let out a surprised snort at that statement. “I think that rather optimistic. We have won a battle, but they still besiege Canterlot itself. Aye, we’ve bloodied them, but from what I saw the rebels are far from ready to seek terms with us. They still speak as though victory is assured, and we merely delayed their progress with the battle in the vale. ‘Tis plain to see that despite our victory the city is still besieged.”

“Aye, I did not expect them to be broken by a single defeat.” I considered my words carefully, lest I say too much and betray Celestia’s confidence. “The Commander has a master-stroke planned. I hope 'twill succeed.”

Though I was not facing her, I could feel Gale’s eyes upon my back. Her words were carefully measured. “You do not sound confident in this plan. That is most unusual for you. Ne’er before have I heard you express doubts in her leadership. What has changed?” I looked back to her and found her staring down at the table, a deep, thoughtful frown on her face. “A plan that could end the war quickly would have to be quite a bold one indeed. Bold plans usually involve a high risk of failure. You do not think the odds favor her, do you?” She turned her head slightly, gazing back at me o’er her shoulder.

As always, my daughter’s keen insight served her well. “As you say. Though she is certain that it will win the war in a single stroke, she offers no certainty of it. All the facts before me say that her plan is all but certain to doom us, and she offered nothing more than blind faith and hope when I sought reassurance. I would give her my confidence, but she has given me nothing to hold on to. I cannot abandon my reason, and that tells me her plan is madness.”

Gale rose from her seat, pacing about the room. “Madness? Strong words indeed. What sort of gamble is she risking our cause o’er? I pray ‘tis not some new product of her melancholy.”

I hesitated once more, thinking how best to explain without revealing what Celestia had said of Lance’s destiny. “She thinks to entrust Lance Charger with considerable power—enough to utterly destroy us—in the hopes that ‘twill persuade her to take our side.”

My daughter’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide in shock. “That is ... you cannot be serious! I think she would as soon convince Rightly or Steel Striker that the war is a terrible misunderstanding, or Swift Blade to be her cup bearer. I only knew her from my brief time in the hetairoi, but she treasures her honor far too much to turn her coat. E’en were that not the case, her mother leads the rebel cause for the moment, and Lance is her mother's daughter first and foremost.”

I took a breath and spoke words I would have preferred not to. “Sunbeam intends to make a corpse of her—with or without the Commander’s approval, I fear. I find myself hard-pressed to disagree with her course. ‘Tis our duty to protect Equestria, as much from the ... mistaken hopes of our Commander as from any other threat.”

“Agreed.” Gale’s gaze dropped to the floor, and she chuckled. “Listen to us. I imagine we do not sound so terribly different from the rebels in this moment. Conspiring to defy our commander for the greater good.”

I could not deny that there was a bitter irony in that. Perhaps ‘twas part of why I found the rebels so troubling. For all that I felt the rebels and their cause needed to be stopped, I found myself just as quick to question Celestia’s judgement. “I wish to have faith in the Commander, but...” A part of me could not help but wonder if ‘twas possible for both sides in this war to be in error. That the rebel cause was irreconcilably flawed, and yet Celestia herself was unfit for command?

Still, she did claim that becoming an alicorn would alter Lance’s perspective. And Celestia did have considerable force of personality, when her melancholy allowed her to exert it. Lance was an honorable mare; surely she would at least hear the Commander out. ‘Twas not impossible that Celestia’s plan might succeed. And yet, I could not bring myself to truly believe in it.

I did my best to dismiss the matter from my mind, else ‘twould drive me to distraction. Better to focus mine attention on those few issues where answers were clear and duty plain. “No matter. Is there anything else to know about the exchange?”

Gale held my gaze for some time longer, likely considering whether she should press me further on the matter. Thankfully, she let it rest. “Neigh, there is not. At least, nothing of any great consequence. 'Tis to take place tomorrow at noon.”

“Very well then.” For a moment, I was tempted to end the conversation there. Perhaps ‘twas cowardly of me, but given the choice ‘tween ending it as a cordial enough discussion of our duty and dredging up the troubles ‘tween us, the route of silence had an appeal. However, I cared too deeply for Gale to let matters lie as they were. “We should have words, daughter.”

The professional calm my daughter had displayed for the bulk of our conversation vanished, and once more I saw the raw anger of a wounded child in her furious scowl. She had filled her role as my spymaster well enough, but the instant I spoke to her as a mother rather than as her materfamilias, that reserve vanished. “What more words need to be said? You spoke quite clearly enough when we received word of Grandfather’s death. You seemed to have long decided on your course by then, and were quite content to discard him for not following your lead. I do not doubt you would discard me just as readily.”

I flinched back at the raw fury in her voice and struggled to think of something I might say to appease her. Whilst I am choleric by nature and quick to anger, Gale’s temper was a slower thing. And like many ponies whose fury builds slowly, she was far harder to calm once roused. “I would have peace between us, daughter. This is not a time for our family to be any more divided.”

Gale scoffed, her teeth pulling back from her lips in a half-snarl. “What little of our family remains after your actions.”

My whole body slumped, and for a moment I felt an empathy with the Commander. I felt so terribly worn by this war and did not have the heart to fight another conflict with my daughter as well. “Gale, please...”

She continued to glare hatefully at me, but ere much time had passed she began to waver. Then her fury broke in an instant, and she slumped down as well, looking every bit as weary as I felt. Though I had known my daughter had reached adulthood some time ago, in my heart I still saw her as my child. Now, for perhaps the first time in my life, I gazed upon an adult. One worn and damaged by war, much as I was, and every bit as drained by the discord between us. “Speak your words then, Mother.”

I closed eyes and took several breaths, putting the utmost consideration into my words ere I spoke them. A single misspoken word might well cost me my daughter, and I had lost too much of my family to this war already. “Father's death is ... painful. Far moreso because 'tis not a pain I can express. Duty has its constraints. I cannot be seen to mourn him, for all know that he was an enemy of our clan and our cause.”

“I am not blind to what duty requires of us, Mother.” Her gaze hardened. “I do not expect you to publically wail and gnash your teeth o’er his death. But does duty prevent you from expressing your pain to your own daughter? Does it constrain you from offering comfort to your only living family member?”

I sighed, and looked within for the answer. “I was afraid. Afraid that if I let myself still care for Father, then ‘twould be seen as a weakness or a sign of disloyalty to the Commander. I cast him from my heart and hardened it against him, thinking ‘twould make me strong. Now I find that I have hardened my heart so much that I do not know how to open it once more, e’en with his passing. I cannot simply undo that I have done with him. Much as I mourn the stallion who raised me, I also see the stallion who sundered our clan and sought to usurp me.”

Gale held my gaze for a time, then slowly dropped her eyes to the floor. “What am I to say to that? What can we speak of when you cannot truly talk to me of Grandfather's death?”

“I do not know,” I confessed. “It may be that I will simply have to try harder to open myself once more. ‘Tis difficult to do so, when I have grown so accustomed to burying such feelings beneath the shield of duty.” I took a hesitant step towards her. “But whate’er the cost, I shall pay it. As thy mother, I owe thee nothing less.”

My daughter nodded, then turned her eyes from me. Her voice came out as a small, pained whisper. “Was your pride truly so great that you could never reconcile with him?”

“Once more, you ask a question I cannot know the answer to.” Though it pained me to do so, I turned my mind away from the question of whether reconciliation might have been possible. “We each chose our courses, and neither of us was quick to reverse once we had settled on a position. ‘Twould have been difficult. I regret that we did not have the chance to make the effort to reconcile. Howe’er...” I struggled to push the thoughts away, e’en though a part of me felt that only by facing them could I o’ercome them. “If I linger on what might have been, Sunbeam's fears will be realized. The Commander is already dulled by melancholy, I cannot risk sharing that. We cannot let our pain paralyze us, or many more will be given cause to mourn through our inaction.”

Gale refused to look at me, her wings slowly curling around her own chest and stomach. “We killed him, Mother. Though we did not deliver the blow, his death is the result of our actions. I helped slay mine own kin.”

I immediately went to my daughter’s side, resting a hoof on her shoulder. “Neigh, my dear child. 'Twas my plan to strike at the supplies, and ‘twas I who ordered the attack and forced his withdrawal. Thou shouldst not carry any guilt o'er it.”

Gale shook her head, refusing the absolution I offered. “Neigh, I have aided my mother and mater every step of this journey. Back in Cloudsdale, when Grandfather called on me to resist you and on your decree, I physically stripped him of his clan status. I helped you remove our clan from that city to go aid Commander Celestia. I was there when the plans were made for our attack on the supply wagons. I helped hold the rebels off while our allies burned their supplies.” She steeled herself against the unpleasant truth of the matter. “I did all these things, willingly and knowingly. I knew the consequences these acts would have. I am not some ignorant soldier who was only following her orders, Mother.”

“No, thou art not.” I drew her nearer to my side, offering what comfort I could without properly embracing her. Much as mine instincts commanded me to do so, I feared such a move might be too bold with the rift still fresh in both our minds. “Thou didst attempt to mend the sundering of our clan and family, at least. 'Twas more than I did. E’en when he asked to speak with me, I denied him. The last words I spoke to him were a threat of death.” My gaze fell to the floor. “A threat which, ‘twould seem, I have now made good upon. At least you made the effort to restore us.”

“Yet I failed most miserably, and in the end I denied him just as you did.” She slowly drew nearer to me, instinctively seeking the comfort of her mother. “And there is more. When I was in the rebel camp, meeting with Bright ... She asked me to join their cause. She said that I could avenge my grandfather, be given the opportunity to challenge you to juris, or bring you to battle howe’er I saw fit as opportunities allowed. To become mater of the clan, and bring it back into the Pegasopolan fold, our honor and pride untarnished.” Her head hung in shame, and the next words left her mouth in a barely audible whisper. “I was so angry about Grandfather’s death that for a moment, talking with her, I was ... tempted.”

I threw caution to the wind and embraced. “Gale ... I am sorry for the harshness that passed between us.”

Gale clutched me like a lost and frightened foal. “Mother, I...” Words failed her, but the tears brimming in her eyes were answer enough. I held my daughter once more.

I stood on the riverbank, examining the island where the exchange was to occur. It seemed unremarkable. In truth, ‘twas little more than a large sandbar in the middle of the river, though it did hold a small stand of trees. Most likely ‘twas larger when the river was not near to o’erflowing its banks from sustained heavy rainfall. (2)

2: Pre-war maps do indicate that the island was quite a bit larger than Shadow describes. It’s also worth noting that the island where the trade occurred no longer exists, due primarily to the heavy rainfall caused by the Siege of Canterlot.

My distant inspection passed quickly enough. “Nothing seems amiss. Though I suppose ‘tis possible there is some undiscovered force hidden among the trees.” There were not so many of them on the isle, but I could likely have hidden a small squad among them well enough to elude the eyes of anypony on the banks.

Sunbeam, present despite the rebels’ wishes, stared out at the isle with a thoughtful frown. “I see and sense nothing awry, though it would be a rather poor ambush if I could locate it from this distance and o’er water. I would be much more at ease with this entire proceeding if we could send scouts to the area for a full inspection ere we began.”

“The rebels would not allow it,” I informed her. “’Twould be far too easy to slip a single agent onto the island in the process of such an inspection. If twenty arrive at the isle and only nineteen leave, the difference might go unnoticed. ‘Tis why Pegasopolis has long-standing traditions for such exchanges. Ere the prisoners are brought to the isle, Lance and I shall conduct a joint inspection of it. So long as we find nothing untoward, the trade will proceed as planned.”

Rightly, resting nearby with wings bound and hooves chained, stirred at that. “I look forward to that. Though the guards were courteous within their stations, I do not care for being a prisoner in the slightest. ‘Twill be good to be returned to comrades, and to once more take up my spear.”

Sunbeam turned to him with a poisonous smile. “I assure you, we enjoyed having you as our guest far more than you enjoyed being one. I hope you had the chance to grow comfortable in your cell, for you will occupy it again at the war’s end.”

“Or perhaps you shall,” Rightly growled back.

“I rather doubt that.” Ere he could dispute her claim, Sunbeam continued. “Neigh, I think they would hang me from the nearest tree or lamppost if they are the victors. Mayhaps after performing some of the rather colorful acts I have heard your fellows devise for me, many of which do not bear repeating amongst fair company. Not that I have any intention of allowing such a thing.” Her eyes hardened. “Pray that you lose this war, Ephor, for if Celestia is beaten I will have nothing to lose, and the queen will no longer be able to stay my hoof. There is no depth I would not sink to if it ends with my queen restored to her rightful place.”

Having said her piece, Sunbeam turned her back on him, evidently judging him no longer worthy of her attention. Instead, her attention returned to me. “Cannot somepony of less value to our cause do the dangerous task of scouting the isle? Thou needst not risk thyself with such a thing.”

I shook my head in answer to her. “I have already been named as the Commander’s representative in this matter. Sending anypony other than the designated envoy might well spoil the entire exchange.”

Rightly grunted in acknowledgement. “And then I shall be doomed to enjoy Unicornia’s hospitality, or lack thereof, for e’en longer.”

Sunbeam once more ignored Rightly, acting as if he had not spoken at all. “Aye, I can hardly dispute that. Still, I do not like placing thee in such a vulnerable position. Thou wouldst certainly be a hostage of equal value to those they currently hold.”

That was true enough. E’en moreso, now that Gale had confessed she felt tempted by the rebel cause. If I were removed, that temptation might well take her. Still, I judged such treachery unlikely. “Thinkest thou Bright likes placing her daughter in peril any better?”

“Neigh, of course not,” Sunbeam conceded. I knew her well enough by now that I was not surprised when she continued arguing moments later. “Which is precisely the problem. She might take precautions where her daughter is concerned. I know I would be inclined to do so were Midnight in her place.”

As would I with Gale. “Thus, the isle's inspection prior to the trade itself. ‘Tis not large enough for anyone to hide from us if we search for them properly.”

Sunbeam sighed, her frustration evident in her words. “I suppose that will have to suffice. At least we will have ponies ready to respond should there be treachery.”

“As will the rebels.” I gestured towards the enemy forces on the opposite bank of the river. Like us, they numbered several hundred. Enough to be safe from any simple ambush, at the least. ‘Twas not unheard of for full armies to be used for such exchanges, though ‘twas usually considered ill-advised. If we had stripped Canterlot of its defenders for the trade, the rebels might well have attempted to sneak a force past us and into the city. Even the most honorable of opponents might not be able to resist such a prize.

“Trust comes much more easily when ‘tis backed by several hundred spearpoints,” Sunbeam wryly observed. She glanced to Rightly then produced a small spherical object. “And before I forget. For thee. One of the newer products of our alchemists. When thrown hard enough, the outer shell breaks, releasing a fast-acting adhesive. 'Twould be helpful to subdue a prisoner should he attempt to flee or resist thee.” She smirked at Rightly. “He seems somewhat restive, and I am sure thou wouldst appreciate having a means by which to disable him without hurting him. He is too valuable to have dying now.”

Rightly did not rise to her bait. “Folly. Resistance would put my fellows at risk of attack, and myself at risk of remaining a prisoner. Besides which, there is little I can do whilst bound and chained.”

Sunbeam waved away his objection. “This entire rebellion against Her Majesty was foolish, and yet that did not prevent you from starting it. I have found ponies to be capable of making all manner of misjudgements, e’en when the sensible course of action is plain to any who have eyes.”

“No doubt many of those errors relate to placing their trust in one such as you,” Rightly responded dismissively. He then turned to me, wearing an annoyed frown. “Shadow, this is unnecessary. Lance is a mare whose reputation is above dispute.”

“Aye,” I allowed, “but ’tis always wise to be prepared for battle e’en if one thinks ‘tis unlikely to actually occur. Far better to be ready for treachery that does not happen than to be taken by surprise when your enemies prove dishonorable. E’en the best of ponies can be tempted to foul acts under the right circumstances.”

Sunbeam was quick to offer her agreement. “And while Lance might be a mare of honor, this does not mean her fellows are possessed of such sterling reputations.”

“I suppose I cannot deny our cause has a scoundrel or two among its ranks, though none are highly placed or honored,” Rightly allowed. He paused and directed a loaded look at the Archmagus. “One can take the measure of a mare by looking to her fellows. Regardless, Lance and my fellow ephors know the value of this trade and the gravity of it failing. They will not allow anything improper to occur.”

“Especially when ‘twould diminish their oh-so-precious honor.” Sunbeam smirked at Rightly. “All the more so in Lance’s case, as her record is already blemished by her failure to protect her commander. Too busy chasing glory in duels to see to her duty. Still, best to be cautious. I do not see you complaining about the rebels taking the same measures we are, Ephor.”

Rightly answered her with a deep scowl. “You are present, Archmagus—in spite of requests to the contrary, unless I miss my guess. I would not wish to see you within a hundred miles of any event where treachery was a considerable risk. Given your nature and reputation, any concerns on their part would be well-founded.”

Sunbeam scoffed and waved dismissively. “Let them object if they wish to. I am an archmagus and Grand Vizier, I do not take orders from rebels.”

I moved to quash the confrontation ere they began bickering like children. “Regardless of reputation and honor, or lack thereof, enemies rarely have reason to trust one another. Let us hope that this time, we may do so.” I stepped away from the both of them, spreading my wings. “If there is nothing else to be said, I think I will make my way to the isle.”

Rightly attempted to grasp my shoulder, but his chains halted the motion. “A moment, Shadow. I would speak with you in private.” He cast a loaded look at Sunbeam.

Sunbeam rolled her eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. “Please do be quick about it. The appointed time is near.”

The archmagus stepped near me, and I felt the subtle displacement of a privacy spell. Despite the spell’s protection, she drew near enough that her cheek all but touched mine, and spoke in a breathy whisper. “I should mention that thou wilt be alone on an island with Lance Charger. Given Her Majesty’s questionable plans regarding her, it might well be worth the risk of spoiling the negotiations to remove her. Though do try to arrange it in a way that lets us regain our archmagi too.” Having said her piece, Sunbeam dropped the privacy spell and departed, her tail briefly brushing my flank as she left.

Once Sunbeam was safely out of earshot, Rightly frowned at me. “Your speech with the Archmagus is quite familiar.” There was an unspoken accusation in his words. No doubt ‘twas magnified by Sunbeam’s flirtations, which she’d likely done in the hopes of provoking precisely this reaction from him. Her petty cruelties were at least consistent.

I had little patience for Rightly’s jealousy at the best of times, and now was far from those. What right had he to object when he had refused mine offers? And in any case, such matters were hardly worth discussing when the war loomed so prominently. “Aye, I was familiar with her. And I think I shall continue to be so. Whate'er her faults, we have fought and bled together now. You know the importance of battle bonds.”

“'Whate'er her faults?’” Rightly repeated, staring at me incredulously. “I knew Valiant well enough before his passing, but blood and sweat did not absolve what he had become—and e'en you would name Sunbeam a fouler creature still. Think what you might of the Ephorate and its decisions, but the enemy of your enemy is merely an asset. Had I not already cause to do so, I would question your judgement on the matter.”

I saw little point to discussing the matter further. If Rightly sought to create dissent within the ranks, he was doomed to disappointment. “Question my decisions as you will. For the moment, she is a mare who placed herself in considerable peril to save my life, and an ally to my cause. That is enough for me to treat her as such.”

“And what has she received in return?” Rightly’s eyes narrowed, and he directed a brief glower at the long-departed unicorn. “'Tis not her way to be altruistic, and her past all but screams that she will use you, or is e'en now. I do not know what ends she aims for, but I am sure they serve only to better herself at the expense of all around her. As mine allies would say, do not sow a harvest with her unless you are prepared to reap the whirlwind.”

Irritation flickered in my breast at his continued warnings. I knew Sunbeam Sparkle far better than he did, and yet he spoke as if he were the more experienced of us. Though there was a time I would have agreed with him, fighting alongside the unicorn had changed my opinion of her. “I am not blind to what she is, Rightly. Howe’er, war makes for strange bedfellows.”

Rightly’s teeth clenched at that. Mayhaps I had chosen a poor proverb for calming his jealousy, but a part of me saw little reason to accommodate his foolishness. “Better to sleep alone than allow a scorpion into one’s bed. One must be behind a pony ere they can stab them in the back.”

What little patience I had left for him reached its end. “I have heard your words, Rightly. Unless you would offer new ones, I think there is little point to continuing this. ‘Twould not do to keep Lance waiting.”

“A final word, then.” Rightly stepped nearer to me. “I know not what Sunbeam said to you, but I will say that Lance Charger is more than my hetairoi, Shadow. I name her family and niece through marriage.” A hint of genuine fear entered his voice. “I know she likely wounded your pride, but if I have e'er had a place in your heart, e'en in the slightest, I would have you weigh that ere you give further thought to the Archmagus' machinations.”

I was instantly wary, for Rightly’s remark was most unusual. Was it mere coincidence, or had he somehow surmised what Sunbeam had asked of me? Regardless, I saw little reason to reveal any answers to him. “I know not what machinations you speak of, Rightly.” A moment of wit struck me, and I added, “When speaking of Sunbeam’s convoluted schemes and twisted machinations, one must be specific to avoid confusion.”

Despite all that had passed between us, Rightly chortled at that. “A valid point, I am sure there are so very many of them.” His smile faded far too quickly for my liking. “How this day ends shall speak volumes of all involved. I would not have it said that Lance was attacked by you, for I know she'll give you no cause.”

“I pray you are correct in that.” Though I shared Sunbeam’s concerns, I would not murder Lance unprovoked in the midst of delicate negotiations simply to remove a potential threat. “If there is naught else, time presses.”

Rightly sighed and nodded. “Very well. I would wish you luck, but ‘twould hardly be altruistic when the success of your mission ensures my freedom.”

“I shall accept your wishes, regardless of any ulterior motive.” I took wing for the island. Though the actual exchange would be done using boats in order to accommodate the prisoners who lacked wings or had them bound, the initial inspection of the island hardly required such inconveniences.

I found Lance Charger awaiting me on the island’s shores, such as they were. Perhaps ‘twould be more accurate to say the waterline, for now that I stood upon the island proper the sight of grass and shrubs beneath the water made it quite plain that the river banks rested far higher than ‘twas normal. There was perhaps some hopeful news in that, though. If the rebels’ rains were making rivers so heavily o’erflow their banks, the flooding might well cause them as much trouble as the rain had caused us.

Lance held her weapon at the ready, her eyes never leaving me as I approached. Once I landed before her, she stepped forward, carefully scrutinizing me. “I think it safe to say that you are indeed Shadow Kicker. Not e’en magery could so aptly disguise your true nature.” I inspected her in kind, though ‘twas far more of a formality in my case. Proper magic could provide a far better disguise than the more mundane methods the rebels would have at their disposal.

“And you are Lance Charger,” I concluded. Formalities must be observed, howe’er needless they might be. “Shall we proceed with the inspection?”

“Indeed we shall.” The two of us set out, slowly walking side by side along the island. “So, I trust you have been well since our last battle? You seem to have recovered from your wounds with no ill effects.”

“Aye, well enough.” I was quite grateful for the healing arts of the unicorns on that account. Though I still believed pegasi to be the masters of battle, one cannot dispute that there are some problems magic is best suited to solve. “One of my ribs yet pains me when I roll upon it improperly at night, but 'tis otherwise of no consequence, and ‘twill heal soon enough. And you?”

“No troubles that I have noted.” She paused, and a faint smirk crossed her lips. “Though my brother has taken to frequently complaining that I now snore at night, on account of the injury you inflicted upon my muzzle. He claims he can hear it e’en from within his tent. Howe’er, beyond that annoyance I am quite well.”

“'Tis a hazard of such wounds. 'Twill likely pass in time.” Now that I thought to look for it, I did note that her nose remained very slightly swollen. Not to any significant degree, but e’en a small amount could produce nightly noises. Once the swelling faded, so would the problem. Howe’er, another possible explanation occurred to me. “The brother who troubles you is Dusk, I presume?” Lance confirmed as much. “That being the case, ‘tis also possible that you are quite well, and his claim is naught but a jest at your expense.”

Lance pursed her lips, and I suspected sibling vengeance might now loom on the horizon. “That would be very much like him, aye. I have often suspected that Dusk had the terrible misfortune of being born to a warrior clan when ‘tis quite plain his true destiny was to be a court jester.”

“He was a fine guest in my clanhold.” My mind briefly turned to his time in the clanhold. He had conducted himself quite admirably, much to Gale’s irritation. I am sure she would have delighted in having an excuse to punish him. “I presume he is well? Given my daughter’s feelings for him, ‘tis all but certain she would have told me with the utmost glee if some misfortune had befallen him.”

“Aye, he is fine and uninjured, despite your daughter’s wishes.” Lance shook her head and chuckled to herself. “My brother is quite taken with her, despite her obvious disdain for him. I confess I cannot account for it, beyond the fact that he has always seemed interested in mares who share her general appearance. Perhaps he has an odd fondness for mares who constantly insult him and wish him ill. I have heard such things happen.” She paused, then grimaced in disgust. “Though I would prefer not to know my brother’s habits and preferences in matters of that nature. Regardless, he is well and now leads the hetairoi. As always, he is in fine spirits, too.”

That news caught me unawares. “He leads the hetairoi? I thought that was your post?”

“So it was, until earlier this very day.” Lance looked back to the rebel army, her eyes growing distant. “I have been promoted to lead one of the wings of the army. With only two of our ephors currently present ‘pon the battlefield, there was need for a leader to command the post.”

Unsurprising that a rising star such as Lance would be selected for such a role. “So your mother plans to put you in the ephorate, then?” (3) With natural reluctance and hesitation, I noted, “Cyclone's post is unoccupied, now. Somepony must replace him ‘mongst your ranks.”

3: While the importance of such secondary commanders varied considerably depending on the size and scale of the battle, for a campaign as important as the Siege of Canterlot, a sub-commander would hold almost as much effective power as an actual ephor. So long as Lance proved reasonably capable of exercising command, her promotion would be guaranteed.

“Aye, the post must be filled.” She was silent for a few moments as we entered the small copse of trees where the inspection’s most important phase would occur. Though trouble was unlikely, if it came at all ‘twould likely be hidden here. Once we had entered and found no immediate problems, she turned to me, a frown on her face. “My condolences for his death. Disowned or not, he was your father. He was also an honorable stallion, and one who should have been allowed to retire in peace rather than be used as a pawn on the board.”

“I would have preferred that,” I answered, struggling to maintain some level of neutrality to my voice. ‘Twould seem that whilst I had not been able to open my heart to Gale enough to fully resolve our troubles, I had opened it enough to find mention of his passing far more painful. “My thanks for your condolences. And your understanding.” I briefly paused to flit up and inspect a tree’s branches. “I fear this war may well make corpses of us all, ere it ends.”

Lance’s eyes lingered on a nearby bush. Her silence made me suspect she was disquieted by my words. At last, she answered, still not looking to me. “Aye, this war has been most unkind to us all. I doubt you have seen the slaughters 'mongst the earth ponies?”

“Neigh, I have been largely confined to Canterlot and its environs.”

“Aye, of course.” Lance’s wings flicked, and she paced about the forest floor. “Matters among the earth ponies have become most badly troubled. Some of Apple Tree’s kin chose to seek vengeance ‘gainst that of Danver Carrot. And then the Carrots responded in kind. The same has happened in other communities, where’er lines are drawn or old hates gain new life. 'Tis an unending cycle of revenge and reprisals between them.” She fell silent once more, plainly unsettled by the facts before her. “Commander Rightly, thankfully, brought an end to the worst of it. Though I fear what will come to pass should the war continue. We can hardly spare the forces to stop every blood feud amongst the earth ponies, especially when many of these feuds are between our loyalists and yours. If our farmers continue to kill one another, I fear we will lose more ponies to starvation than our blades before long.”

“It seems quite likely, aye.” Another disturbing thought sprang to mind. “And if old legends are to given any credit, the next winter will be a long and hard one.”

“Yes, those old tales. Dusk and I discussed them at length.” She halted her inspection, turning about to face me directly. “'Tis not mine intent to offend, but I need to cut to the quick of it. Why do you fight for Queen Celestia? What is it about her that inspires such loyalty in you?”

I would have answered her immediately, but I found myself recalling my discussion with Gale. I could hardly profess mine unthinking and total obedience when I had been sorely tempted to defy Celestia’s will by slaying the very mare before me now. I answered her as best I could. “Though she has erred, I truly believe she has Equestria's best interests at heart. And I fear the precedent that would be set by pegasi deciding who should rule 'mongst the other tribes. Each tribe should choose its own leaders as equal parts of a whole, not seek the approval of a tribe that is first among equals.”

Lance’s brow furrowed in thought as she considered mine answer. When she answered me, there was a slow deliberation to her words. “Do you deny that the pegasi and earth ponies no longer wish for her to be their ruler? That if she were to abide by their laws and traditions, she would no longer have any claim to being their sovereign?”

Tempted as I was declare her the rightful Commander despite all that had passed, I could no longer deny the unpleasant truth of the matter. With the utmost reluctance, I answered her. “Though I think her removal from Pegasopolis was unwise and done with unseemly haste, 'twas done in accordance with our laws.” I was far more pleased with my response to the second part of her objection. “For the earth ponies, the problem lay in knowing which outcome they desired absent all improper influence in their elections. ‘Twas plain enough that neither side was wholly righteous in their conduct.”

The other mare slowly gave her agreement. “Aye, ‘twould be all but impossible to determine who was the true victor. Better to cast the results out entirely in favor of a new election. One more fair and better regulated than the last mockery.”

“That would seem the best solution.” I sighed and glanced through the trees towards our opposing armies. “Pity the war began ere we could arrange such.”

Once more, Lance was careful with her words. “'Tis most regrettable. Though such a thing could still happen if peace were somehow declared.”

Her words surprised me. I turned to her, regarding her with suspicion and hope in equal measure. “Aye, it could. If the rebels were willing to offer such terms.”

A faint frown creasing her face. “Pray tell the truth for this question. I mean no offense ‘gainst your honor, but this matter is far too important to be muddled by the usual posturing of wartime. What do the unicorns think of their queen? Do they truly love her, and are they certain in their loyalty to her? Do they truly stand behind her, or is that merely the usual show of unity one can expect ‘gainst an enemy?”

I took some small offense at the implication that I might be dishonest, but ‘twas hardly worth commenting upon. “From all I have seen, the unicorns are absolute in their support for Commander Celestia. Whate’er their faults, she is their queen and has their hearts.”

Lance turned to face Canterlot, her eyes lingering on the city. “Mayhaps a compromise can be made? Before I came here, Dusk suggested a queer idea to me, though I do not think he dares bring it before Mother. While I am willing to fight for the rights of Pegasopolis and the earth ponies, I am disquieted by the idea of fighting to remove Celestia from her throne if the unicorns wish for her to retain her crown.” She tapped her chin, deep in thought. “I would consider it a fine outcome if Celestia accepted the decision of the ephorate regarding their selection of a Commander, swore an oath to ne’er seek to regain that office, and allowed for a free and fair election amongst the earth ponies. Let her keep her crown, if the unicorns wish it.”

In effect, Lance offered a return to how things stood before the war, merely with added reassurance that Celestia would do none of the things the ephorate feared she might attempt. “I believe that Celestia would find such a proposal most acceptable. Though I expect that the ephors would hesitate to offer such generous terms.”

“Mother would have me be an Ephor,” Lance countered, “and I would offer such terms. This is a war for ponykind’s right to self-determination. ‘Twould be a betrayal of our very cause to strip Celestia from office if a tribe wishes her to be their leader.” She nodded, her mouth a thin, determined line. “Aye, that is the way of it. I will suggest the idea to Commander Rightly and Mother at the first opportunity. 'Twould help if I had Dusk to support me. His wit is quicker than mine, and he has a talent for rhetoric and logic that I do not fully share.”

To think, this war might finally be ended. Not by Celestia’s desperate plans, or a long, grim, bloody struggle, but with a simple negotiated peace. I pressed my case. “Now would be the time to offer terms. We have denied you the hope of a quick, easy victory. If you can take Canterlot at all, 'twill be after a heavy price in blood. A reasonable compromise offers every side more than a continuation of the war.”

“Aye, 'tis true. Though I think we would take the city eventually, if perhaps not quickly.” I noted a hint of youthful pride in that last statement, though restrained by her discipline and judgment. “But 'twill be bloody for us all. Better to settle for terms all can accept rather than create a bloodbath that would scar all three of our tribes for generations.”

It seemed a fine thing to dream of. Yet e’en as hope began to burn bright in my breast, I foresaw the possible doom of our cause. ‘Twas an easy thing to propose peace, but far more difficult to see it done. For all Lance’s eagerness, Rightly and Bright might not share her views. Neither had seemed inclined to seek peace at all, let alone on generous terms. That put matters in a new light. “What would you do if your mother refused your proposal? If she insisted on seeing the war to its conclusion? Would you follow her, e'en if you saw the chance for peace in defying her will?”

Lance nearly stumbled o’er a root as my question struck her. She glanced back to the camp, and her wings trembled faintly. “I ... have ne’er considered such a thing.”

“And now that you have?” I prompted.

“I would sooner die than betray my mother,” she answered without a moment’s hesitation. Howe’er, that certainty soon wavered. “If Mother would refuse peace when ‘twould seem the right course, then ‘tis likely there are other facts which I am not privy to.” She paused a moment, and then amended her words once more. “Though if I am to be an Ephor ere long, I should not be denied such information. Regardless, I have ne’er opposed her will in such a way.” She looked to me, and her expression softened. “That said, my loyalty to Mother is due in no small part to the fact that she has always done what is right. If she refuses my proposal, then ‘tis likely because that action is also right. If it were not ... I do not know how I would react. But I do know that whatever would come to pass, I would try and do the honorable and just thing for Equestria. All of Equestria.”

Ah, and there lay the problem. E’en if Lance hoped for peace and would gladly accept Celestia’s proposal, she was a young soldier. If Bright ordered her to war she would obey, regardless of any doubts in her heart. There, perhaps, lay the fatal flaw in Celestia’s plan. ‘Twould be easy to win Lance to the cause of peace with honor, but she would ne’er break with her Mother to seek it. She might privately press Bright, but with the means of securing total victory delivered to her I feared Bright might not be so easily persuaded. Why seek a reasonable compromise when one could easily gain the chance to dictate terms?

Lance, presumably, had come to her own conclusions regarding my long and troubled silence. “I know that is not an answer you seek, but I have my duty to my clan and nation. But also to Equestria and my fellow ponies. This I promise you, I will talk with Commander Rightly, Mother, and anypony else that will listen to me regarding what we have spoken of.”

“But at day's end, you are a soldier of Pegasopolis and will follow your orders,” I concluded, feeling most grim.

“Aye,” she confirmed. “Though it seems likely that ere long a day shall come when I take a seat within the Ephorate, for now I am not yet a leader. And e’en if I am a member of that body, I will abide by the decisions of the whole, whate’er my private beliefs.”

Given mine own actions, her words stung more than I think she intended. Rather than allow my thoughts to linger on the matter, I chose to speak of something better. “I think you would make a fine ephor. Though I would prefer to retake mine old seat, if 'tis at all possible.”

Lance slowly nodded. “Aye, I foresee no difficulties in that. Two seats currently stand open. Your father’s, and Commander Rightly’s, once we put aside the symbolic measure of naming a long-exiled alicorn as our Commander-in-absentia. ‘Tis useful enough as a means of showing all that we fight for all Equestria, not merely Pegasopolis, but once this war is over the need for such will pass, and we can have a proper commander and full ephorate.”

‘Twas strange to think that I might soon return to Cloudsdale and name Rightly as my Commander instead of Celestia. But if that was the price of peace, I would pay it gladly. Though I would prefer to see Celestia restored, I would not send thousands of ponies to their deaths simply to see it done.

“Your own return, and reunification of your clan, would be something to be negotiated over.” Lance swept her namesake through a particularly large bush, nodding in satisfaction when only a large spider emerged. “Though I expect Commander Rightly would welcome your return, as would many others. This war should end with the Kicker Clan being brought back into the fold. All pegasi under one flag, as Lyequingus decreed.”

“Aye.” For all that my clan had begun to establish itself in Canterlot, I confess that I still saw Cloudsdale as my home. Our clanhold in Canterlot could be remade into a proper Pegasopolan embassy, if it meant a return to our old hold. “Peace...” Mine eyes turned up to Cloudsdale. “It sounds a distant dream, does it not?”

“Aye,” Her shoulders relaxed, and she looked to me not as an enemy, but as a comrade in arms. “It is a dream. But one worth fighting for. And I think I might see a light in the darkness.”

“Let us hope it comes to pass.” I offered her my hoof.

As she reached to take it, I heard the sound of a hoof scraping o’er a tree root, and felt the whisper of motion through the air. Ere I could call out a warning Lance’s eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly whirled about and thrust with her weapon, striking a solid object despite the fact that her weapon remained in seemingly empty air. There was a cry of agony, and a moment later a unicorn appeared, skewered on the end of her weapon. Whate’er spell he used to conceal himself, he could hardly sustain it whilst spitted upon a spear. A dagger tumbled from his telekinetic grip as the light slowly left his eyes.

Whilst Lance removed her weapon from the body, I recovered the blade our attacker wielded. A plain and unremarkable blade in most respects, but the thin coat of oily green liquid on edge spoke of a greater threat. “A poisoned blade.”

An assassin, then. Who would send an assassin to the island? My first suspicion naturally turned to Sunbeam, but the attack seemed unlike her. She had too much to gain from the negotiations going well, and ‘twas too blatant a move to suit her. Not that I doubted she would have Lance murdered, but I expected she would either see to it on the battlefield, or poison her dinner. A dagger in the back was simply too direct.

One of our other leaders, then? But that struck me as equally unlikely. Few of them would have reason to target Lance, or myself for that matter. Not to mention ‘twould spoil the negotiations. Or might that be the true goal of this? Somepony who wished to see the exchange foiled? But who would gain from such an act?

Another troubling thought occurred to me. If ‘twas somepony within the rebel camp, what better way to hide their involvement than using a unicorn for the task? While the rebels had attracted a few unicorns to their cause, most would still assume that unicorn would be acting as an agent of Celestia. Somepony might well have intended to not only halt the prisoner exchange, but to see it done in a way that left the blame at loyalist hooves.

I turned to Lance, intending to present my fears, only to find her glowering at me. “I should have known,” she growled, quickly cleaning her weapon before levelling it at me. “A clever plot, to distract me with conversation and deep questions whilst an assassin slipped into position to plunge a knife into my back. The treacherous blow you struck me in our earlier duel should have forewarned me of your true nature.”

I quickly stepped away from her, protesting mine innocence. “Lance, I swear on my honor I knew nothing of this. I would have struck him down myself had you not been faster to react.”

“A likely tale.” She brought her lance to bear against me, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. “Curious, how you also led me to a place where neither of our armies can see us, ere we encountered the assassin.”

Despite the peril, I felt myself growing most irritated with her. “Aye, the assassin picked a hiding place that actually allowed him to hide. Inconceivable. And e’en more surprising, in the course of searching this island for hidden enemies, we chose to inspect places where spies and assassins might wish to hide themselves.”

Despite my logic, the suspicious glare on Lance’s face remained in place. “A fine argument, but I mislike the odds of such a coincidence. Especially when I face a mare known for trickery, who is in alliance with a unicorn whose skullduggery and underhoofedness is infamous. Neigh, I do not believe it. Make ready to defend yourself, Shadow.”

Damnation. Much like her mother, ‘twould seem that Lance could become most difficult once her temper had been roused. “Lance, I do not seek battle with you.”

“Battle is upon you, whether you seek it or not.” She brought her weapon fully to bear, its bloodied tip pointing directly at my heart. “I say it once more. Make ready to defend yourself. This time, ‘twill not be a mere honor duel of hooves.” She jabbed forward with her lance, leaving a dent in mine armor. “I will make full use of my weapons and will end you if given the opportunity. Yield. You have skill, but you cannot beat me in a fair contest.”

‘Twould seem she could not be reasoned with. At the very least, I would need to restrain her in some manner ere I could make her listen. “In that, you are correct. I cannot beat you fairly.”

I drew out the tanglehoof ball Sunbeam gave to me earlier and threw it at her muzzle. The object burst on impact, covering her nose and mouth with sticky adhesive that dried mere moments later. Lance’s hooves frantically worked at the substance covering much of her face, but ‘twas no use. Her hooves could not remove it and the effort of trying merely stole her breath. She soon collapsed to her knees, her struggles already weakening.

“And that is why I will not fight you fairly,” I concluded.

As the mare struggled to breathe, a disquieting thought occurred to me. Sunbeam had urged me to kill Lance if I had the chance to do so, and now that chance lay before me. I only needed to let her lie upon the ground, and she would expire. She had taken the first aggressive act, and I had been well within my rights to defend myself. ‘Twould ruin the negotiations, but the assassin had already managed that feat on his own. E’en if I returned Lance unharmed, we would have to reschedule the exchange at the very least. If she repeated her claim that I had been working alongside the attacker...

Not to mention the threat she posed should she ascend. An alicorn in the enemy camp, one who would work to make the ephorate’s will a reality. She could very well be the doom of Equestria. Perhaps ‘twould be best to end it here. Take the safer course, and remove her ere she could become an e’en greater threat than she was already. ‘Twas certainly what Sunbeam would suggest, were she present.

And yet...

In speaking with Lance, I believe I saw the same greatness in her that Celestia perceived. I did not know whether she would bring the peace Celestia and Lance both hoped for. It may be that the effort was doomed to fail. But I thought she deserved the chance to attempt it.

One of my wing-blades snapped down, carefully slicing holes in the tanglehoof to allow Lance her air. She gasped in several grateful breaths, glaring at me with a mixture of fury, disbelief, and grudging thanks. She attempted to rise to her hooves, but they betrayed her.

“I will tell you once more: I had nothing to do with the unicorn who attacked us.” I helped her back to her hooves. “I apologize for the strike, but better that than having battle truly joined. The exchange is spoiled. Return to your army and tell them as much, I shall do the same. And I shall also carry word of your proposal to Celestia’s ears. I pray that when next we meet, ‘twill not be as enemies.”

And with that I parted company with her, returning to mine own camp. I was glad of my decision to spare her and e’en more certain ‘twas the proper one with every passing moment. Commander Celestia had been right. Sometimes, one must have faith in the decency of ponykind.