16 Dinner in Dogtown
Chapter Sixteen - Dinner in Dogtown
Nebula carries two smaller craft that can come in useful for transporting crew, passengers, or cargo when moving the entire ship is unfeasible or undesirable. They are hulls suspended from their own gasbags. The captain's gig can carry four ponies, and the cutter twelve.
I had the gig brought up from the cargo hold and swung out over the starboard rail on davits.[1] Hawser unpacked her gasbag, attached its netting, and hooked it up to a cylinder full of lift gas. While the balloon inflated, I had Ralf brought up onto the quarterdeck.
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[1] Small demountable, L-shaped cranes.
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He was still a bit groggy from the sleep spell, and it took a moment for him to grasp what I was telling him.
"You will go down to Conundrum alone?"
"No, Mr. Ralf. You will come with me, Mr. Half Hitch, and Ensign Shrrbrgrth."
He frowned. "The ensign? But… Dogs may not like… Hn…"
"I think I know what the problem is Mr. Ralf, but Sherbet will be going as a dog, too. Just to avoid any cultural friction."
He blinked at me, frowning. "Captain, you still call Ralf 'Mr.' But Ralf threatened the ship."
"And you still call me 'Captain,' Mr. Ralf. I am happy with that situation, unless you intend to resign?"
He just stared at me, mouth gaping.
"Mr. Ralf, you didn't just save that city, you saved me." He cocked his head in puzzlement, obviously not understanding, so I went on. "The point is that if anyone here requires forgiveness, it's not you. I am apologizing to you, and asking you to stay on as Nebula's engineering officer. "
Ralf looked around at the ponies on the quarter deck, as if seeking explanation or a second opinion.
"Please say yes, Ralf," Fluttershy said. "Good engineers are very hard to find."
Ralf started to say something, swallowed, and then just nodded his head.
"Good!" I gave him a pat on the back. "Looks like Bookmark's[2] gasbag is full. Let's get aboard and you can point out the best place for us to land. I want to be diplomatic about this, so let's not drop down right on the doorstep."
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[2] Yes, even small craft have names, and yes, I was the pony who named her.
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Sherbet transformed into a very nondescript diamond dog, bigger and much less cute than Ralf, and we all got aboard. Bookmark had little crystal powered fins that served for both propulsion and steering, and several sand bags for ballast. It was a simple setup, but more than enough for our needs. She could have gotten us nearly to Somnambula before the charge in her crystals was exhausted.
"Best place to land is in that side canyon," Ralf said, pointing as we sank toward the ground. "Wide, sandy bottom near the turn."
"That's a bad place to get caught if they're hostile, Captain," Sherbet pointed out.
"Obvious to anyone," Ralf said. "Bad creatures don't put tails into jaws full of sharp teeth. Good creatures trust."
"Descend and head for that bend Ensign… Can we call you 'Spot' for the duration?"
Shrrbrgrth wagged her tail. "It's not my first dog show, Captain. Spot will do just fine."
Ralf gave her one curious glance and then went back to guiding us to our landing place. In less than five minutes, we settled onto soft sand between the towering sandstone walls of the canyon. I had spotted nothing suspicious on the way down, but if there weren't openings where the dogs could look down on us, I would have been completely surprised.
Half Hitch and the Nebula Formerly Known as Sherbet jumped over the gunnels, and quickly and efficiently staked Bookmark to the ground.
"What now Mr. Ralf?"
He pointed up the canyon. "They come from there. We wait here."
It didn't take long. Within a minute, a pack of a dozen very large, very well-armed dogs loped around the bend and formed up in a line facing us. Ralf signaled to us to wait. A moment later, the line then parted in the middle and revealed another figure who strode briskly forward.
I had a hard time remaining calm and silent. I had seen figures very like the newcomer painted on the ruined walls of ancient temples in Anubia; not a dog at all, but a breed of jackal that the world at large thought was extinct. It would have been obvious that he was high-ranking, even if he hadn't been positively dripping with gold jewelry. Tall, lean, and jet black, with ears like spearheads and a tail like a whip, he carried himself with utmost confidence.
He regarded us silently for a moment and then spoke directly to me. Even flanked by two diamond dogs, I was obviously the leader of my group.
"Captain Blackmane, presumably? To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?"
He knew who I was. I tried not to let my surprise and dismay show. "You have the advantage of me, sir. Or should I say, sidi?"
That shook him—which I oughtn't to have taken pleasure in, but did. A shock for a shock, and all. "Ah… Wepaten is a mere seti,[3] not so high as the Lord."
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[3] Commander. Fairly equivalent to my brother's rank before he bagged himself a prophecy-spouting princess.
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"It is a pleasure to meet you, Wepaten Seti. This is my engineer Ralf, my ensign Spot, and crewpony Half Hitch."
Commander Wepaten nodded in turn to each of the Nebulas as I introduced them.
"Forgive us for not inviting you in immediately, but as your reputation precedes you, we must be so indelicate as to ask your intentions."
Well, I said to myself, here goes nothing. "The fleet that was here this morning? Their king ordered an attack on some friends of mine a little while ago. We have come to make sure that will never happen again. We weren't able to destroy them all because they were too near to your city, but we hit them hard enough to sink a few of their airships and drive the rest off. We have come down here to apologize for any inconvenience, and to make sure we haven't caused any harm to your people. Oh, and we also have some trade goods aboard. Might as well make a bit of profit off of this trip."
Wepaten stood, bemused for a long moment, and then waved a negligent paw at the line of bruisers behind him. They shouldered their spears, turned about-face and marched back up the canyon. "The Ornithians told stories about you that had been told to them by other—unallied aeronautical adventurers,[4] and we assumed they were, like most sailor's stories, much exaggerated. It seems we were mistaken."
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[4] Pirates. He meant pirates.
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"Oh, wildly exaggerated, I'm sure." I casually waved away the notion, while making a mental note to discover just who the "Ornithians" were. "But please tell me that your people are all right? Employing such a force as we did is imprecise at best, and I would hate to think I had harmed any innocents here."
He nodded slowly. "Some minor inconveniences,[5] but well worth the price to see the mighty Storm King run off with his tail between his legs, we promise you."
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[5] I later learned that he was understating the damage I had done to the caverns, and to this day I don't know if any citizens of the High Song were harmed because of my actions. It still bothers me whenever I think about it.
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"That is a great relief to me, Seti," I replied.
He nodded in acknowledgement, but said nothing for a long while, his eyes flicking to each of my crew members in turn. I had to consciously keep from fidgeting.
Finally, he grimaced a bit, as if tasting something sour and then asked, "May Wepaten speak to your underlings, Captain? There is no offense meant."
I hadn't expected that, and I didn't know what he might say, but the diplomatic response was clear. "Of course, Seti."
He gave a disdainful glance at "Spot" and turned to Ralf. "You serve this pony, bessan.[6] Why?"
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[6] No clue. My reading had given me a small glimpse of their culture and some common words (only a few centuries out of date), but the word sounded like an accusation.
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When Ralf responded, he spoke in a language I did not understand. The only words I could make out were Wepaten's name, title, and "Captain Blackmane."
Wepaten let Ralf speak for a minute or so and then held up a casually imperious paw to silence him. The commander turned back to me. "Captain, Wepaten invites you to enter the imperial reception hall, where you will be served refreshments and be allowed to rest until the wishes of Atenar Sidi are made known. Wepaten guarantees your safety and—"
My raptor set gave out three rapid bursts of static. Ao had something urgent to communicate.
"Pardon me for my rudeness Wepaten Seti, but I must attend to something." I floated the raptor out of my coat pocket, and pushed the transmit button. "Go ahead. Over."
Ao's voice crackled out of the speaker. "Captain, many dogs have emerged from a tunnel near the wrecks and are advancing on them. They are armored and bear weapons. More emerge from the tunnel as this one speaks. Orders? Over."
Wepaten was watching me keenly, alternating his gaze between my face and my raptor set. Before I replied to Ao, I asked him, "Will your troops need any assistance?"
"The King and his Stormguard caused much trouble to our empire even before they besieged us. Be so kind as to allow the dogs their own revenge."
Well, that sounded unpleasant, but I was in no position to object, even if I had been in the mood to interfere with a sovereign state on behalf of forces that had recently sacked an Equestrian town.
I raised the raptor again. "Take no action unless it is to defend Nebula. Observe only. We have been invited into the city and will contact you again when possible. Over."
"Understood. Out."
Wepaten watched me carefully stow the set back in my pocket. "An ingenious device," he said in an offhoof, disinterested tone.
"Useful," I agreed, just as casually.
After a mercifully short moment of awkwardness, he made a sweeping gesture and led us up the canyon for about a quarter-furlong to a large stone door that was practically invisible from more than a few steps away.
He gave a sign to some unseen watchers, and the heavy doors swung inward.
I had been in a diamond dog warren a few years back, and I suppose I had been expecting something similar to the same crudely fashioned burrows, even though I knew these dogs were more sophisticated than their distant cousins. Indeed, the tunnel immediately beyond the doors was bare and utilitarian except for a band of painted decoration along each wall near the arched ceiling, but when we reached the second set of doors at the tunnel's end and they opened…
Neither Ralf nor Spot gasped, but Half Hitch and I certainly did.
The large, high-ceilinged space that opened up before us was lit by hundreds of glowing gems in beautiful lanterns that hung from golden chains. The walls themselves were decoratively carved in intricate geometric patterns and painted in bright colors. There were fine carpets, cushions, and low tables scattered here and there on the floor. In the distance were another set of doors guarded by dogs in bejeweled parade armor, carrying beautiful, but very practical-looking halberds.
Wepaten guided us to a table that held a large crystal ewer full of water with matching goblets and several serving dishes loaded with little snacks. "Please be at ease. Wepaten will return shortly." He backed away a few paces and then went to the door at the rear of the chamber. His stride was smooth and fluid, unlike the lumbering gait of most diamond dogs of my experience—but not dissimilar to Ralf's, I realized.
I thought about that as I poured myself a goblet of water and examined the snacks. Half the selection contained meat of various sorts, but there were also little puffed pastries, both sweet and savory, and I contented myself with a few of those. A brief scan reassured me that the food and drink contained nothing out of the ordinary, and the rest of the crew began helping themselves.
Ralf immediately went for a plate of tiny hemispheres that seemed to be a mix of meat, ground nuts, and herbs topped with cheese. He popped two into his mouth and chewed, his eyes half-closing in delight. His tail rapidly thwapped against the cushion he was sitting on.
"Been a while, Mr. Ralf?" I asked.
He nodded and reached for more, and then hesitated, slowly turning his head to look curiously at me.
"I've eaten in palaces and fine restaurants all around the world, and my favorite food is still spaghetti the way my mother used to make it. Comfort food, you know?"
He nodded and gave me the ghost of a smile. I smiled back and made a mental note to get to know my engineer better—much better, when I had the time.
While sampling a little twist of pastry laced with a dab of soft cheese, I surreptitiously clicked the transmit button on my raptor once, which was the check-in signal. It didn't mean I wanted to speak with her, but it would prompt Ao to click back, so that I would know she was still capable of contact and listening.
My set remained silent.
That didn't necessarily mean there was anything wrong back on Nebula. The most likely reason was that the raptor signals couldn't penetrate the mass of sandstone surrounding us. It was a problem I had anticipated, but I wasn't glad to have it confirmed.
Our little party was on its own, which didn't bother me much at all. I had come prepared for nearly anything. I was more worried about Nebula and the crew still aboard. Not much more worried, you understand—Ao was incredibly capable and had far less restraint than I in doing whatever was necessary to keep the ship safe, but I was still not one hundred percent at ease about the situation.
A short while later, Wepaten returned, accompanied by two female jackal attendants, just as richly dressed as he and carrying staffs crowned with fans of feathers. They both had physiques similar to Wepaten, but were a light gray color, and their fur gleamed as if oiled.
"Honored Captain," he said, giving me a slight bow. "My sidi invites you to dine and converse with him. Your officers will be welcome to attend upon you, of course."
Even there, in a cavern below the Great Southern Desert nearly a thousand leagues from Canterlot Castle, the courtier-speak was completely understandable. My friends could come to dinner, but they were not to speak unless spoken to. I hated that sort of inequity,[7] but as a guest I had to play along.
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[7] Which is probably why I am not in the general good graces of the Equestrian nobility. I never made much of a secret of my egalitarian tendencies, and they see that as a threat to their unearned power and position—one of the few things they’re right about. Fortunately for them, I am willing to play a multi-generational long-game of reform, as long as I don't get myself killed in the meantime.
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We were led through beautiful, sumptuously carved and decorated hallways and corridors. Many were widened by lower arcaded lanes at either side, some of which were obviously designed to be used as market spaces. I noticed several places where decorative bits had fallen off the walls and wondered if they were the result of my bombardment or simply normal age and wear. There was no rubble left on the floor that I could see.
We were preceded by Wepaten and the fan-carrying pair, and followed by the decorative (but no doubt highly effective) guards. We passed many other dogs going about their business, some of whom were dressed nearly as richly as our guides. They watched us go by, mostly quietly and subtly, except for the pups who openly stared.
There were charged crystals nearly everywhere, most being used for lighting, but many were carried by individuals, which explained the moving sparks I had seen in my scrying dish. I was unable to guess how they kept so many magical crystals charged, but assumed that a question in that direction would not be welcomed, so I kept my curiosity to myself.
Finally, we came to a large double gateway, guarded by several dogs in golden armor. The doors were plated with gold and studded with gems, and the surrounding stone was carved with bas-relief scenes of jackals and dogs engaged in various activities, all in an elegantly stylized manner, all painted in startlingly bright colors. Equine or canine, I knew a palace gate when I saw one.
There was a lot of ceremony involved in passing through the gate. Wepaten used the large bronze knocker to strike the plate beneath it three times, pausing for the space of several breaths between each booming strike.
There came the somewhat muffled sound of a horn blowing a short series of notes from beyond the doors, and the two jackal attendants stepped forward and held their long fan poles at an angle in front of the gate, forming a sort of triangular arch for us to pass beneath. Only then did the guards push open the doors for us.
We entered and paused while a new set of four fan-wielding attendants—also gray jackals—came forward to flank us, then we all walked slowly forward toward the dais at the end of the chamber. The throne on the raised platform was so huge, and the space so dimly lit[8] that it was a moment before I could make out the figure that sat there.
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[8] The room had braziers and cressets with open flames in place of the usual crystal lamps, which filled the room with the scent of aromatic wood and incense.
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The jackal on the throne was practically entombed in regalia. The first thing I noticed was a huge headdress with a giant golden disk surmounting it that rose almost to the tips of his ears. Below his muzzle, a peytral of gold and lapis lazuli covered his entire chest. He bore a scepter in each paw, one that looked something like a shepherd's crook and the other possibly a flail, though a stylized one made of precious metals and stones. The kilt-like lower body garment he wore was shaped much like the simple pleated linen skirts I had seen on several dogs of the city, but it was apparently made of overlapping inlaid gold plates.
It was like my nightmare of responsibility-wealth brought to life.
The attendants made several passes with their fans between us and the jackal I assumed was Atenar Sidi, striking poses and tracing arcs and patterns in the air that were utterly meaningless to me. A flute accompanied them from somewhere out of sight. It was obviously a required ceremony, and we all waited patiently for it to conclude.
When the attendants knelt and struck the butts of their feathered staves on the patterned marble floor, Wepaten bowed so low that I'm sure his nose touched the tiles. I gestured to the Nebulas and they did the same.
I didn't.
It was a risk, but a monarch does not bow to another unless there is a bond of fealty involved. As a pirate captain, I was the monarch of a very small kingdom composed mostly of wood, rope, and canvas, but a monarch nonetheless. I inclined my head as a show of respect, but nothing more.
Atenar, who had been slouching on his throne, barely paying attention, sat up straight. His fur was so dark that I only knew where his eyes were because of the golden makeup around them, but I'm sure they narrowed at that moment.
He said something in his native language; several sentences at least, though Wepaten only said, "Atenar Sidi welcomes you to the ancient, mighty, and populous Empire of the High Song."
"We thank the sidi for his welcome and hospitality," I replied.
Wepaten's translation seemed much longer than could reasonably be required. I glanced covertly at Ralf and the little dog was smiling slightly, which put me at ease.
Atenar then flicked a toe of his right paw without releasing the scepter he held. A swarm of attendants came out of the dim recesses of the chamber carrying a low table, cushions, plates and cutlery. They set everything up in seconds and retreated into the shadows. All the goblets, utensils and chargers were solid gold and elaborately decorated. Atenar remained on his throne and where a separate table was set up before him.
When everything was prepared, Atenar spoke again, and Wepaten translated at what seemed to be a much more appropriate length. "Lord Atenar, knows that ponies do not eat meat, but the first dish—an 'appetizer,' is that the correct Equuish word?"
I nodded.
"The appetizer is traditional in this situation. My lord will present it to you, but no offense will be taken if you do not partake."
"I will be happy to receive it," I replied. I had eaten meat several times before, and didn't think it would be a problem. Ponies are not absolute herbivores. Coastal pegasi often eat fish, and rural earth ponies are not above getting a little extra protein in their diets via an unwary field mouse from time to time. Aside from that, the dominant species of many of the other universes I'd been to (and had been transformed into) had been omnivores or even obligate carnivores. I would cope.
An attendant advanced with a small, golden covered dish and set it on my charger. She gripped the handle at the top of the domed cover, but waited for Atenar to speak.
He barked out five short words, which Wepaten translated as, "Behold the fruits of your victory!"
The attendant whipped off the cover and backed away.
On the plate was a small morsel of roasted meat, garnished with mushrooms and a sprig of rosemary. It had a strong smell, unlike most meats I had had experience with.
I didn't hesitate. I used a tiny golden fork to pop the bit of meat into my mouth, chewed, and swallowed. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but not awful either. It had a pungent flavor and a fibrous texture.
Atenar and Wepaten traded looks. I'm not exactly proficient in reading canine facial expressions, but they didn't exactly seem happy. I was honoring their custom, so I couldn't figure out why that wouldn't be welcomed.
I smiled at them both. I wanted this first-contact to go well.
"I am unfamiliar with this," said to Wepaten. "What sort of meat is it?"
"Heart," he replied.
Eugh! The things I do for diplomacy, I thought. I really, really wish I had left it at that, but my stupid, compulsive curiosity drove me to ask, "What sort of heart?"
"Our dogs have begun to search the wrecks. It is from the highest-ranking officer we could locate."
= = =
=
A long way to go for an unpleasant meal:
( Jordanis says this sort of thing is perfectly fine if you make use of the whole yeti, and I can't disagree. 
)
Mostly Vegan
(Foul Language Warning!)
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Twilight. C'mon. You're smarter than that.
Poor Twilight. Looks like it's better not to ask what's in the foreign food you eat, lol.
Now I have an image of Ralf coming back with another small-craft. And in keeping with Twilight's naming conventions, he calls it Dog-Eared. This, of course, makes the purist in Twilight flinch, as there is nothing more sacrilegious you can do to a book than to dog-ear the corner...
Hmmm. Usually, it's the host that eats the first bite.
Ah yes. The harpies are still on the To Meet list. And this Twilight will take Celaeno’s wage slavery even worse than in canon.
I know about the humans, but now I’m wondering what else Twilight might have been changed into over the years.
But seriously, Twilight, what did you think “the fruits of your victory” meant in this context? Once again, you come to regret your hasty action.
That said, I do love the use of… Jasper Jackals, I suppose? Makes for a wonderfully striking mental image. Here’s hoping this is the worst diplomatic hiccup Twilight will face during this visit.
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Oddly enough, she really liked the squid people once she got to know them.
There's a delicate balance between "going with the flow" and thinking through a situation from every angle. and she's never hit the sweet spot—mainly because that would be boring.
Ooh... Are the gray ones Hematite Hounds? That would work!
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Oh ghodz, that's brilliant!
The comic story of the Jackals of ancient Anugypt controlling the Sun and Moon until they lost it in a revolution to he unicorns because of their abuses of power obviously doesn't work in this version of the cosmology. But I do wonder if they still might have a better understanding of the Celestial Spheres than most other civilizations.
If they do, and since they've seen the raptor set. The most likely conclusion they'll come to is that Blackmane is acting as a deniable spotter for Equestrian orbital strikes. Which is close enough to the truth to be problematic depending on what they decide to do with that information.
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Yeah, there are several of those sorts of considerations in the coming chapters. I often lament that this is written in the first-person, which denies me the ability to go into the Anubian's behind-the-scenes panic over this situation, particularly as they desperately try to project an air of strength in the face of a possibly existential threat.
Incidentally, since this is a distant colony, they could have escaped the revolution which toppled the ancient regime across the ocean, which would still jibe with comics continuity. I call it Anubia and not Anugypt because I first wrote about it before the comic came out and didn't feel like bothering to change it.
🎶Blackmane told the Storm King
"You had better listen here.
The dogs are a great nation,
So treat 'em fair and square.
Sit in on their war councils,
Don't laugh away their pride."
The Storm King didn't listen
In the desert his forces died.🎶
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Equestrian orbital strikes are one thing; but what if she's here as an agent of the mad queen of Twilight Town? 😨
At least part of the unease is exactly that lack of restraint, I assume.
"Well, they'd be highly effective if they didn't have to deal with me."
It doesn't sit well with me that Twilight doesn't so much as reprimand Ralf for threatening to blow up Nebula and potentially jeopardizing the lives of multiple crew members. For no good reason, as well - it wouldn't have made any difference to the impact but rather might have been detrimental to Twilight's ability to avert a complete catastrophe. I would expect Twilight to be understanding and show forgiveness as his intentions were good, but by all rights she should be furious.
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I feel like you’re looking at Ralf’s actions too logically. The guy was absolutely panicked and his frantic thought process was probably along the lines of “stop the magic, stop the meteor.” I mean, who would act calm when something akin to a missile was about to obliterate countless innocent people, even if done out of ignorance.
And if Twilight reprimanded Ralf for jeopardizing the crew, that’d be extremely hypocritical considering… well, the near-unwitting crime against humanity(?) she was about to commit against his kind. Ralf threatening to blow up the ship is small beans compared to Twilight’s actions - she never does anything halfway does she.
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I'm not blaming Ralf, as he doesn't really know what's going on.
Even though the circumstances were extraordinary and Twilight was shaken by what she almost did, from her perspective, she now has to deal with having a crew member who has shown himself willing to sabotage her ship and endanger her friends. I don't agree that she would see that as "small beans", considering what unreasonable lengths she's previously gone to in their defense.
Even if Twilight decides for herself to trust Ralf going forward, would the rest of the Nebulas necessarily see it the same way if she doesn't address it at all? How is she going to prevent a similar situation in the future?
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In a chapter or two there is a scene where Twilight comments on her philosophy of crime and punishment. That might help illuminate her thinking on the matter. Shrubb, you're correct in thinking that a lot of what's behind Twilight's actions is emotional reaction. She's a brilliant polymath, but she's not Spock.
BTW, the engine detonating, would have damaged a chunk of her hull, but not nearly enough to sink her. Ralf would have died, but any injuries to other crew would probably have been minor.
Gait, in this context.
Wonderful chapter!
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Oops! Thanks!
Never trust a davit. They will leave you hanging.
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