Title:           House of Horses (Part 8)
Author:          InstantCoffee
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/QQVfa2K4
First Edit:      Monday 22nd of December 2014 11:30:05 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Saturday 6th of February 2016 10:35:56 PM CDT

>Sandy.
>That's the one word you'd use to describe this godforsaken kingdom. Sand as far as the eye can see. Sandy buildings, sandy horses. Heck, even the sand is sandier than most sand you've encountered. The heat doesn't help much, either. Why the original founders of this place decided to stop here and settle is beyond you. The historical archives say it was because it was prime real estate for trading salt and gems, and that as business increased, the complacent Saddle Arabians eventually decided to settle. But you know that historical textbooks can only be so factually accurate. No one insane enough to take on the painstaking task of creating an official historical record would want to put his nation in too much of a bad light. He might as well say that his ancestors were originally angels from the heavens with a mission from their creator to cultivate the earth and multiply, and schoolchildren generations later would devour those myths up faster than a princess eats her cake.
>Right now you're in a courtroom, or at least you think it's supposed to be one. This building in particular is made of stone. It's a royal building, no surprise. But even so, the place is poorly maintained and sand has still managed to find a way inside. You hope to yourself that the beds are cleaner than this mess.
>You're sitting at the far end of a long table with Saddle Arabian court members lined up on either side, letting the wine flow freely as they share gossip and jest with one another. Their physiologies are quite different from the typical Canterlot snob. If anything, they have a closer resemblance to the horses you were familiar with back at Earth. Perhaps they are also just as intelligent.
>At the far end of the table opposite you sits the current king, or at least that what the citizens call him and he calls himself. King Dune. A dark brown, proud looking colt wearing a heavily embroidered chest piece. A pair of mares sat by his side, feeding him various fruits from the table, giggling all the while. The scene is so cliche that you feel like throwing up. If one is going to flaunt his power like a peacock in mating season, at least do it in a memorable, original fashion.
>And so you sit there, occasionally drinking from your glass, your practiced fake smile plastered on your face, laughing at jokes you don't understand and the ones you do but don't find at all humorous. You're wasting your time here. You know that, and Celestia knows that. The sooner you can leave, the better.
>The sound of a hoof hitting the wooden table causes the general commotion to calm down, and the King speaks up in his thick accent.
>"Today we have a very special guest," he says, his voice booming. "Prince Anonymous has graced us with his presence. Together, we are finally going to build the bridge that will help Saddle Arabia grow stronger than ever!"
>Heavy applause and cheers come from the unruly subjects. You nod your head in response.
"It is my honor to be here, Your Highness. To be honest, it's rather refreshing to dine with those who don't care too much about following nitpicky culinary etiquette."
>The subjects emit another cheer of approval, this time a little more genuine. Yep. You still know how to win a crowd.
>King Dune laughs heartily.
>"Canterlot protocol can be very tiring, yes? Do not worry, my friend. Tonight, we will feast like no one has done before!"
>Sure. It's not like anyone else has said that before.
>"Bring forth the meals!"
>The main doors open, and a dozen or so servants enter with various dishes on their heads, balancing them in expert fashion.
>Oh, how you wish you were back at home, doing anything but this. You wonder how much work Finch got done with the money trail. Hopefully she's made some good progress by now.
>"Someone kill me now. This is impossible," she groans aloud to no one in particular over in your office, far away from your location. She crumples up a paper ball and throws it into an overflowing bin full of similar balls. Math equations and graphs are scribbled across a chalkboard she brought into the room earlier that day. She rests her head on her hooves, closing her tired eyes in weary frustration.
>"I really should have paid attention in economics."
 
>It's late into the afternoon during the first stage of the negotiations. You're in a different room now, sitting in a chair across from the King and his subjects. And what a surprise. There's sand here, too.
"Well," you begin as you look over the documents on the desk in front of you. "The arrangements are nearly done, so we should be finished by the end of today. As said here, we'll cover one quarter of the bridge's cost and give your area of domain freedom from tariffs for goods moved from here to Canterlot for the duration of exactly one third of the year. Additionally, th--"
>"Uh, excuse me, Prince Anonymous."
>You look up from your papers.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
>King Dune rubs his beard, a quizzical look on his face.
>"How much of the cost will Canterlot cover?"
"One quarter, Your Highness."
>"And how much will we have to pay?"
>Anyone who graduated from elementary school would be able to answer that question.
"Three quarters."
>The King shakes his head in disapproval, an apologetic smile on his face.
>"I am sorry, Prince Anonymous. But that cannot do."
>You raise an eyebrow in response.
"But these are the terms you agreed to."
>"Yes, but I'm afraid that I've changed my mind. Three quarters is too much."
>Fantastic, he's one of those kings. Can't make up his mind even if there was only one option to choose from. Very well, this shouldn't be too much of an issue to solve. Hopefully.
"But the increase in trade and the temporary hold on tariffs usually imposed on Saddle Arabia will greatly boost your economy in the long run. It'll help you a lot more than it'll help us."
>"I'm most certain you are absolutely correct, Prince Anonymous. However, three quarters is still too much."
>His subjects nod their heads in agreement. Saddle Arabians have always been notorious for their bartering. You can't keep count of all the stories you've heard regarding Saddle Arabian tourists arguing every single price tag when they visit a more civilized location. They're almost as stingy as the bankers from the Frozen North. Almost.
"Very well. How about we cover one third of the cost?"
>"Still won't be enough."
"With all due respect, Your Highness, this bridge is an act of friendship between Canterlot and Saddle Arabia. At least that's how we Canterlites regard it. We could build a more profitable bridge elsewhere for a fraction of the cost, but we chose you because we've had a good relationship for centuries."
>"And I appreciate that you would provide us with such a gesture. But we cannot meet these demands."
>You're starting to get a little irked, you admit. Why exactly did Canterlot maintain its relations with this desolate place for this long? The gold bubble burst long ago, and the costs and profits in staying on good terms with Saddle Arabia cancel each other out most of the time nowadays. Was friendship really that important to the Princesses? If so, then Equestrian politics can be truly impossible to understand at times. Back on Earth, the moment someone stopped being useful, he was left out to die. Was it cruel? Yes. Was it necessary? Perhaps.
"Unfortunately, our reserves are a bit restricted at the moment. I'm afraid one third is as high as we can go. However, we could do one quarter and extend the grace period with the tariff--"
>"Still not enough, Prince Anonymous."
>Of course it's not enough. Even everything wouldn't be enough for that deluded King. Does he honestly think that Canterlot's going to bend over and let him have his way with her as if she's some cheap whore going through colts for 2 bits a piece? You have little patience for those who think so highly of themselves when they're not much more than fats rats feasting on refuse.
>Gathering your papers, you stand up.
"Then I'm afraid today's session is not going to bear much fruit. Perhaps we'll find more agreeable terms later, Your Highness."
>King Dune only smiles as you bow and leave, escorted by your guards.
>"Let us hope so, Prince Anonymous. I look forward to what you will offer then."
>His voice echoes through the vast hall as you head towards your guest quarters, silently seething with frustration. You have to close this deal today if you want to get back to Canterlot as soon as possible. Tonight will be your last chance at doing so. You better think of something, and quickly.
 
>The sun is starting to set over the horizon as you look through your documents forwards and backwards, trying to find a way to satiate 'King' Dune. It just doesn't make sense. How could someone blow off such good terms? Does he not understand how beneficial it would be to just stick with what he agreed to before? Has he lost his mind?
>You sigh as you pinch the bridge of your nose and lean back in your seat. Thankfully, there's no sand here. At least there's that. Stupid sand horses and their sand.
>Once again, you go over the numbers. You can't offer much more than a third of the cost. The fact that you're agreeing to share more of the expenses is bad enough. If you split it any further, then you're definitely going to lose face. If only you could control the King somehow...
>Control the King.
>You don't have any power over him, but what if someone else did? Someone who didn't want the negotiations to go through, who has little to lose and more to gain. Someone like...
>Opening one of your bags, you pull out a record of past negotiations between Canterlot and Saddle Arabia and open the book to the first chapter.
>Nothing much here. It's just old historical stuff that no one cares about. Perhaps something more modern.
>Looking through the pile of books, you find a more recent addition to the collection and look through the chapters. Who's been in most of these negotiations? Mostly diplomats, no surprise. But they have nothing to gain by failing their basic duties. They can't be it. You're looking for a certain someone with a horn and wings.
>However, after skimming through the book, you can't find any mention of any of the Princesses. They never attended these sort of negotiations.
>Think, Anon, think. Perhaps you should look elsewhere.
>Pulling out a history book of recent events in the area, you turn to the chapter about King Dune. He used to be a lowly court official, but one day the King at the time fell ill and soon passed. His son was to be crowned King, but turned it down for unknown reasons. Then an official report came forth saying that after some investigating, Dune did in fact have a relation to the throne, and was next in line to be King if there was no one else. There was even a nice little family tree to go with it. Some questioned the validity of these reports, but were soon silenced. Not too eye-catching, as there have been worse successions. Not surprisingly, King Dune's reign consequently started with controversy, but it eventually faded away when Saddle Arabia's economy recovered from its recession. Much of his success has been attributed to Saddle Arabia's improved trading relationship with, wait for it, Canterlot. Before, Canterlot was only passive ally. After he became King, he somehow convinced Canterlot to actively invest in his kingdom, or at least that's what the book says.
>But was it really him?
>You pull up another book of historical photos and other artworks of important moments in Saddle Arabian history. Let's see. A depiction of the first founders, the crowning of the first king, the death of the first king, the assassination of the fifth, the public sodomy and beheading of the tenth. Nothing unusually grim. Such is the lifestyle of those who seek power. But perhaps without all the sodomy. Then again, nothing says fuck the King more than actually fucking him in the ass.
>Ah, here we are. The coronation of King Dune.
>You scan the photo looking for a familiar face. There is a lot of royalty in this photo, but standing out amongst them in her white coat and flowing mane is none other than Princess Celestia herself.
>Looking through past coronations, you look for Celestia again. She's in most of them as well, but is more in the background. However, in King Dune's photo, she's closer to the front, which unofficially is where you place your closest allies or friends. She's smiling in this photo. Nothing strange about that, but even in her countless years of experience as a ruler, she couldn't hide the faintest trace of her real sentiments in this candid photo. You missed it the first time you looked through this photo. That's the same smile you had when Twilight left after telling you about your promotion to Head Chair. It's the smile chess players have when everything is working in their favor. It's the smile one would have after turning a pawn into a queen, or in this case, a king.
>Princess Celestia made Dune a king, and he's been working for her ever since in exchange for some of Canterlot's support.
>You sit back and repeat that last thought as it sets in. It's a bit of a stretch, but all the pieces fit together. The meeting earlier today, the history, the photos...You wouldn't have noticed it unless you were looking for it.
>Celestia didn't send you away not just to keep you out of Canterlot. She sent you here to fail the negotiations. It was a trap the entire time, and you waltzed right into it.
>Wow, Anonymous. You're a murderer, a prince, and now a conspiracy theorist. It's time for you to add that to your resume and put on your tinfoil hat.
>But first, you have a king to meet.
>A guard calls out to you from the other side of the door.
>"Your Highness? The King invites you over to dinner."
"I'll be right there. Just give me a few minutes."
>You now know what to do. Hopefully the King has more sense than he does loyalty.
 
>You are Finch.
>And you are getting nowhere with finding out who's behind the donation that cost Anon the bill. These sort of matters were never your strong suit. Organize a schedule? No problem. Draft legislation? Sure thing. Unmasking an unknown donor who obviously wants to stay hidden? You'd have better luck trying to convince Celestia to dye her coat rainbow. Then again, who knows? Maybe she'd be into that sort of thing.
>It is fairly obvious that at this rate you'd die before solving this. Might as well go to your last resort. You really don't want to have to do this. It risks exposure. But you don't feel that you have much of a choice if you want to get this done.
>A half hour later, you find yourself outside Iceberg's door. His secretary just entered the room to announce your arrival.
>She soon exits and lets you in. Iceberg is sitting at his desk, neat stacks of papers on either side of him. His complexion brightens at the sight of you.
>"Ah, Finch. So good to see you. Please have a seat."
"Thanks, Mr. Head Chair."
>"Please, call me Iceberg."
"Thanks, Iceberg. Looks like you've got quite a lot of work to do."
>He takes off his glasses and sighs.
>"Yeah. This budget isn't going to balance itself. With all that's been going on recently, it's been pretty difficult to get all the numbers aligned. I hope that it won't be this way for the next budget."
"Trust me, it probably won't. You just drew a bad straw is all."
>He chuckles a bit.
>"Probably. But it's worth getting this spot. I'm grateful that Prince Anonymous entrusted me with his position. Anyways, what can I do for you?"
>You pull out a folder and hand it to him. He opens it, looking over the contents.
>"This...is a donation to the Military Department. And a rather hefty one at that. But why?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out."
>"No, I mean why do you want to know who the donor's identity? Whoever he is, he probably wants to stay hidden for a reason. Maybe it's best that we respect his wishes and keep it that way."
"We have reasons to believe that he or she gave that money to pull strings in the Court."
>"Or is it because you want to know why you lost the bill?"
"I know it seems that way, but the implications this has should be disturbing to everyone. This is bribery we're talking about."
>"And that is most regrettable. But such matters should be reported to the ethics committee. They handle cases like this. Getting involved in this sort of thing puts us at risk. Why would Prince Anonymous want to do this under the table?"
>Not exactly eager to cooperate, it seems.
"He has his reasons, and I'm certain that his intentions are good, even if it means skirting around a gray area. I'm only here to carry out his requests."
>He scoffs and rolls his eyes.
>"That's not true."
>You can't help but tilt your head a bit.
"I'm sorry?"
>"You're only here to carry out his requests? Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"
"What exactly do you mean?"
>"Why you?"
"Because I'm his secretary?"
>"No no no. Why you in particular? Why did he keep only you as his personal aid? Historically, whenever a princess took the throne, sometimes they hired a new, more qualified secretary who is better suited for the role. Other times they got some more to help spread the load."
"Anonymous isn't a princess."
>"Don't avoid the point I'm trying to make here."
>He leans forward in his desk.
>"But he kept you, and only you. And the implications that has is ever so interesting. I'm curious as to why that is."
"We...work really well together."
>"Is that it?"
>His eyes bore into your own, his gaze unfaltering. You're starting to get uncomfortable, shifting a bit in your seat.
"And I'm damn good at my job," you reply with shaky confidence, leaning forward in your chair, your face only inches from his. "Anonymous was just lucky enough to get me."
>After a few tense seconds of silence, Iceberg's serious expression breaks, his sudden laughter filling the air. At this point you don't really know how to respond.
>"I'm just pulling your leg, Finch," he lets out while trying to contain himself.
>You're too shocked to say anything, and he notices.
>"Come on. I've had a rough day today and I needed someone to mess with. If it wasn't you then it was going to be Star Shine right outside. I sincerely apologize."
>You manage to recover yourself, a smile once again on your face.
"It's quite alright. Everyone needs a good laugh now and then."
>"True, true. But it is interesting, though?"
"What?"
>"How you call him only 'Anonymous.'"
>Shit. Did you really forget to use his formal title?
"He...prefers that I don't call him 'Prince.' Turned into a habit, I suppose."
>He gives you a warm smile.
>"Makes sense."
>Why were you here again? Oh, right. Is Iceberg intentionally trying to avoid the subject?
"So back to the donation. We need to know where it came from. Will you help us or not?"
>Iceberg's complexion darkens once again.
>"I don't know, Finch. This is a very thin line we're walking here. What do I have to gain from this?"
"A sense of justice?"
>"That's implying that what we're doing is right."
"But it is."
>"To you, maybe."
>You think for a few moments.
"Well, in a way, you do owe Anonymous."
>Iceberg goes silent for a few moments.
>"I told him that by giving me this position, I didn't owe him anything. I was hoping that he'd respect what I said."
"He does. This isn't coming from him. It's coming from me. And besides, just because you say something doesn't mean it's true. Surely you learned that in kindergarten."
>"Never went to kindergarten. The first school I went to was a university."
"You must be very smart."
>"Or I had a really good personal tutor. Being a banker has its privileges."
"But that is beside the point," you state firmly, trying to prevent the conversation from going off track again. "Whether you like it or not, you owe him a favor. I know you're not uncomfortable with it, and I can respect that, but this is a way you could say thanks."
>"And if I refuse?"
"Then perhaps you are more moral than you are wise."
>"One would consider that to be a good thing."
"This is Canterlot. It's not a good thing and we both know that."
>Iceberg taps his hooves together in thought.
>"Very well. I will help you this once. But if this ever gets out, I will say that Prince Anonymous forced me to do it and that I was against it the entire time."
>You rise from your seat.
"That's all I needed to hear. Thank you. Let me know if you find anything."
>He gives you a nod as you leave the room and enter the hallway. It's definitely a risk getting Iceberg involved in this, but to be honest, he's the best shot you have at solving this. Hopefully Anon won't be too disappointed.
>Star Shine enters Iceberg's office soon after you leave.
>"What'd she want?"
>He holds up the folder you gave him.
>"Money is flowing to a place where it shouldn't go."
>"Doesn't that happen all the time?"
>"Yes, but this time our good friend Prince Anonymous seems to have a personal vendetta against this particular donor."
>"Who?"
>"Isn't that the million bit question."
>"What do you think?"
>"I think," he says as he hands her the folder. "Things are about to get very, very interesting."