This WIP is not MLP related at all. THE FALL OF OAKENFIELD UNIVERSITY is a Prequel to Slave in Pard.
This story is rated YA
THE FALL OF OAKENFIELD UNIVERSITY
by
De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)
6101 words so far, work is incomplete
© 2018 by Glen Ten-Eyck
Writing begun 06/03/17
All rights reserved. This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.
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Sande was humming happily to herself as she worked to clean Professor Standar's office. She was mulling over his recent lecture on the pervasive nature of the magical field that only unicorns, with their horns, could control. As she worked, she looked at the big office slateboard.
She was emptying his trash into a rolling bin. She added the dust that she had collected from his shelves, books and corners by the use of magic from her horn. To help her concentrate on the carpet, where her magic was making the dust rise and scooting it into the bin, she actually looked at what Professor Standar had chalked on his board.
A bit excited by what she saw, she took a chalk and went to the empty board. She wrote neatly, “Professor, I am 3rd year student Sande. I saw your problem because I am working part time as a janitor, and was assigned to clean your office.
“I believe that the problem that you are working on will reduce more easily as a five function matrix, like so.”
Under that, she chalked his beginning mathemagic and then the steps to convert the unwieldy original expression into a matrix. Then she proceeded to transform the matrix by clear steps to a solution.
She replaced the chalk in its tray and was turning to go when she found her way blocked by the Professor himself.
Mildly he observed, “I see that you have seen fit to use my chalk board. What did you think so important that you did not clean it off when you were done?”
He ambled over and began to examine Sande's derivation and solution carefully. Turning to her he spoke with mock severity, “This solves a problem that I have been working on for three weeks! That causes me a great difficulty. I now have to completely rewrite the opening of my latest paper to be presented to the Society. I have to include you as the one who provided the complete Mathemagical proof of the whole idea!”
He broke into a grin and gave Sande a hug. Leading Sande by the hand, Professor Standar practically skipped as he lead her away from her work cleaning his office.
As she was pulled along to the next building, her dark brown mane flipping about in the breeze, she panted, “Where are we going?”
Gleefully, Professor Standar replied, “To see Professor Greenleaf! He and I have been working on this paper for weeks but could not figure out how to derive the matrix from the essential expression!”
As they were entering the cool halls of the Mathemagical Annex, Sande puffed, “I do not think that this is a good idea. Professor Greenleaf does not like me.”
Professor Standar paused just short of knocking on an office door. He turned to Sande and asked, “Why would he not like you?”
She bit her lip nervously before replying, “I was sitting in on his Theoretical Mathemagic 620 symposium. He put up the assumption that only the horn of a unicorn could tap, shape and utilize the overall Magical Field. I questioned whether other things might be able to tap or alter the Field, since it is easily detected to be stronger near groves of trees, for instance.
“He grew very angry and angrier still, when he found that I was not even enrolled in that upper division class. After that, he has tried to get me removed from the University several times.
“He found that I have no Herd Backing nor support. I pointed out that the Greenswale Herd, that I came from, was merged with the Know Nothing Herd by force. He got all my scholarships pulled. I earned enough off of one job last summer to pay for my entire third year, books and lab fees included.
“He got my other work study jobs pulled, except for this janitorial one. That freed me enough time to entertain at foal parties and play table-top strategic games. Both pay quite well. The parties I do for fees and I place bets on the games.”
In a dry voice, Professor Standar asked, “Is that all? It seems more than a little extreme.”
Quietly Sande replied, “No. At the Mathemagic 302 mid term, he gave me a separate test from the rest. Nine problems on deriving and processing matrices and one on reducing raw data from a Metastable Structure experiment. He gave only three sheets to show my work.
“Without actually grading it, he simply wrote an F on it when I handed it in. I filed a departmental appeal. Three witnesses, two of them faculty, saw him do it.
“All that I asked for in the appeal was sufficient sheets to actually show my work in detail while the appeal committee watched and to be fairly graded on what I did.”
Professor Standar, nodded slowly, “I did not know that was you. I and the whole rest of the faculty heard about it. You needed fifteen sheets to show your work. At grading, YOU had to lead the Mathemagic faculty through your methods and reasoning. They gave you an A+.
“Since Mathemagic 302 only deals with Linear Expressions, both inequalities and equalities, the Appeal Committee removed you from the class with a stipulated A+ grade and pulled you from classwork entirely.
Professor Greenleaf was furious because the rest of the department gave you a challenge degree in Mathemagic.
“What are you working on now?”
Sande straightened up proudly, “I have been expanding Horimizu's zero sum placeholder expression idea. It is really quite interesting.”
Just at that moment, the door opened and the red roan unicorn looking out, snapped, “I heard that! Why are you even here? You have been forbidden to do janitorial work in the Mathemagic building!”
Professor Standar cut in, “I brought her here because she wrote something on my slate work board that . . .”
Triumphantly, Greenleaf interrupted, “She did? Excellent! I will have her cast from the University for this affront to Faculty!”
Professor Standar said mildly, “I said nothing about an affront to Faculty. In fact, I will give you the same twenty minutes that she had in my office to duplicate what she wrote. If you cannot, I will have you withdrawn from our Active Metastable Structures paper. What she wrote took our lab derived expression, which is on your work board too, and derived a matrix, processed it to a specific solution and from it derived a general solution.
“That is what I brought her here to show you.
“I see that you still are attempting to remove her from the University because she embarrassed you. Your efforts are a Direct Violation of the University's Primary Code.”
In outrage, Professor Greenleaf demanded, “How can you even say that! I have devoted my life to the development of Mathemagic!”
Sande stood back to let the Professors squabble it out.
Standar snapped back, “And at the first serious question of the basic assumption that our horns are unique in their ability to tap and manipulate the Magic Field, instead of investigating, as LOVE OF TRUTH would require, YOU tried to silence the questioner! Some LOVE OF TRUTH!
“That test that you gave to her, as a MIDTERM in Mathemagic 302? It was rated BY YOUR DEPARTMENT as a graduate level written and oral exam! She got an A+ and was removed from Mathemagical classes with both a Bachelors and a Master's Degree!
“Last year you conspired to remove her grants and scholarships to force her to leave! Instead, she did ONE job, over the harvest break and Paid THE FULL BALANCE of her third year in advance.”
Grimly, he demanded, “Twenty minutes, Greenleaf! The matrix, processing, specific solution, and general expression. That is all the time that Sande had and she did it!
“Match her work or lose the paper.”
Sande spoke up, concern in her voice, “No, Professor Standar. That would be a mistake. Simply because I did this part, does not mean that Professor Greenleaf would not have valuable input.
“In the Library I have read everything that he has published. Aside from the single error about the unicorn's horn being the sole means of harnessing and utilizing the Magical Field, his work is excellent.”
Sour at having his part in an important academic paper saved by a mare that he detested, Professor Greenleaf invited, “Why don't you come in and show me what she has stumbled onto?
“As for her mad assertion about the magical field being manipulated by anything but the horn of a unicorn, I have never seen any proof of it!”
Sande remarked casually, “After we have dealt with this expression, I will give you a free demonstration of a non horn initiated magical field accumulation.”
Gesturing at an empty slate board, she said, “With your permission?”
Growling under his breath, Professor Greenleaf snarled, “Go ahead! Show me what we have been missing!”
Nodding, Sande rewrote the basic expression with one more factor and began to reduce it into the matrix.
Greenleaf slapped the chalk from Sande's hand, pronouncing triumphantly, “This is garbage! The expression that you added works out to ZERO! It makes no difference!”
Sande gave him a withering glare and snapped, “Didn't the reprimand for PREGRADING my midterm in Mathemagic 302 teach you ANYTHING?
“In the SPECIAL CASE of THIS METASTABLE STATE, it is ZERO ONLY AFTER metastability is achieved. That is when all the measurements were made. That's why it was missed.” She turned back to the board and chose another piece of chalk to finish creating the matrix.
As she was processing the matrix, Professor Greenleaf's keenly watching eyes flew open! He grabbed a piece of chalk of his own!
Checking against Sande's matrix and her restatement of the original expression, he began to sketch a graph of his own. It started at zero and rose in an asymptotic curve to positive three, dropped to negative three and rose following a similar curve up to zero, where it repeated itself.
He then wrote out the solution to Sande's matrix and produced the generalized expression. He put his chalk down before Sande did and pronounced, “I not only beat her time, Standar, I have discovered a repeating function in the magical field that will be worth an entire paper by itself!”
Without pausing her work, Sande pointed to Greenleaf's chalk board and stated, “In ANY mathemagic class, that would be marked as a failure.
“You failed to show any of your work. Not the derivation of the graph points, not the matrix processing, nor the three steps from the specific solution to the generalized one.
“Besides, since I did get a departmentally given advanced degree out of your improperly administered and graded Mathemagic 302 midterm, I have the right to submit papers for peer review. MY paper covering that function and the other five revealed in examining data from other Metastability experiments is already in peer review.
“If you published that, when a faculty witness saw you lifting it out of my demonstration work, I would be forced to charge you with plagiarism.”
She put down her chalk and turned to Professor Standar and pointed out, “I did say that it would be a mistake to remove him from your paper. As you can see from what he has done here, as soon as he had a prompt in the correct direction, he is both brilliant and insightful in Mathemagical analysis.
“It is a pity that he has had to be given a formal Board of Deans Order of Non Interference about having any further contact with me academically or financially. That is why he is being kept from my papers until they are released.”
Reaching across Greenleaf's desk, Sande picked up a sheet of paper and a quill. Her eyes widened just a little. She glanced away from the desk top and began to draw a small design near one corner of the paper.
“This part is a trigger for the demonstration that I promised you, Professor Greenleaf. The rest of the design will be the Accumulator for the Magical Field, with no horn needed to create it or use it. She finished her drawing, bending the corners of the paper up over the design, Sande tore a small rip through the trigger part.
She sailed the folded paper toward the center of the room. With a green flash of released magical field, a loud and surprising POP! the paper suddenly burst apart into a fountain of small confetti! Only tiny fragments of shredded paper drifted to the floor.
While the others were both staring at the surprising result of Sande's demonstration, she snatched two bundles of papers from Geenleaf's desk and put them into her large waist pouch.
She calmly steered Standar out of Greenleaf's office while he was espostulating, “You promised to give me that demonstration! I must have a sheet with the design on it! You promised!”
Over her shoulder, Sande retorted, “I promised a demonstration of Magical Field Accumulation without the use of a horn! Not to show you how it was done! You got to see it happen! Now you know that it can happen! Your axiom about the unicorn's horn is PROVED wrong!”
Outside, Sande dragged Professor Standar to the office of the Dean of Schools of the University. Inside, she greeted the mare at the desk with, “Hi, Vanara! Do you have a file copy of the Greenleaf Academic Restriction notice with his signature? I need it and I need to see the Dean as soon as possible!” She slapped a short pile of paper on the counter.
Vanara turned to a file cabinet and extracted the document before saying, “What is happening, Sande? Oh! I see that you have the printing office galley proofs for your latest paper! Have you finished the markup yet?”
Grimly, Sande replied, “I did not get them from the printing office. They were intercepted and being improperly marked up by Professor Greenleaf. Along with the markup, he was writing a rebuttal, part of which claims my expansion of Horimizu's zero sum placeholder expression. I have it, too.”
Vanara reached across the counter and took the galley proofs to examine. She held out a hand for the rebuttal paper and examined it.
She signaled one of the waiting student office runners.
Grim of voice, Vanara instructed, “Get the Printing Office sign out log for . . .” she examined the galley proof and finished, “Junnea fourth, this year. Bring it directly to the office of Dean of Schools Honner.”
The runner simply repeated, “Galley sign out log for Junnea fourth, Dean Honner's office, yes Mam!” He left at once.
Vanara left her desk and went to a door down the hallway that her counter blocked access to. There was a swift but quiet conversation. Vanara gestured for both of them to come to the office.
As they were seating themselves, Sande noticed the headline of a newspaper hanging over the desk of Dean Honner. It proclaimed, “Know Nothing Herd Burns Leafhome University!”
She commented to Professor Standar, “See that? It means that we are the last college or university left between the Southern Sea and the Skywall Mountains.”
Standar replied, “I know. The Know Nothings tried to use their 'common sense' thinking to guide farming in the nation of South Plains. It has resulted in a massive crop failure and much spoilage of what was harvested. Grains of all sorts were especially hard hit.”
Sande whistled softly. “They were only just recovering from that drought. This crop failure will cause a flood of refugees from that whole area. Where will they go?”
Dean Honner shrugged, “Disaffected unicorn refugees have been making their way through the only known pass in the Skywall for over twenty years, now. There is supposed to be a rich plain on the other side, called the Green Sea. I expect that many of them will go there.”
Sande pointed out, “Perhaps not all that many. If reports are to be believed, that Green Sea colony has been at war for nearly five years with a confederation of tigers and leopards called Pard. Even if I was hungry, I am not sure that I would want to go to some place where I might get eaten!”
Dean Honner nodded. “I do understand what you are saying, Sande. Unfortunately, that is not all the story. The Green Sea colony is also sending several tonnes a month of top quality fodders back through the pass.”
Sande quietly touched her lips before saying, “Suddenly I can see the motivation for starving herds to take that risk.”
Vanara re entered the room and placed a folder on Dean Honner's desk. As she was leaving, Professor Greenleaf barged into the room, pushing her out of his way!
Ignoring all else, Greenleaf planted both hands on Dean Honner's desk and demanded, “You must dismiss that MARE, Sande, at once! She entered my office, where she has no right at all, and she STOLE important papers from my desk!”
Professor Standar interrupted Greenleaf's tirade dryly with, “Actually, Professor, that is WHY we are having this meeting with Dean Honner. It appears that . . .”
Greenleaf rounded on Standar, in the process seeing Sande for the first time. “What is that MARE doing here? She stole papers from my desk! She was not even supposed to be in the Mathemagic Building at all!”
Professor Standar pointed out calmly, “She is filing a formal complaint against you, Professor Greenleaf. The charges are violation of the University's restriction on contact with Sande or pre-publication access to her papers or other intellectual works or property.
“Speaking of theft, you took the galley proofs of her paper expanding Horimizu's zero sum placeholder expression. You were re writing it to make it appear to be intellectual garbage while claiming her insights and discovery as your own in a 'rebuttal' paper.”
“I would never stoop so low! She is a mere mare and a only a third year student, besides! As such, she has no right to lofty thought! As a student, she cannot properly publish papers in any case!”
Dean Honner interrupted dryly, “Greenleaf! The reason that THIS third year student CAN publish papers is those Bachelors and Masters degrees that she won from fair judging of her midterm exam given by YOU, last term.
“The brilliant work on those fifteen pages of Mathemagic that she needed to answer your nine questions, two of which were classical unsolved conjectures, BECAME her first paper, and YOU KNOW IT! Since then, she has already published two more papers and had the final peer reviews done and galley proofs prepared for her FOURTH paper, the one that you directly stole from the Printing Office.”
Dean Honner flipped open the file that Vanara had given him. Greenleaf blanched as he recognized the contents of the file. It was the Printing Office's Sign Out Log for Junea Fourth and under it were several standard Witness to Conflict forms.
Spreading out the incriminating evidence, Dean Honner continued, “Your inability to recognize her obvious intellectual capacity AND your continued efforts to have her removed from the University alone would have caused what I am now forced to do. Add to those infractions, your direct violation of the Board of Deans order of Non Interference by this outrageous attempt to plagiarize her work and discredit her, force me to enforce the Non Interference Order's penalty clause.
“Professor Greenleaf, your tenure at Oakenfield University is terminated! One more infraction and you will be removed from the faculty. Am I clear?”
Dean Honner gave Professor Greenleaf a red sheet of warning. He added, “After this egregious violation of the University's trust, you may not even publish comments or letters regarding ANY of Sande's work.
“Please leave my office. If I have to call you back, it will be to sever you from the University.”
The furious Greenleaf slammed the door on his way out.
Dean Honner shook his head at Greenleaf's behavior. Then his distinguished white furred muzzle broke into a smile and he asked, “Sande, are you going to be at the Horn and Hog for War Game Night tonight?”
She nodded, her horn bobbing happily as she replied, “I am looking forward to it, Sir. You give me a real challenge.”
Standar looked up at the framed medals and Wide Plains general rank badges on Honner's wall and said skeptically, “How often can you win against a general of Honner's experience?”
It was Honner who suggested, “Why not come and see for yourself? If I am lucky, I win two out of five games with her. Sande really keeps me sharp.”
That afternoon, Professor Standar accompanied Sande down the well shaded cobbled road to the village of Oaken Woods. The many farms surrounding Oaken Woods showed clearly the beneficial effect of being close to the famous University. The fields and orchards were not only well tended, they were filled with the unique and highly productive strains of fruits and grain provided by the Agricultural School. To his pleasant surprise, he saw the farmers using metastable structures in the harvesting of hay and grain.
As the muscular field mares swung their scythes to fell the crops, the metastable structures attached to the scythes gathered it into shocks and bound it with strings of twisted grass stalks. On the farms, even the stallions were working to get the crops into the barns. They were pulling big farm wagons that were being loaded by stallions using different metastable magic structures attached to the wagons. Shocks to be loaded were simply placed into the structure, which lifted it and placed it in the wagon.
Pleased at seeing his theoretical work being put to practical uses, Professor Standar mused, “I did not know that the school had released any of my work for general uses.”
Sande nodded as she strode ahead. Looking back, she replied, “This is an experiment by the Agriculture School and authorized by Dean Honner. If it is as successful as it appears to be, it will be put into general use next year. It should earn both the University and you some handsome royalties.”
“I see. How stable are the structures that they are using?”
Sande grinned as she stated, “They only last about three to four hours. Re setting them takes around twenty minutes, which gives the workers a welcome break. At the moment, it looks like your work has improved harvest efficiency by about 20 to 30 percent.”
By then, they had passed into the village proper. Sande guided them around several turns to a substantial half timbered building with large multi pane windows in front. The sign out front swinging in the breeze proclaimed it to be THE HORN AND HOG.
Inside, the main room was only lightly crowded but it was filled with the beery scent of fermented locoweed. The lanterns and iron candle candle sconces cast a reasonable amount of light. It was late enough that the windows contributed almost none. There were soot trails up the walls above the wrought iron candle sconces. The floor was flaked bark, comfortable underhoof.
They crossed the room, dodging around tables where many disreputable looking unicorns were busy losing what money they had in assorted card and dice games. A few were winning. Not many. Mares in skimpy attire were lacing their way through the press of customers, carrying large trays filled with drinks or dishes of food.
Sande led them to a door and held it open for professor Standar. The back room was far quieter. Many unicorns, both mare and stallion, were standing around five tables. A sixth table was in use. A large bookshelf next to it had holes where volumes now on the table were being consulted and pages of notes being taken.
Dean Honner looked up with a big smile. “Sande! We were waiting for you! The vote went to the Tomb River Campaign. We were just setting up the Crane Creek battle to kick things off! Which side will you take?”
Without hesitation, Sande replied, “South Plains! We beat them so bad in that one that fighting it from their side will be fun! What do I have to work with, General?”
Dean Honner commented to Professor Standar, “The kids know that I was a General in this very war, so the whole club calls me General.”
He handed Sande a sheaf of papers. “Here are your troops and disposition at the start of hostilities. You will find that we actually copied captured scouting reports for you too.”
Sande nodded, while leafing through the data. Breaking into a grin, she put four gold coins in a tray beside one of the game tables. She announced, “Crane Creek table ante is four gold! Pick your staff General and ante up!”
Coins hit the tray. The General and three others took the Wide Plains Republic side of the table. Sande took a wand like pointer and reached into the table top which was a complete reproduction of the Crane Creek battlefield and surrounding area projected by controlled magic. She began to use it to array her forces, which were seriously outnumbered. As he walked about the table, Professor Standar realized just how subtle its design was. From each side, all that could be seen of the opposition was what the field command saw from their place in the old battle or wherever they placed command and scouting for this re fighting of it.
He overheard the General muttering to his three subordinates, “Just as I suspected, she is pulling a fast one on us. I can only see about half of what I saw in real life when I fought this battle! We need scouts out yesterday! Move it!”
One of his assistants muttered back, “I am working on it already. When she said that it would be fun to fight from the South Plains side, I knew that she already had the fix in!”
One muttered, “Found them, I think. That woods that is supposed to be too boggy to get a force through? Three scouts looking it over have vanished.”
The General nodded sagely, “Have to wonder how she got them there, if she did. Probe it in force with a platoon. See what sort of responses we get. Hold the main force in position.”
As he watched the action unfolding, Standar realized that this game was like none that he had seen before. It was not turn based. Both sides were moving simultaneously.
The next report was, “Sir! The platoon was driven off by aimed archery and crossbow fire. The enemy is staying hidden in the forest for now.”
The General gave a satisfied snort. “Crafty of her. Leave a force sufficient to deal with the reserves that she put out for us to see and hit the forest hard. We want to draw her out to better fighting ground if we can.”
As the Wide Plains Republic forces started to strike the boggy forest, Sande's “reserves” began to charge the superior force in front of them. Every copse or thicket that they passed yielded up more disciplined war mares, augmenting the charging army!
They did not simply outnumber the now defending force, they suddenly began a leap frog advance. The pausing forces taking the time to fire an archery barrage into the defenders before rejoining the advance.
By the time that it came to spear and sword, the defenders were severely reduced and quickly cut to pieces! Sande's attack then pivoted and charged the main Wide Plains force from the rear!
The General was swearing in admiration as the trap closed on his troops. They were being forced into the boggy forest and it WAS too swampy for them to hold cohesion as a force.
The Wide Plains Republic had to raise the white flag.
A cheerfully smiling Sande scooped up the table ante and collected a number of side bets as well.
The next battle and the one after that all fell to Sande's skill at warfare.
The golden coins of the Wide Plains Republic antes fell into Sande's purse! She took not only the table antes, she collected side bets in profusion.
The club members were conferring with the General and had three military histories out on a working table. Sande looked over their shoulders and exclaimed, “The Hardrock Chasm Stand! That is one of the best classical battles. The Wide Plains Republic army was outnumbered over one hundred to one! In spite of that they held off South Plains for six days, until reinforcements could arrive and drive South Plains back!”
The General looked up from his books and asked skeptically, “I presume that you have had some thoughts on the battle? Nobody has ever held any simulation where South Plains could get through the Wide Plains Republic position!”
Sande batted her eyelashes at him and retorted, “Finally, a chance for you recover your gold! I mean, I do have South Plains for the battle. This battle will wrap up the Tomb River campaign.”
One of the General's staff commented, “Sande has already stood military history up on its horn. All that I can say is that I think that she must have something nasty up her sleeve!”
Mildly, the General replied, “She always does. Even when she loses, it is usually a disaster for the winning side.”
He set up his troops in the classical and time tested way, camped just in front of the Hardrock Chasm, with the small river to his left. Tall cliffs spread out for twenty miles on each side of the chasm, creating a solid barrier to the South Plains army.
From his camp, the General's forces could strike the South Plains forces in the rear if they tried to bypass the barrier. If South Plains tried a direct attack, all that the Highland Republic had to do was retreat into the chasm itself and South Plain's greater numbers were nullified.
Sande advanced her forces in the classical way, directly out of the histories. She encamped by a small woods. While some troops were cutting firewood, she sent emissaries to request the surrender of the Highland Republic. That was refused, of course.
That afternoon of battle table time, Sande sent a substantial force against the General's troops. She had a strong center that forced battle. From each side, parallel to the cliff faces pincher forces advanced, trying to cut the General's army off from retreating into the Hardrock Chasm.
Just as in history, the ploy failed and the Republic army withdrew into the steep sided and very narrow cleft.
Sande's troops withdrew to their camp, leaving only a few platoons to keep the General bottled up. They had a leisurely meal and replaced the guarding platoons so that they could eat. She was keeping her wood cutters busy apparently making firewood to last out the siege.
On the second battle table day of the battle, Sande advanced the results of her woodcutter's labor. Three catapults. They fired sacks of smaller stones that burst on hitting! The rupturing bags scattered a deadly spray of stones from fist sized up to melon sized chunks through the General's middle ranks! Worse, they then fired at the opening of the chasm, bottling the General's troops, preventing them from escaping the deadly hail of stones, by fleeing deeper in the declivity. She mopped up the remains of his leading forces and advanced into the defile, foot leading, catapults following. As swiftly as her advance made contact with the General's now retreating troops, more catapult shots leapfrogged over them to cut a small number off from aid while they they were reduced. The catapults did not even have to aim much. Hitting a wall of stone simply burst the bag of rocks earlier and blasted them down from above!
Helplessly watching his army dwindle before his eyes, the General quietly reached over to the table ante tray and gallantly handed it over to Sande. He offered, “Brilliantly done, Sande!”
Sande, eyes sparkling with glee, went through the crowd collecting her side bets!
An unfamiliar figure entered the room and scanned the crowd before homing in on Sande. He made the mistake of grabbing her shoulder as he declared, “I demand Herd Rights! You have to mate with me and give me half of that gold you collected tonight!”
Sande rolled in under his grip, striking up along his extended arm, directly into his armpit. Her strike carried enough force that it lifted him off his hooves and laid him full length on the floor!
Sande hit him with both knees in his gut, driving the wind from him. Her right hand slapped the bottom of her shoulder bag and came away with a big combat knife! She held it before his unbelieving eyes so that he could not mistake what it was before she plunged it into his throat!
Conversationally she stated, “If you lie very still, you will live. If I slash even a little to right or left, you will die.
“You cannot claim herd rights on me. I am a herdless mare. My herd was Greenswale. Greenswale was forcably absorbed by the Know Nothing herd who then declared Greenswale to be extinct. There is no Greenswale herd, so you have no Herd Rights on me.
“If your Stallion Need is great enough that it will not be denied, speak to either Wilton or Lanni behind the bar. One of their serving mares will sell you an hour or a night, depending on how much you pay.
“You have nothing more to say to me at all. Speak another word to me and you die. Now, either go away or go to the bar.”
Sande withdrew the knife and backed away from the fallen stallion, maintaining a combat guard with her knife. He got to his hooves, pressing one hand to the cut in his throat, and bolted for the safety of the night.
Sande turned to the shocked club and shrugged. “I know that most mares will yield Herd Rights to just about any stallion in Need. Herd Law is clear, though. Only Herd Stallions can demand Herd Rights of a mare. Other Stallions can ask for Herd Rights but no mare not of their herd is obligated to give them.
“My herd was Greeswale. They were forcibly absorbed by the Know Nothing herd and declared extinct as a herd. He was a scout from the Know Nothing herd. I don't like them because of what they did to my herd. I don't have to mate with them and I WON'T.”
Sande's horn lit up as she used its magic to straighten up the room where the stallion had fallen. She extended a hand to the General and suggested, “General, we need to end this meeting. He was scouting for the Know Nothing Herd. We have to get back to the University and begin preparing our defenses.
“Oakenfield is the last university or college left. If we fall, all of Wide Plains Republic will follow South Plains into an intellectual and physical disaster. We have the last major library. All of our classical literature and research work is in it. We are the last place where magic is being studied scientifically. Our Agricultural School is vital too.
“We have to save as much of it as possible.”
The General gave a sad look around the War Game Club and nodded. “You are right, Sande. I had hoped to never have to fight a real battle again. It is not to be. Anyone here who is willing to fight to save the University, follow us. We are going back to the school.”
Sande was pleasantly surprised to find that nearly all of the rough stallions and mares from the Horn and Hog were following. She could hear much of their muttering, “School might be out of my league but those new higher yield crops sure ain't. Showed us how to use our magic in a whole new way this year at harvest. Got the whole crop in days earlier than the old ways. That school been a godsend to us.”
They were several hundred followers strong by the time that they reached the University.