The last remnants of smoke roiled off the collapsed pile of blackened timbers where a longhall used to be. Gale watched it as it drifted up, being suddenly sucked away in an eddy of wind once it was higher than the castle wall.
The fighting had been treacherous, and now that the losses were sinking in, he began to wonder if it had all been worth it. But he quickly shoved aside those thoughts. His Lord father taught him that a good commander never second-guesses himself. Perhaps he was right- Gale looked around and reminded himself that Storm’s Break was now his. His soldiers milled about, taking stock of their losses. And their plunders. Scribes scribbled down information as carts with bushels of wheat, barrels of apples, and hay bales were wheeled into the center courtyard, being placed in a semi-organized heap. Too much to be taken by chariot, he mused. He could conscript some of the earth pony prisoners to carry the rest back through the mountain pass to the plains that Cloudwatch sat above.
I don’t envy them. He thought as he watched the carts roll through the large stone-arch main door of the castle. Now, some of them were laden with glistening gold bars. He could use them to trade with some of the outlanders for more food and steel.
The families they left behind at Cloudwatch would be well-fed for many moons, now. With the earth pony growers they had taken prisoner, they could begin to grow sustainable crops. But the losses….
He regarded the ground, where red patches and spots adorned the grey paving stones. Yes, the losses had been tremendous, for both sides. He was down over half of his best soldiers, either wounded or dead. Many of the earth tribe, too. He lowered his eyes. Gale had kept his word- Rockjaw and his sons were among them.
Gale coughed as he inhaled at the wrong time and sucked in a cloud of acrid smoke. With a sudden wave of revulsion he imagined what other materials besides wood might be mixed in with that smoke.
A voice shook him from his stupor. “Five thousand wheat bushels. Fifteen-hundred hay bales. Five hundred barrels of apples. Another Five hundred barrels of whiskey. Seventy barrels of sterile water. Three thousand pure gold bars. We haven’t finished counting the weapons. Two hundred earth ponies dead. One hundred and five more wounded. They’re rooting out the peasants from the catacombs now.”
Gale closed his eyes and grimaced. Misty had an uncanny ability to remember these numbers, and he knew very well what statistics she would be telling him next.
“One hundred and thirty of ours dead. Another sixty wounded, half seriously. We have one hundred and twenty able-bodied fighters left. I’ve already sent a messenger back to Cloudwatch with everything I just told you, Lord.”
Gale opened his eyes to stare up at the towering castle. Under different circumstances he would have admired the architecture…
“Was it worth it?”
Gale looked to Misty. She favored her right foreleg heavily, and her neck bore a nasty gash.
“Get that taken care of.” Gale grunted. “And, yes. It was worth it. Think of what would have become of us if we hadn’t struck them? We would have lasted maybe a month before we wasted away too much to fight. And then what? If they hadn’t killed us then, then the Unicorns would have. They would have come off their mountain and slaughtered us. We couldn’t have hidden on Cloudwatch forever, either. Sooner or later we would have to come down and scraggle for food.”
Gale kicked at a loose stone. “Order them to begin loading what we can into chariots. Then get all the prisoners together and command them to carry the rest. Flog any of them who refuse.”
With that, Gale took to the sky. He made his way back to the outpost, floating back where they had assembled it. When he landed, he turned back to look at the smoke and the debris. Then he went inside to wash his face. He never wished to see Storm’s Break again.
Butternut had been taking shelter with the others when the pegasi kicked the door down. Some of the other commoners had simply screamed in horror, others had stood stock-still with their jaws agape and their eyes fixed in a terrified stare. She however had somehow known that this day would arrive. Her father lived and worked outside the walls, a timber-jack who harvested the greatwoods. She clung to hope that he had lived, but the same pragmatism that told her that the castle would soon fall also told her that her father had almost certainly been conscripted.
They were herded like livestock through the catacombs at spearpoint. Even the dismal light outside was blinding compared to the torchlight in the dank grotto they had been locked in for the past two days.
She was taken aback by the devastation she saw. When she had walked through the great arch door and taken a last look, the towers stood tall and the stonework was elegant, with the lower structures standing just as proud. Some of their timbers even bore eloquent scrollwork, the product of fine earth tribe craftsmanship, despite the hardscrabble times.
Now there was mostly ruin. The tops of the some of the towers were pulverized by lightning. Stone debris littered the courtyard, and most anything wood had taken flame and burned. The smoke from those fires was long gone, and the only thing aflame was Rockjaw’s feather tapestry. She scoffed at the cruelty of that barbarian who was certainly dead now.
The soldiers who drove them looked anemic and pale. Some of them stumbled as they walked, and those who flew did so slowly and awkwardly. Many of them bore wounds, and she knew they had been given a good fight. But desperation drove them, and Rockjaw’s army was not enough to protect the keep. It too had been whittled down by battle losses. Her uncle had died then. She averted her eyes from the corpses on the ground, even those who the fates had granted the dignity of a clean death. She knew her father may be among them.
After being roughly assembled into a cluster in the center of the courtyard, one of the invaders flew up so all could see and hear. Her armor bore the ornate scrollwork of what must have been a high rank, and a soaked-through bandage was at her neck. She spoke in a powerful voice, but one that betrayed the hunger and battle fatigue.
“Your attention here. I am Lieutenant Misty of Cloudwatch. I am commander of the garrison here. You are now subjects of the free pegasi of the Great Plains.”
She took a moment to assess the crowd before continuing.
“I will extend a promise of mercy to all those who swear fealty to us. If we are to continue on good terms, you will all kneel.”
Butternut heard the shuffling of ragged clothes all around as they all begrudgingly knelt. Several did not, most of them burly stallions who stood with their chests puffed out in defiance.
Lieutenant Misty looked as if she fully anticipated this. “Bring them” she said as she nodded to her soldiers, who roughly dragged the dissenters from the crowd and forced them to stand in front of her.
She regarded them with her icy blue eyes. “You will not kneel, sirs?”
One of them stepped forward. Butternut recognized him- a young lad who was a timber-jack’s apprentice. Strong and well-muscled. She didn’t know his name.
He spoke boldly. “I will bend my knee to no foreign bastard who has slain my family and invaded my home.”
Misty cocked her head. “Bold words from one who hid from the battle with the old mares and the cripples.”
He shouted back. “I begged to fight. My father chose me to protect the others. You can ask him” he gestured towards the pegasi who’s nose he had broken when he had barged in- “how I did my duty!”
“You may have done your job. But you are doing your compatriots no good by offering this foolish resistance. Bend the knee.”
He spat. “I won’t! Take our food and be damned, you worthless featherneck!”
Misty narrowed her eyes at the racial slur and nodded to one of the soldiers who she must have had standing by for this occasion, as he carried a large bullwhip which he lashed the colt with, brutally across the back.
He gritted his teeth but did not cry out as he stared back at Misty. The lashes came, twice then thrice again. On the fourth, as the whipper reared back to strike again, the colt lashed out and delivered him a solid buck in the chest, blood from his back flecking across the stones. The other soldiers moved quickly to restrain him, and one held the tip of his wing to the throat. Butternut could see the sharp blades that the pegasi took for weapons there.
The crowd stirred. Misty noticed this. She must have known that a revolt was at hand. And so she nodded again to the soldier.
Butternut averted her eyes and as the crowd gasped and someone let out a scream she knew it was done.
The other two who had chosen not to kneel did so now.
As the young colt’s body was dragged away, Misty resumed her speech. “If there will be no more foolishness, I have need of a party of laborers. We will take our spoils back to the Great Plains and Cloudwatch."
Butternut imagined that journey- a thousand leagues at least. It would take months, and they would have to make the treacherous crossing at The Scar, a brutal chain of jagged granite mountains.
Misty continued. "Whoever volunteers for this duty will be given a double ration of food and drink for the duration of the trip. Who among you are trained growers?”
The hoofs of a quarter of those present went up. Butternut’s did, too. She tended to a corner of the castle garden that yielded squash so delicious it went straight to Rockjaw’s great table. But she was able to steal some for her family, too. Her father appreciated nothing more after a day of labor.
Misty took note of the number. “Very well. You will accompany us as well. The rest of you will be permitted to go back to your homes, if they remain. You will each be assigned a new job and will be expected to follow the command of any soldier to the letter.”
She took a second to look around before finishing. “That will be all. Volunteers and growers, step to the right. All others to the left.”
Soldiers waded through the crowd. Butternut was roughly herded to the right group. Most of the others there were other young peasants. She recognized some from the gardens, but none of her friends seemed to be there.
They were shoved further out into the ruined courtyards. The other group was moved back into the keep. As Butternut watched them go, she wondered if she would ever see them again.