“Battlemother!” Stringe looked up as the pup neared, her fangs already bared. “We found something!”
The pup—Jasper, she reminded herself. Named after a variant of quartz, and about as smart—came to a running stop in the snow, almost tumbling over his armor as he slid on all fours into the small piles of rock she was waiting in. Like the rest of her pack, he’d been chosen for the mission based on two things: his coloration, which was a gentle grey that blended in with the surrounding snow—So why’d his sire name him Jasper?—and his ability to follow orders.
She questioned that last one sometimes. Like many pups, he was eager and willing, with enough sense battered into him by the training camps to obey her commands. And what few he questioned, her own paw would set straight. But like many of his siblings, there was a lack of …
Temperance, she thought as she regarded the pup panting in front of her, bowing his head but taking quick glances up at her in his eagerness to report. Then again, that was why pups were given over to the command of stronger, more seasoned veterans like herself, dogs with more even minds, where the eagerness of youth had given way to caution, cunning, and deadly understanding.
“Well?” she asked, staring down at the pup.
He nodded quickly, tongue lolling out of one side of his helmet. “We found a thing,” Jasper repeated, the barks and growls coming out much softer than they had a moment ago. Which was good. He’d finally recalled their standing orders to be quiet. And before she’d had to pummel him into the nearby boulders.
“You’re sure?” she asked, bending down and letting one paw fall to the handle of the massive mace slung across her back. Jasper quivered and shrunk back, but nodded all the same, his armor shifting.
“Yes, Battlemother Stringe,” he said. “Dark magic. Pony magic!”
“Where?” Her question came out as a growl, and this time Jasper did shrink back. She caught him by his breastplate with one mighty paw, lifting him into the air, feet kicking wildly beneath him.
“North!” Jasper barked, pointing frantically the way he’d come. “That way!”
She pulled him close, close enough that she could see her breath ripple against his coat. “Where to the north, pup? You and your paw-mates were assigned to the north.”
“I … I …” She debated throwing him against the rocks, or maybe to the snow, to help jumpstart his mind. “Six miles to the east of the great pony city, one mile south! In the foothills!”
“Much better,” she said, letting go and dropping Jasper to the ground. “The rest of your paw-mates?” She couldn’t recall if she’d assigned one of her few warriors to that collection of pups.
“Watching, battlemother! Guarding the magic!”
“Good,” she turned, eyeing the others of her pack that had stayed with her in the rocks. One warrior, young but strong, and four pups. “We move,” she ordered, the warrior nodding beneath their armor. “Quietly.” She gave the last word a hiss of emphasis, and again her warrior nodded before turning and barking orders to the other four pups. They jumped to their paws, eager to serve the Golden Horde.
“You,” Stringe said, lifting Jasper again in one paw. “Take me there.”
“At once, battlemother.” The pup bowed low before turning and racing off through the snow to the north, out across the rolling foothills.
Stringe moved after him, scowling at the endless white plains as she moved out of the protection of the rocks, wind cutting through gaps in her armor and chilling her coat. This had better be something, she thought as her lone warrior moved after her, pups spread out around him. I am sick and tired of this endless cold.
The general had been right, however. The ponies had been planning something. Somehow, through some magic Stringe didn’t understand, they’d made an entire city appear in the middle of the plains. And then fought over it, pony battling pony and some strange, dark creature from the mountains both.
Her scowl deepened as she thought of the strange shadow creature that had rampaged across the mountains. Her pack had tailed the pony airship for days, almost revealing themselves several times. One of them, a pony clad in tan, crystal armor, had almost spotted them with his strange magic, and purely by luck.
A shiver ran through her, one that had nothing to do with the wind. Had they been found, it would have been better to die than to return home and report to the general that she’d exposed their operation. Her rank, and very likely her life, would have been forfeit. Better to die in battle for the glory of the Golden Horde. She’d been told as much when she’d taken the mission.
There had been that group of yeti they’d been forced to slaughter, the ones with the dark magic clouding their minds, burning from the crowns of crystal on their heads. There had been several pups wounded, but no mindless yeti were a match for the weapons they now wielded. They had cut them down to the last without any mercy.
Then had come the explosion from the center of the new pony city, and the strange rainbow lights in the sky that made one soft if one looked at them for too long. We should have left days ago. The thought rolled through her mind like tremor through the earth, but she ignored it. Softness could be countered by discipline, and she was a battlemother. And I must return with something for the horde.
That was why she’d stayed. That was why her pack was spread across the mountains, searching for anything, anything that she could bring back to Kaan. A fragment of crystal, of armor, anything. And yet the dark crystals seemed to have vanished, ripped from the world like they’d never existed.
As she moved she let out a low howl, as loud as she dared so many miles from the pony city. She’d seen pony guards walking the streets from the foothills, golden specks that spoke of order and force. Seen more arrive by train, even after the accursed airship had left. If they were spotted, or even suspected, they would be forced to flee or die.
No one must know we were here, Stringe reminded herself as she moved across the snow in a gentle lope. That was why their armor had been covered in thin, grey cloth. Why her pack was made up of warriors and pups with grey-and-blue coloration like her own. Camouflage. Stealth.
A pity none of the more specialized warriors were quite ready for such a mission yet. But the horde was still young. And their loss is my gain, Stringe thought, baring her teeth. Already she was a battlemother, one of the few females powerful enough to both lead a pack of her own and give birth to new pups to fuel the growing army of the horde. When and where I choose, she thought with a sense of satisfaction. She’d already birthed one litter of pups, a litter that had been conceived before the rise of the great General Kaan, now given in his honor. Her clan was from one of the first he’d claimed. Maybe after I return from this mission a success I will consider bearing another.
She would have many options available to her after she returned from her current assignment. If she returned with something to show for it other than wasted rations. The Horde was still young, only a few months old. Returning with empty paws would be seen as a waste of what resources they possessed.
Granted, it would likely mean being sent to acquire more, sent on a raid to the south, into the unknown lands past their new home. She’d heard the rumors of what lay beyond their magnificent new dwellings, of lands never explored occupied by creatures never seen. And armies too. Already some of their scout packs had returned with tales of spoils and combat to be had there.
Going south on a raid would mean going into battle. The idea made her paws clench in eager anticipation.
But that is then. This is now. The reminder brought her back in line as Jasper scampered on up ahead, leaving clear tracks across the snow. Idiot. Behind her, she knew, her warrior and remaining four pups were covering their own tracks, as well as hers. No traces.
Answering howls began to drift out at her from the winds, often muffled and garbled, but understandable enough. My pack returns. Good.
If Jaspers paw-mates had actually found something, then they would finally be able to depart. They could return to the caves in the Crystal Mountains, gather what was left of their supplies, collapse the entrances, and head east. At the Choke they would pack their armor and equipment away to take passage on a private vessel south, down the edges of the sea. To return home.
With a prize. A familiar scent teased at her nostrils, carried on the winds, and she almost growled. It was her pack. But since she couldn’t see them yet over the rolling foothills, that meant they were once again ignoring their orders to stay clean. She would need to remind them.
Then she paused. There was something else to the musky scent she was now smelling, sharp and bitter, a smell that made the hackles on the back of her neck rise.
Fear. She came to a stop, one hand going to the crossbow hanging at her hip, the other outstretched to her remaining warrior. “Ready your weapons,” she ordered, drawing back the cord of her crossbow with a quick tug. “Something has the pups spooked.”
The warrior grunted, drawing his own crossbow and loading it. Around him, the four pups she’d given him responsibility over bunched up, readying their own, weaker crossbows. While not as powerful as the larger ones she and her warriors wielded, nor as well-built or even easy to reload, they were far more numerous in the paws of her many pups. Once their ammunition was expended, the heavy weapons were equipped with large blades for close combat. Simple, brutal, and effective.
Stringe moved ahead, motioning with one paw for her remaining warrior to flank to the left as they neared the next hill. From the strength of the scent, the pups Jasper had led them to were on the other side. And they still smelled terrified, though there was no smell of blood with them.
A quiet howl echoed nearby. She recognized the call. Phosphor, one of her other two warriors. With his own paw of pups. Four for each of her warriors, and eight more besides. Good. If there is trouble, they will arrive to lend aid.
As she smashed the skulls of their foes in with her mace.
She crested the top of the hill, crossbow at the ready, and saw her wayward pups. All four of them were clustered around something in the snow, facing outward. Their ears were down, their eyes wide. But there was no foe nearby that she could see.
However, she could feel something poking at her mind. A tendril of unease, and she bared her fangs. Magic. And familiar magic at that. Not the earthen magic of her kind, but the magic of fear that the shadow pony had used against the city.
“What have you found?” she asked, lowering her weapon slightly.
“Battlemother!” One of the pups darted forward. “A pony horn, battlemother!” Behind where she had stood, Stringe could see a small depression in the snow. The sense of unease was faint, still, but seemed to be radiating from it. “Look, battlemother!”
She eyed the pup for a moment, checking her for any signs of strangeness in her eyes or elsewhere before taking a few steps forward and peering into the hole. There, at the bottom of the depression in the snow, its surface slick as if it had been radiating heat, was a red, curved horn. Not like any unicorn horn she’d ever seen before, but at the same time, it was the right size, and practically radiating magic.
“So … you did find something.” She shoved the slight edge of fear away as she looked down at the horn. This would be worth showing the great General Kaan. “Very good.” The pups nodded with eager excitement. “Very well.” She shifted her weight, one arm reached for her pack. “We will collect it—”
“Jasper will!” The pup jumped forward, and before she could say anything, wrapped his paws around the horn and lifted it out of the snow.
Then he froze, his eyes going wide with shock, body tensing as his jaws opened, sucking in a breath to scream, pupils shrinking—
Stringe’s crossbow spike entered through Jasper’s mouth, punching out the side of his helmet and skewering the pup’s brain. The body teetered for a moment, twitching, and then slumped to the snow, the red horn bouncing atop the limp form.
“Idiot!” Stringe snarled, glaring down at the dead pup. “Overeager imbecile!” The other three pups had widely eased away as she glared down at the body. “Touching a dark magic artifact with his paws! Fool!” She rounded on the rest of the pups. “Do any of the rest of you plan on joining him?” All stared up at her with wide eyes, but they shook their heads.
“Now we have to dispose of the body,” she said, turning back to the horn lying atop Jasper’s corpse. Blood was leaking out from beneath his body, now, staining the snow. She reached around her back, pulling out the small pack she’d been carrying since the mission began.
“Idiots,” she spat again as she pulled out the small, crystalline container from inside her backpack. It didn’t look impressive, but the unicorn working for General Kaan had assured her that it would contain any magic placed inside with the proper and careful bleeding of any excess magical pressure. She opened the box and set it in the snow. A pair of tongs came from her pack next, and she carefully reached out and plucked the horn from where it lay atop the pup’s body. She set it gently into the crystalline box, then, very carefully and using only the tongs, packed a blanket atop it so that it wouldn’t move much during transport. Only then, with the lid locked in place, did she at last put the tongs away and stand.
One more of her warriors had arrived while she was busy, bringing with him another four pups. All of them watched as she carefully secured the small crystal box within her pack. Whether or not the general’s pet unicorn could find a use for it, Kaan would have it to do with as he pleased. And if it held power of any kind …
“You three,” she said, pointing to the other members of the paw the dead pup had been part of. “Bury that body and all signs it was here. Deep! And fast!” The three jumped at her command, burrowing into the snow with great scoops of their large forepaws. “Leave no trace of blood or injury.” She stepped over to the body, and after a moment’s consideration, grasped the clean end of the crossbow spike between her fingers and pulled it free of the body, wiping it clean on the snow. No sense leaving any clues if someone did find the body.
She turned to look at her warriors. “One of you stay behind and make certain these pups bury the body,” she said. “The rest will gather the pack. We move for the cave. And from there, to home.”
She smiled, fangs bared to the world. “We bring General Kaan a great prize.”
END OF THE DUSK GUARD SAGA: BOOK THREE