//------------------------------// // Chapter Six // Story: North and South // by Tempest Wind //------------------------------// June 25, 1861 “Victory belongs to the most persevering” The storm raged, and roared around the ponies of the Army of Equestria. Massive raindrops splattered troop and tent alike, as the shower twisted the previously soft dirt into the sucking depths of mud. The June rains had arrived with the onset of Summer, and the Army’s advance had suitably stalled out. Luna, Twilight, and Trixie remained bottled up around Alexandria: still unable to move towards Fredericksburg due to the flooded river. The reports from the Western Army of Equestria were sparse, but similar; static and unmoving. Tempest Wind sighed wearily, as she weathered the storm, waiting for her forwardmost scouts to return with their report. Unlike Charm, who had cavalry ponies on hoof to help find the enemy, Winds’ Corps did without. She’d at least been able to ditch her six pounder field guns, as old and worthless as the things were. Instead, her two batteries- Cheerilee’s and Cruise’s - were lugging around captured Confederate twelve pounder Neighpoleon guns. Still a far cry from the Regular Corps’ Thirty Pounder guns, but better than nothing. Much better than nothing, in fact. “General!” a scout finally called, snapping off a salute - which Wind returned - the both of them sopping wet and futilely using their winter overcoats as rain cover. “General, we have the report!” The scout called, over the heavy storm, as the wind cut at both of them; the Summer heat had set in as well, leaving the rainstorm at a balmy and sweat-inducing 89 degrees fahrenheit. “Go on, then!” Tempest nodded, fighting to be heard over the storm front, and nodding to the Corporal before her. “Ma’am it’s pretty bad, and I don’t mean the weather! We didn’t find anything, but Charm’s cavalry found Rebels crossing the river and headed our way!” “Towards Staunton?!” “Yes, General! Charm’s getting the same report right now, I figure! Cavalry passed me en-masse on the way here!” “Alright, go find Vesali, have him rouse the infantry and the rest of command! Be ready in case we’ve got to pull back, and let’s get packed for movement! Any idea how many rebels!?” “Couldn’t tell, ma’am! A lot!” “Shit.” ===#=== Tempest drug herself into the large command tent that Charm had erected, shaking off her overcoat as she mopped the water and sweat from her forehead with her forage cap - and as Lightning Charm herself gave the bat pony a flat look. “It took you long enough, Brigadier General.” “Apologies, Major General Charm.” Tempest nodded, taking the rebuke in stride. “Hard moving out there, the storm’s getting worse, not better.” “I know.” Charm nodded, frowning - not at Tempest, but at the storm raging outside. “My scouts,” She began without preamble, “Don’t know what’s in front of us for sure; the weather’s too poor for that. But we know it’s at least as big a force as ours. If not larger.” “So we have guesswork at best, then.” Tempest scowled, shaking her head. “Shit. Any chance we can pull back to the Ferry?” “Not in this weather, Brigadier.” Charm frowned, lips turning downwards into a hearty sneer. “Planning on leaving so soon, General Wind?” “Spare me the theatrics, Major General. No, I’m not planning on quitting the field, I’m trying to think of the realities.” Tempest retorted, glaring daggers at Charm. It was clear and evident between the two that they highly disliked each other; Charm viewed her and her Corps as untrained hooligans, and she viewed Charm and her regulars as snobbish pricks. There was no love lost between the two. But, they had bigger issues for the moment. “Let’s focus. Do you have a plan? If we’re not going to retreat, the closest town is Staunton. They’re already across the river, so holding them at the riverline isn't going to happen.” “How familiar are you with the ground around here? My corps just finished marching up; aside from my scouts that found the enemy, I don’t know a lot of what’s happening down here yet.” Charm admitted, accepting the cessation of their feud for the moment.  “Familiar enough, I’ve been here for about a week.” Wind nodded. “Then you’re the commanding officer.” Charm bit out, clearly unhappy with the decision. “I’m trusting you with the Regulars, Wind, do not fuck this up.” She prodded, jabbing Wind’s chest with a wingtip. “Only way I’m leaving this muddy hole is on a stretcher, Charm. See to your folks, we’re going to draw up around Mount Comfort.” “Mount Comfort?” “There’s a Faustian church ‘round there, and it’ll be more solid ground than Bald Mountain. Walked up there yesterday when the rain started,” Tempest began, shaking her head. “Bald Mountain’s all mud, and too slick to climb. We’d have to leave all our supplies down at the bottom, and I shouldn’t have to explain why that’s a bad idea.” “True, and it keeps the fighting away from the townsfolk. Mount Comfort it is. I’ll have my corps moved within the hour.” “Can you do thirty? Faster we can get there the faster we can lay the guns.” “We’ll see. This is one of the worst storms I’ve seen for a while.” Charm nodded, frowning. “I’ll make the attempt.” “That works.” Tempest sighed, with a shrug. “Nothin’ else for it, let’s go see if the flank collapses today.” ===#=== The deluge only got worse as the Confederates drew closer to the Equestrian line. It took most of the day, as the Equestrians continued to dig into the muck and mud around Mount Comfort, and the night was a miserable one, as the storm continued to rain terribly upon the battered federal troops. Around ten in the morning, the rainstorm gave way to a full-fledged thunderstorm, grounding any fliers and sending the troopers ducking for cover with swears and curses against the wild weather. Normally, weatherponies would deal with the obstinate storm, but most of said weatherponies were drafted at the present moment.  One would have to be mad to fight in such conditions; but there were the rebels, marching gamely up the road despite the hellish conditions. And, one could argue, here were the federals, prepared to keep them at bay.  The regulars opened fire first from behind some temporary battlements, as their percussion cap rifles echoed out, barely audible over the rainstorm. Several guns fouled, as their wet powder failed to launch their bullets, but enough shots were leaving barrels to attract the Confederates’ attention.  Regulars clashed with regulars, as the Confederate regular army made contact with the Federal main army along the battlement wall. Shots blasted back and forth across the mountainside, as the two armies engaged each other at a spitting distance. Thunder echoed as the lightning flashed, and Tempest shifted the Federal flank to assist the embattled regulars. Cannons - as little use as they were in such frantic and close-in fighting - sounded out, some of the only audible noise resounding against the maelstrom they found themselves in. The confederates continued forwards, directly into the federal line, as bayonets were fixed and the shooting match became a brawl, aided by cavalry on both ends of the hill. Sword and pistol met rifle and bayonet, as the federal line frantically shoved the rebels back down the hill, and sent them slipping and sliding through the muck, further down the road. Her forces cheered wearily, before the Brigadier General rallied them, flashing her saber across the front - illuminated by a distant strike of lightning - “Here they come again, lads! Let’s send ‘em packin’ back to Richmond!” Again, the rebels struck into the federal line, as rifle shot met rifle shot along the top of Mount Pleasant. Once, then twice, then a third time, the rebels attempted to shove their way not just up the hill to the line’s front, but to the sides as well, and each time, they were shakily repulsed by the mixed army of regulars and militia, who bloodily forced the Confederates back down the hill. It wasn’t until near midnight until the rebels finally stopped throwing themselves at the beleaguered federal line, as ammunition finally ran out - and with it, morale. The storm continued late into the morning, and it wasn’t until near dawn that the Equestrians even realized that the rebels had finally quit the field, as only the bodies and broken wagons of the Confederate artillery train remained present, at the base of Mount Pleasant. The Army of Equestria had carried the day. The flank near Harpers Ferry and Whinnychester remained solidly under federal control, and stories of the mare who’d been named after the Tempest she fought through began to circulate the tents. And, perhaps, just maybe, a step in the right direction had been made to soothe the spite between the volunteers and the regulars. If one squinted, and looked in at an angle. Brigadier General Wind just hoped that she was worth the Major General’s stars that Charm had hoofed over to her, instructing that Her Majesty had seen fit to promote the Brigadier for her Valiant defense of the Equestrian Flank. The egg-sucking scowl that Charm wore throughout the entire announcement made the promotion all the more tolerable, in Wind’s estimation.