White smoke was still billowing on the battlefield when a pegasus shouted, "They're coming again!"
"Back to your positions, quickly!" James called. "Look alive!" The soldiers moved quickly to obey; the majority had been under fire even before this battle, and the rest had learned fast enough in this one. Well before the Griffons came into range of crossbow fire, almost everyone was in place and the cannons had been loaded.
"They must be scared, sir," a unicorn regular said. "They don't have nearly as many troops as we saw run off."
That wasn't necessarily true. The birds had been beaten once, but the human knew that even an arrogant enemy could be an intelligent one. "Keep a look out regardless; they may have something up their feathery sleeves."
"Yes sir."
From the look of them, most of the enemy this time around were of the red variety, armed with muskets and hefting bayonets on their belts. Their faces were like stone, without emotion, as they calmly advanced. There were only a few hundred of them, between three hundred and four hundred in all; nowhere near as many as had been alive when the first round of fighting had died off. If the rest of the enemy hadn't died or deserted, they were either in reserve or...
James turned to a Guard captain nearby. "Take a couple companies and bring them to our left flank. If they want to flank us, I want our boys to be ready."
"Understood, Colonel." The Guard immediately set off to obey his orders.
"Another enemy battery setting up behind their troops, sir," said a pegasus, clutching a pair of binoculars in his hooves. "They look like proper cannons, this time."
"Ugh." James looked through his own binoculars; yep, there was a battery of cannons back there, with crews wearing red. They looked as up to date as the Equestrian artillery. "Get our own guns to shell them, and alert the gunners immediately if you see another group of enemy guns."
"Yes sir." There was the sound of flapping wings as the pony flew away.
James peered at the enemy battery... one of the gunners was holding a lanyard...
"Get down!" He ducked below the fence.
There was a distant roar, and seconds afterward a loud screaming as the foe's shells flew through the air. They impacted moments later, with loud deafening roars. Wood splintered and stones shattered as the explosives blasted the Equestrian line. More screams, this time of living beings in pain, rose above the noise.
James looked to his left and saw that one gun had had it's wheel destroyed; it tilted on it's left side, inert and of no further use in this battle. One of it's crew was on the ground just behind it, with a wooden splinter in his side. A medic came up quickly and began administering to the injured soldier.
The remaining guns in the battery returned fire. Other friendly cannons boomed out one after another, and shells landed among the hostile artillery crews and the Griffon foot soldiers.
"More guns, coming out of the trees!"
"I see them!" James yelled back, to who he didn't know. "Hit them before they unlimber!" The Equestrian artillery complied, sending shot after shot into the enemy cannoneers. One of the enemy guns and it's limber were hit; the limber, full of shells, exploded, killling or maiming everyone nearby, and the cannon itself flew a short ways, it's weight impotent against the fury of the blast. As he watched, another gun was knocked out, though it's disabling wasn't anywhere as dramatic as it's twin.
Suppressed by the Equestrian fire, the opposing artillery was unable to fire quickly, and many of their shots were poorly aimed, largely over or undershooting. That nuisance, at least, had been settled.
The red soldiers either didn't realize what had happened to their artillery, or just didn't care. They stayed just out of effective crossbow range and leveled their matchlocks; a sheet of fire blazed from most of their weapons. striking the Equestrian line and inflicting casualties. A number of soldiers fell out of line; the rest tried to fire back, in spite of the distance away the enemy was. The scored a few hits, but most missed or fell short.
An infantry attack, with artillery support; yes, this was much more tactical and strategic than facing the Changelings had been. But James felt that something wasn't right.
The sounds of firing to the far left of the line, out of his sight, proved he had been correct. A pegasus flew up to him. "Sir, the enemy troops have flanked us to the left, many of them the kilted boys we knocked out earlier."
"Are we holding?"
"Yes, for now, sir. If they throw more troops in, we might need reinforcements."
"Thats the best we can expect for now." Then, realizing he had forgetten the enemy could fly, he added, "Tell Captain Barrel to bring a company to the right of our line."
"Yes sir."
As the trooper flew away, James looked back at the action, through through the sights of his musket rather than his binoculars. An enemy officer with a magnificent sword led a company, perhaps a hundred or so strong, at his section of the line. He aimed and pulled the trigger. The gun kicked his shoulder, and he was covered in smoke briefly as the wind blew into his face. When it cleared, he saw that the officer was still standing, though a soldier just behind him was clutching his chest as he crumpled.
He loaded the gun again, but before he could fire several bullets slammed into the fence, and he ducked back down; more metal balls flew throught the space he had just occupied.
That was too close. He felt like kicking himself; of course a single gun, blazing away every now and then, would be noticed. He switched to a discarded crossbow, loaded, and fired again.
James raised his head and squinted, trying to make out the enemy batteries. He could see one, but while there was activity, it wasn't firing back. He turned to a unicorn sergeant. "Get some of our guns to stop firing at the artillery and to start shooting at the Griffon foot soldiers." The sergeant nodded wordlessly and teleported away in a flash of gray.
A few minutes later, the intensity of the barrage against the red-uniformed Griffons increased, doing moderate damage to their line and disrupting their formation. Their rate of fire decreased proportionately.
The same enemy officer he had shot at earlier waved his sword, clearly ordering a charge.
Can't this idiot see he has no way to pierce our lines with the forces he has to bear? True, their initial offensive had inflicted some damage to the Equestrian line, but then, after their artillery had been suppressed, their attack had soured. And from what he could hear off to his left, the enemy had been fought to a standstill.
Idiot or not, the officer, a captain or lieutenant based on the number of soldiers he lead, gave the order, and his soldiers obeyed, fixing bayonets - a new unique feature for any matchlock, as James had not heard of them being used on matchlocks back on his own world - and leveling them like spears. "Raniero! Raneiro!" they cried as they ran forward.
Many of them paid the ultimate price for their charge; dozens were hit as they came on, crumpling or grabbing at wounds, others dead before they hit the ground.
What was surprising wasn't how many fell, but how many lived to reach their foes' lines. They came on, jabbing with bayonets and officers slashing with swords.
James ducked as one bayoneted musket came his way, then he cut of the end of the weapon with his own sword. He then stabbed the Griffon through the chest, and struck down another who foolishly tried to attack over the body of his companion.
"Die, monster!"
James turned to his left, and barely lifted his sword in time to block the blow from the enemy offcier he had shot at earlier.
"Who is the monster?" James batted away his foe's sword and made an attack of his own. "The one who invades another's home, or the one who tries to defend it?"
The Griffon blocked the attack. "The one who defends the greedy!" He slashed at the human, who dodged to the right and managed to strike the left wing of the Griffon officer, who screeched like an eagle.
"The only greedy ones here are you and yours!" James punched the Griffon in the face with the fist clutching his sword. The Griffon cried out and cut the human's left arm.
"Arrrgh!" He lashed out with his left fist; he connected, and although pained streamed through his arm, he was rewarded with his enemy falling to the ground. He leveled his sword at the Griffon's face. "You are now a prisoner of Equestria. Corporal," he said, nodding to a soldier nearby, "take him behind our lines to the detention center."
"Yes sir. Get on, you," the pony said, spear lowered and ready for action. "Don't try anything." He lead the Griffon away.
The loss of most of their officers pulled the heart from the Griffon attack; they began to fall back, though grudgingly. Finally they turned tail and fled, taking as many of their dead and wounded with them as they could before leaving the field entirely.
------------------------------------------------------
"We failed again!" The General was in a rage, flipping over the table in the middle of the hut and then throwing a chair through a glass window when this failed to satisfy his rage. "How could you have failed against these inferior specimens!? And where is the Leftenant!?"
"Monsieur, ze lieutenant has not returned, and we fear he is dead or captured," replied a captain in a French accent. He was unalarmed by his superior's antics; the General was well known for fits of rage similar to this one, and he had been through quite a few of them personally. In this respect he was braver than most of his compatriots; the other officers in the room looked like they would bolt any second, and one threw himself behind the upturned table.
The General snorted angrilly. "Mark my words, that weakling coward got himself captured!" He threw another chair straight at the French-speaking officer, who calmly stepped aside as the missile passed and broke against something outside. "General Hawkfrost* does not know defeat, and I have no intentions to meet with it!"
"Mon General, we must be realisitic. The enemy has more artillery and more ground soldiers, and zey hold the better ground. We must wait for our reinforcements, and attack then."
"I want my victory NOW!" The General flew into the captain's face and grabbed his subordinate's throat. "And to ensure that, I will lead this next assault MYSELF!" Then, turning to the other officers, he added, "Seeing as I can't count on anyone else to do it."
The captain coolly waited for his superior to release him, then said quietly, "As you wish, mon General."
------------------------------------------------------------
More body shifting, more anxiety as they waited, hoping the enemy had learned their lesson and would not make another effort that day. A few hours passed in silence, and the sun began to set at last. Perhaps...
Perhaps not. Flutes and drums began to play as the enemy soldiers - most of them from the kilted or otherwise less advanced units - once more came out from the treeline. Shouts from the Equestrians brought ponies rushing back to their lines and looking to their weapons.
"Come on!" James raised his sword. "One more effort, one more stand, and we'll have broken them!" He picked up his musket and made sure it was loaded.
"Sir! Sir!" An earth pony regular ran up to him, holding a telescope. "Look over there!" the pony said excitedly, pointing with a hoof.
James did so, raising the binoculars to his eyes. A Griffon, wearing bejeweled, golden armor and bearing two large, drawn swords in his claws, was leading the attackers.
"Their commander, then." James lowered the binoculars. "Have the artillery knock down as many as they can before they reach us; it looks like their commander has decided it's do or die."
"Yes sir."
The guns roared a minute later. Shells and cannon balls hit the Griffons, who marched on regardless. A number of shells landed next to the enemy General, but he ignored them.
Some of the enemy - most of them wearing red uniforms - fired as they ran, taking quick aim. Few of them hit anything. Most, armed with swords, kept running, and some dropped ranged weapons in favor of those that involved melee combat. Many of them fell long before getting close enough to do anything effective. Quite a number, fear rising within them, panicked and began to run.
The General didn't seemed inclined to accept this; he barked out a command, and five of the red-coated soldiers fired into the deserters, hitting two of them and stretching them lifeless on the field.
What kind of commander kills his own men!?! James took a shot at the Griffon General. An officer beside the enemy commander fell, claw on his chest where he had been hit.
The enemy weathered the storm of fire, and finally the survivors reached the Equestrian lines. The clash of metal on metal and the roar and shouts of battle cires filled the air.
James was too busy trying to survive to pay much attention to his surrounding for the next little while, but suddenly found himself bereft of enemies. Catching his breath, he turned to his right and saw the Griffon General. At the same moment the General saw the human, finishing off a wounded pony as he turned.
"You!" The Griffon walked forward, swords flashing in the setting sunlight. "What are you? Bah, it does not matter." The General stepped closer. "Know this; I am General Hawkfrost, and no matter who or what you are, you must know that you... are... doomed!" The General struck with both swords as he spoke the last word.
James ducked beneath them. His enemy had two weapons to his one; he could only block one blow at a time.
Unacceptable. It was time for the odds to change. Now.
James picked up a spear with his left hand, all the while holding his sword in his right. He took up a fighting stance.
"Bah! Are the ponies so weak they had to send a two-legged monkey to fight for them? They had to send a circus reject to lead their armies?" The General laughed as he struck again.
Rage filled James as he blocked the blows, and stabbed at the General. The spear clashed against hardened armor and failed to penetrate. He was barely able to pull back before General Hawkfrost struck once more, burying his swords in the ground.
"I will present your body to the King! I expect he will be most pleased with my performance," the Griffon went on as he pulled his swords out of the mud.
"He won't get it." James lashed out with the spear and managed to hit his opponent's arm. The General growled as the spear bit. He followed it up with a strike to the General's foreclaw, knocking the sword out of the Griffon's grasp. "And you won't get the chance to lead soldiers on a battlefield ever again!" He tried to behead his enemy.
The General retaliated by dodging the blow and then grabbing the spear, ripping it out of James' hands and breaking it over his knee, throwing the broken pieces away. He then struck a fierce set of attacks, which James was barely fast enough to block.
Hawkfrost laughed. "I will kill you here and now, and your army will be destroyed under our might!"
"They aren't as worthless as you make them out to be," James said, defending himself as well as he could. "They have courage, and they have spirit. And they fight to protect the people and land they love." He began a counterattack, temporarily driving the General back. "What do you fight for other than fame and fortune?"
"A future ruled by King Raneiro and the Griffon kingdom!" the General replied, going back on the attack. "And I will see it brought to the forefront by my own claw!"
"A future that will never come!" James fought back, but had to retreat under the weight of the enemy's onslaught.
He was backing up when he tripped over something on the ground, and fell flat on his back; his hat flew off. He was stunned for a moment as the General loomed over him.
"And so it ends..." The general raised his sword over his head...
As James kicked him as hard as he could in the fork of the legs.
Hawkfrost groaned, dropped his sword, and leaned over, reaching for the injured area of his body. James kicked again, knocking Hawkfrost backwards. As the Griffon commander picked up his sword, James stabbed him in the neck. Hawkfrost let out a scream that was cut short as he fell to the ground.
Yes... and so it ends.
The human looked around as the Griffon expired. Most of the enemy troops had been dealt with, one way or another, and the rest were fleeing as fast as they could to the north and northwest. A few raised their arms in a gesture of surrender upon seeing their General perish; they were swiftly taken into custody.
It was over. They had won.
-----------------------------------------------------------
*Note, I did take this name from the Warrior Cats series. I also tried to model General Hawkfrost (somewhat) off of General Grievous from the Clone Wars.