//------------------------------// // Chapter 23; Snow fall // Story: The War of 1002 // by Fireheart 1945 //------------------------------// The Griffon forces hadn't given up just because their two-thousand strong vanguard had been smashed. Although their main force had slowed, it continued to advance. Sooner or later they would engage the Equestrian forces again, and the forces James and his compatriots could muster would face a situation similar to the "Black Week" in the Changeling invasion, when retreat had been necessary against a force that outnumbered him and had the intelligence to outflank him. Not to mention the battle had consumed half the ammunition he had. And not to say the quartermasters were willing to help much. "What do you mean, we're not getting more ammo?" James shouted in response to a soldier who had delivered the message. The soldier, a bronze pegasus, shivered a little, but answered calmly enough, "I'm only the messenger, sir, not a member of the Quartermaster Corps." "Then tell them I will court-martial them if they don't do their job and get us the supplies we need to survive and fight." The human sighed and leaned back in his chair, a hand over his face. This wasn't the first time supplies had been delayed by the ones who were supposed to deliver them, but it was the first time a direct order had been directly refused. After a few seconds, he lifted his head to find the trooper still there, awaiting further instructions. "Sorry for that," he apologized. "Just make sure they know that I'm coming down there if they don't deliver the supplies." "Yes sir." After the pony was gone, James redirected his efforts toward the map on the table. The number of red blocks outnumbered his own blue ones two-to-one. And the foe was reforming, with units already beginning to move out. Four two-block formations had moved out, with their objective being Trottingham; Hawkfrost's battle and campaign plans had been captured. Each block represented a thousand warriors and soldiers. Once they converged, victory would be difficult. Once they converged... He took a closer look. The hostile formations were all somewhat distant from one another, enough so that a day's walk would be necessary to bridge the two that were closest to each other. Vulnerable, if he could hit them one at a time while they marched divided. Even smashing one of them would increase the odds by that much. He moved his smaller blocks around; he began a plan to knock out the two blocks to his left (to his enemy's right); as he suspected, he had a chance to surround and crush one of the Griffon forces. It can be done. Even so, it would leave Trottingham up for grabs from the other three forces while he destroyed the unit on their flank. That was unacceptable. He leaned on one arm of his chair, head on his hand, as he tired to think of a way to carry out the plan. Yes, the "Unauthorized Regiment," the band of volunteer fighters, could be called upon to defend the town, but that was suicide; the group didn't have the arms or the numbers to resist a determined attack. In any event, the unit was currently out raiding Griffon supply lines, and could not be called back in a hurry. We could have some soldiers fell trees and use boulders to block the roads. But that would require splitting off some of my own boys to do so, and I can hardly afford that if this plan is to come into fruition. He thought about it. This time, deception would be necessary as well. The only question is, how? The only thing he could think of was to create fortifications and man them with dummy cannons and troops. The more he thought about it, though, the more he came to think that this might actually work. After all, it had been confirmed that the enemy were not using radio to communicate; they would have to scout using the eyes of soldiers and scouts, and they would take time to inform their superiors of anything they discovered. Yes... I could have a handful of my soldiers in the breastworks, enough to fire at the enemy and counter their scouts, and use unicorn magic to create false images of our boys to fill out the trenches... and a few pegasi flying around wouldn't be suspicious at all, either. This was all just theory right now, of course. But the only other alternatives he could think of were either to fight a battle he would be likely to lose, or fall back and wait for winter and reinforcements to stop the enemy. Neither of those options seemed encouraging; time was not on their side right now. It was act now or lose, and he had no intention of losing. --------------------------------------------------------------- While some of his subordinates didn't agree on the plan, James had the authority to override them. And, as it turned out, he had good reason. The false trenches were dug, and logs were carved, painted and placed in appropriate locations. To an airborne observer, the defense would look solid and realistic; a pegasus admitted he'd almost been fooled himself, and would have if he hadn't known what was going on. Of course, without realistic soldiers to fill out those trenches, the whole deception would be for naught. Therefore, a few unicorns, mostly well versed in various types of magic, would create images of soldiers. James couldn't tell the difference from a real trooper and a fake from a distance. However, the false soldier could not be touched; his hand went right through the dupe, as if it were any old hologram back on Earth. He was only able to supervise for a couple days, although he was able to leave it all to someone he fully trusted. He was getting a drink of soda when a voice interrupted him. "This is a convincing bluff, my friend, but it could use some work." James set down his glass, turned around, and found Blue Fur waiting a short distance away. "Greeting, friend," James hailed, "and how are you this fine day?" "Quite decently, dear chap. It's been a while, hasn't it?" "Too long. Here, have a glass on me." He filled a small glass with soda and handed it to the earth pony, who took it and drank deeply." "My thanks." The blue-gray pony put down the glass and wiped his lips. "I was sent for the war effort; little else requires immediate attention in regards to engineering." "We could use the help." James' wave encompassed the camp. "As you can see, we're making this great deception in order to strike first, knock them out one by one. We can't just remain here and take it on the chin. I'd apprieciate it if you could aid us in this endeavor." Blue Fur chuckled. "I can, and I will. Watch me." "I can't unfortunately. I have to lead most of our boys out shortly." James looked up, put a hand to his chin, and thought. "Hmmm..." He turned back to his friend. "Can I count on you to keep this facade going?" "I believe so." Then, his face becoming less merry, the pony added, "Keep yourself safe out there." "I'll do what I can." ------------------------------------------------------------------- In his small, enclosed tent, Rand the Changeling sat on a bed of pillows and looked out the little opening in the door into the night sky. His thoughts were filled with troubles. Other than James, he had not found anyone willing to be his friend. It was depressing, more so than being a prisoner. He well remembered the invasion of Canterlot city. He had seen no comfort in the eyes of the ponies he had walked and flown among, only fear and terror. In his heart (if he had one; that was a question he had asked himself more than once), he had known the attack was wrong; it had felt like a violation of general morality and of the freedom he had so often wished for himself and for other Changelings. In the end, though, fear of Queen Chrysalis had made him go through with his part of the invasion. The spell that had repelled the Queen's invasion had hurt; he had been scattered, with the Queen herself and her drones, to the four winds. It had taken months for them to reunite. Rand shook his head. It had been an embarrassment to the Queen, who had vowed revenge. She had become... darker, in the light of the failed attack. That was the only word that could properly be applied to her change in character; she had become more willing to use violence, more willing to work her drones to the limit, caring less and less if they died from exhaustion or disease. Then the war had come. In the first weeks of the war, he had known nothing but terror as the first elements of the Equestrian army inflicted heavy losses on the invaders. Memories of spells zipping by his head, close enough to feel the heat, remembering body after black body collapsing to the ground from spear and crossbow; it had almost been enough to blow his cover of being a normal Changeling drone. The night he had been captured, he had gone to the small pool and looked at his reflection, hoping to find something within himself, something that would forgive him for the acts he had conducted, something that would free him from the terrible life he was forced to live. In a way, that had happened, although he had never thought it would have resulted in a gun being pointed in his face. Seeing the distrust by all but one of the group, being subjected first hoof to the hatred all Changelings now suffered from ponykind, instead of the love they so desired, hurt more than anything. It had only been James' willingness to trust him, however little, that had kept him from collapsing into absolute despair. Since then, scientists and biologists had studied him excessively, though at James' insistence they didn't go too far; one researcher had advocated using him as a test subject. He shivered at that thought. Presently, he heard talking coming from the door; "State your business here." "General Lavigne, and my business is my business. Now, stand aside and let me in." Rand felt his hopes soar a little. James was here! "Sir, I'll have to scan you to make sure you're not a Changeling or a spy before I can allow that to happen." Rand heard James sigh. "Alright, if it will make you feel better." There was the slight hum of unicorn magic for a few second, then the same guard said, "He's clean. You may enter, sir." "Much obliged." The door was pushed aside to reveal the one and only human currently in Equestria. Rand sat up and stretched; without exercise, he was getting a little stiff. "Good to see you, sir." James smiled a little. "There's no need for rank or titles here." "Sorry s... er, I mean, sorry. It's just that I've always been subordinate to someone else before." "I can understand that." The human sat down. "Now, on the whole reason for this meeting. In a couple days, the army is moving out, and I'm going with them. That means, needless to say, that we'll be separated for a while." The Changeling felt his hopes beginning to fade. "What does it mean for me?" James sighed again, taking a deep breath before going on. "The Princess has made plans for your transfer to the Royal Palace, where she'll keep an eye on you, and try to find a common solution for the Changeling race." Rand shivered again. "I don't think I want to meet her." "I've met her; she's actually quite kind, and she made no mention of ill treatment in store for you, in fact she explicitly said there would be none." "I know that, but I helped invaded her city, helped to capture ponies to harvest them for love; I don't know how she'll get by that." "Celestia is neither deity nor cruel. She is willing to forgive you. I've made sure to include every last detail of everything you've told me in my letters to her." James took off his hat and scratched at his head. "What is it?" "Well, while you're in the palace, being shown around by the Princess and being surrounded by comfort, me and the boys'll be heading in the direct opposite, toward death and destruction. It'll be a while before we see each other again, and I might not make it back." "Don't say that! You'll be fine." "I wish I had your confidence." James stood up, bumping his head on the roof of the tent. "Agghhhh, stinking..." He recovered his wits and headed for the door, turning around just before getting there. "I wish you the best of luck, my friend, and you'll be in my prayers." Then, as he exited the tent, Rand heard him whisper, "Say a prayer for me, too." -------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a grim three days, as cold winds blew and the clouds became gray. The roads were solid from the cold, so the transportation of goods and artillery wasn't a problem, but that factor ran both ways; at night the cold was intense, and the freezing ground was hard to just curl up on. And while the human Colonel wanted to maintain surprise, he didn't have the heart to watch his troops suffer through cold nights without campfires to warm them. And after making a small nest (as was the only fitting word) next to one of these fires, he had no complaints. Teeth chattering, wrapped in a blanket to cover his body, he listened as the others talked about their lives and complained occasionally about the cold. He felt a little jealous of them. They had fur covering their entire bodies, giving them an extra layer of thickness to insulate themselves; he had just skin, clothing, and a few blankets. Bright Star was currently saying, "I used to work on my parents' farm. It was tough work, but rewarding. I loved market day; it was time I could spend with friends as well as selling our produce." "I spent my days at the docks o' Manehattan. Loved the sea, an' tha clouds, o' course. Loved ta make art ou' of 'em." "Me, I knew I was going to be a Royal Guard from the day I first laid my eyes on a group of them; loyal, brave and true, all." "Ya all know my story; chess, chess, n' more chess!" James listened, but said nothing, just trying to remain warm by the fire. He crept a little closer to it over time, just trying to keep the cold at bay. Someone threw another log on the fire; some of the ashes and sparks fell on James, who grunted in annoyance and pulled the blanket even tighter around himself. "Sorry, Jimmy, didn' see ya there," White Knight exclaimed. "It's ok," the human replied quietly. "Hey, ya alright? Ya looked chilled to da bone." "Oh, it's nothing," James responded sarcastically, "it's just that I have an almost complete lack of fur to kill off the cold. Never mind me, just keep doing what you were doing." "Ohhh..." "I can see you have hair on your head James," Bright said inquisively. "Where's the rest of it?" "Never mind." "You don't have to suffer though it alone," Shield said, tossing something over to the Colonel. "Here, I don't need it." James picked up the extra blanket and covered himself. "Th-thanks." "Don't mention it." The Royal Guard sat back down on his logs. James sat down on his own log and waited for the fire to warm him further. As he stared into the fire, he could almost swear he could see ancient battles being waged; beofr ehe knew it, he was singing in the little Chinese he knew, with the lyrics from a song in the movie Red Cliff; Look, east the river flows Waves rolling over a thousand heroes Smile at this mountainous land Victory and defeat lost in dust and sand This land bids farewell Over ancient mountains a rain fell A heart full of things to say, but who to tell? A chance not easily bought The east wind borrowed and caught As time washes by, our footprints are all for naught Chi bi obscured in haze Where friends once parted ways Now only shine the moon's rays A boundless world so unfair Ancient dreams we cannot share The red sun has set countless times And the evening bell chimes The divided shall unite, the united divide In battle friends and ememies blur side by side Passion is these gray hair's cause To you I sing this song without pause Two great minds over wine did confide The law is the divided unite, the united divide This farewell's approach we cannot slow Nature's beauty gone with the melting snow As he paused (as was necessary to feel in time with the song), he noticed the others looking at him or looking into the fire with ears perked, with Silver Lining hanging on every word; perhaps he understood Chinese. It wouldn't surprise me. A boundless world so unfair Ancient dreams we cannot share The red sun has set countless times And the evening bell chimes The divided shall unite, the united divide In battle, host and guest blur side by side Passion is these gray hairs' cause So I sing this song without pause Two great minds over wine did confide The law is the divided unite, the united divide This farewell shall come too soon Yet far corners of the world share one moon. After he finished, there was silence. James put his cold hands over the fire. Silver held a piece of paper, on which he was writing, using his left hind leg to buffer it. "Tha was be-autiful, laddie", he said as he finished writing; clearly he had understood, and had written the lyrics down. "I think I migh' send this en to one o' my friends in the academy." "Why? What was he singing?" Bright asked, holding out a hoof to Silver, who obliged and gave it to him. As he read, hiis jaw dropped. "Oh my..." After a few minutes he passed it to Shield, who read it quietly and gave it back to Silver. The Guard's eye fell on an orange pegasus (who had apparently crawled up to the fire to listen), and he growled; he had never forgiven Jack tar for his actions during the Black Week. The pegasus, for his part, tired to look disinterested the instant he realized he had been detected. Hmmm... James rubbed his chin with his left hand. Maybe it's not too late to bury the hatchet with this guy after all. ----------------------------------------------------------- A Griffon soldier marched through the woods with his cohorts, confident that they would end this so-called war in record time. His green uniform and the flag his unit carried (a green flag with dark green swirls on it) identified him and his comrades as being from the Eastern Woodlands Clan, all proud, free, and loyal to Old Graywing, the clan leader. The soldier sniffed upon seeing the unit up ahead; it was from the Clan of the Plains, which was known for living in cities and making profits out of olive groves and other such wretched, money-making crops. The soldier felt confident his clan was superior to all others, especially those that were urban; surely his upbringing in the wilderness was proof that his clan of rough, hardy woodspeople was better than some puny, city-dwelling weaklings. The unit behind was loyal to King Raniero. Again he sniffed; the King had no direct control over his - or any - clan. The region under the King's control included the great city of Gryphos; that was one except to the soldier's detest of cities. It was practically holy ground to Griffons, and held the species' greatest art, cultural artifacts, and records of history. It was tradition for every Griffon to at least make the effort to visit the city as least once in their lives. "Alrigh' lads, let's rest." The soldier sat down, obeying his clanmate's order. He was famished. "Look, those guys ahead are still going!" "Let 'em; what do we care if they're all tired out later?" This was met by laughter by everyone. After a short meal, the officer ordered everyone back into the ranks; the King's personal troops obeyed the quickest, while the woodslanders were somewhat slower. Germ hatin' sissy boys, the soldier thought, sneering at the Royal unit's cleanliness. The march continued, with the sun climbing towards it's peak. It'll belong to us soon, the soldier thought. So far, nothing and no one had resisted them; sure, General Hawkfrost was reported as having been killed in action, along with most of his immediate command, but few had liked him, and he wasn't known for his brains. Not to mention he was loyal to the King over everything else, and rumors had abounded that he had had plans to centralize the army for the monarch, which hadn't made him many friends. "Wait, boys, halt!" The soldier obeyed, stepping over something on the ground... Wait. He looked at the object; it was a Griffon body in blue and purple uniform... a member of the Clan of the Plains. A crossbow bolt had lodged itself in the trooper's throat... but quarrels didn't throw themselves. The officer who had ordered the halt was kneeling down, inspecting another body. Now that he was actually looking, the soldier noticed a large number of bodies in blue and violet. Something flew from the trees and struck the officer in the chest; he crumpled with only a groan to mark his passing. The soldier felt something strike the left side of his head, and everything went black. -------------------------------------------------- James watched as the first bolts struck home, with numerous greencoats falling before they had time to form into any sort of line. The first unit of blue-and-purplecoats had walked into the ambush earlier, and most had fallen or panicked before they could muster a response; the shots they had fired had been ineffective, scoring few casualties. The Equestrian soldiers had been waiting for over two hours in the trees surrounding the small clearing for the fight to come. It had been over in minutes; he hadn't even had to use his artillery. This new group had some warning, whereas the previous one had none; although several had been shot, the rest were forming into lines of battle as best as they could, and some began to return fire randomly with crossbows of their own. Again, they scored few hits, but they were hitting back. Their formation didn't help them; they were perfect targets for the spread out pony troopers, who were arranged roughly in a semi-circle. And unbeknownst to them, more Equestrian soldiers were presently moving to cut of their retreat and turn the battle into a copy (of sorts) of Cannae. The green soldiers kept shooting back even as their comrades fell around them. They were also more adaptive than the batch before them, with some of them lying down, others crouching, others firing behind cover. A unit of red troopers dashed what was left of their line to the ground; redcoats ran right through the greencoats, bayonets fixed and ready as they charged. They were lead by an officer who looked almost exactly like his British counterpart over two hundred years ago in the American Revolution; he even wore a tricorn hat with a white feather on top. Many of them were hit without even trying to fire; maybe they had received orders not to shoot, maybe they had been told they could just win with the bayonet alone. If that was what they had been told, it needed rectifying; their losses testified to that. In spite of the casualties that had been inflicted on them, they kept coming, with no loss of spirit James could detect. If they got close enough to use their bayonets, they might disrupt the Equestrian attack enough to allow their comrades in other units to recover from the ambush. "All guns!" he yelled, "Fiiiiiiirrrrrrre!" A deafening roar met his ears as double-shotted canister from over a dozen guns decimated the foe's ranks all at once, bowling over many of those who had survived up until now and forcing the rest to take cover. This mighty blast finally convinced the remaining redcoats that discretion was sometimes the better part of valor; most of them broke, running for the trees at the other end of the clearing. A few of them retreated in order, with one doffing his hat toward the nearly-invisible Equestrian positions before falling back with his fellows. For all the good that will do them. Already more Griffon units were coming into the clearing, and some of them had some idea of where their opponents were located; officers were directing their fire, and screams began to rise, one by one, from areas they were shooting at. Come on... One of the Griffon soldiers in line suddenly spun around and toppled; another fell forward, with something resembling a stick from this distance quivering in his back... Yes! "We got them surrounded!" The enemy took longer to come to terms with that fact; some acted stupidly, ceasing whatever activity they had been up to and looking around, their heads erratically darting this way and that like those of birds back in Maine. A battery that was trying to set up was shot down, with the survivors taking cover under the guns they had tried to unlimber. Another red unit lost nearly half it's members before turning around to deal with the new threat. It was hardly a battle anymore. It wasn't quite a massacre either, as the enemy were trying to fight back, here and there inflicting a casualty on the Equestrians. It became clear to the Griffons they were cut off and surrounded; some threw off pieces of uniforms and tried to fly away, while others, more orderly, tried to break through the ring of attackers. Several volleys from crossbows showed them they couldn't. James began to feel pity for the enemy troops. Enough is enough. He turned to a tan pegasus, who was hlding a bugle. "Blow the call to cease fire," he said. The bugler nodded and blew on his horn. Slowly, the fire from the Equestrian lines began to slacken off and stop; the Griffons, confused and weary, followed suit. Perhaps they knew what was coming. James turned again to the bugler. "Get some out there to demand their surrender." The pegasus again nodded and flew off. A few minutes later a unicorn Guard stepped out of the trees. He was too far away for James to hear, but given the circumstances, he could guess the sentiment of it. Clearly, no one was in overall command of the Griffons; their commander must have fallen. Most of their officers looked more than ready to have their troops throw down their arms and at the very least get out of the war. However, a few, mostly of the red-coated variety, remained defiant, shouting what were obviously insults and provocations. Fortunately, most of the enemy began to put down their weapons and battle flags, and walked into the trees, with Equestrian soldiers guiding them the last few steps of the way. There had to be at least a few hundred marching into captivity. Which still left about a hundred soldiers in the middle of the clearing, with six of them having commandiered a cannon and pointing it somewhere close to James' position. "Surrender!" James called, bringing his hands up to amplify his call. "You can't expect to win this!" A loud boom and a whoosh as the cannonball flew over his head answered him. Blast it, now I'll have to finish them the hard way. He turned to a nearby battery. "Give them a couple volleys." Seconds later shells and cannonballs flew into the enemy force, with the cannon taking a direct hit; most of it's barrel flew off, leaving a broken piece of metal attached to two wheels... or rather, one wheel, as one of them had been torn off. That volley did what words had not; a Griffon rushed out of the ranks, waving his claw in the air in a clear gesture of surrender. After that, the Griffons were gave no more trouble, as weapons were thrown down, battle flags handed over, and the remainder forming into lines to be marched away. As the enemy were led away, ponies began to walk among their abandoned equipment, which would be added to their own arsenal. "Colonel," said a gray pegasus Guard, "you need to see this." The pony lead James over to the gun that had been destroyed in the last few moments of the battle. Hmmm, it looks just like any other... The thought was stopped dead by a detail he hadn't noticed before; a latch on the enemy gun, allowing the rear end of the barrel, the one facing friendly forces, to be opened up and loaded without any need of a rammer whatsoever. It was a breech loader. A gun that could potentially fire much faster than the artillery that he had at his disposal. "Get this to the R n' D teams at once." "Yes sir." Something fell on his nose, something cold. James lifted a hand to it and felt a liquid substance. Seconds later snow began to fall in earnest. Within minutes, white flakes had covered much of the battlefield, obscuring the dead and mangled Griffon soldiers and their equipment, as if someone wanted to put a blanket over something. At the very least, he thought, I won't have to look at their lifeless corpses for a while.