//------------------------------// // Chapter 33; Shattered jade // Story: The War of 1002 // by Fireheart 1945 //------------------------------// When they fired that first, terrible volley, everyone in the first rank, with practically no exceptions, fell to the ground at once. It took all the courage I could muster to go on, seeing them lying there as though even in death they desired some form of military formation. Too many of those faces, in the brief seconds I saw them, were far too young. - Griffon survivor of the battle for Fort Nightshade, after the war. James and Shining Armor followed the private to Fort Nightshade, the occasional artillery round flying overhead as they walked. It took them over an hour to reach their destination, and artillery wasn't the only problem; damage to the trails and roads, as well as unexploded shells that were being defused by bomb squads, kept them fro moving that far that fast. However, when the two generals reached the walls of Fort Nightshade, there was no doubt in James' mind; this fort was a goner. A massive hole in it's northern wall was all too clear. What made it worse was the fact that the ammunition dump was dreadfully exposed; it was plain luck - or God's will - that hostile shells hadn't blown the whole place sky high. James turned to the messenger. "How long has this breach existed?" "About an hour and a half, sir, maybe two hours. We'd taken a pounding by shells, shells and more shells, with a few rocks tossed in for good measure. Don't know what we're gonna do about this." James put a hand to his chin, surveying the fort. Clearly the garrison could not stay here, not unless they wanted to be blown up, something he doubted very much. Of course, more earth and timber could be used to shore up the gap, but the enemy could choose to continue their bombardment while they were doing so, and if a projectile of sufficient mass and speed struck right there... We can't just abandon this place, that would leave a big weakness in our lines, and give the enemy a foothold close to the city, too close for my liking, not to mention it took months to build this fortress to where it was earlier today. As he was thinking, Shining ruefully asked, "You're thinking about giving up this fort." "I'm trying to think of ways of not doing that, believe it or not." He turned around, trying to measure how the terrain would feature into the defense if that was necessary. And to think I could be at home, safe in bed right now. There was some forest between here and the city, so that was good; what wasn't good was that only a mile of distance between here and Trottingham wasn't much to fall back on. One idea was to build trenches just to the front of the fort, connect them to the existing trench lines, and man those rather than just abandon the position wholesale; the guns and the ammunition could be moved to better locations, and he wouldn't be giving up any territory; the fort itself could still be garrisoned, although without the cannons and the ammunition for them it would be much harder to defend against ground attack. Again, enemy action would be at least partially responsible for what would and wouldn't be done. He detailed the idea to Shining Armor, who nodded. "That doesn't sound half bad." "Still risky; this place is a weakness in our lines if ever I saw one." "Better than losing it." Shining said this with an edge. Mentally sighing, James didn't answer. Whatever the outcome of this siege, their friendship had taken a beating. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "You're sure you have this right?" Grayfeather demanded from the soldier before him. "Yes General; there is a large breach in the fort that is on their northeastern defenses. Unfortunately they've already begun moving the ammunition and heavy guns out, so there's little chance of setting off a massive explosion." The General just grunted. He'd expected no less. "Is there anything else?" "Yes sir; they've begun digging trenches in front of the fortress. They don't intend to abandon the area." "It's still a weak point, a brush we can tar them with." "True, but if we can see it, they have too." "That can't be avoided, I'm afraid. Still, I intend to strike the killing blow there." He moved another piece on the map before him into place, then another after it. "Send for the commanders of 2nd and 5th Divisions." "Generals Raymond and Barlow, sir?" "Yes. Now off with you." He waved his claw in dismissal, and the other soldier, taking the hint as well as the order, bowed and left. After a while, Raymond and Barlow were in the tent with him. Raymond was tall and skinny, and looked more or less like a peasant farmer; that was what he had been before the conflict, but his courage and skill in battle had elevated him to general. Barlow was aristocratic, short, and (noticeably) fat, but he had a better education than the brawny Raymond. Raymond was from a backwoods clan, Barlow from an urban one. Despite their differences, they had worked well together, and the General had yet to hear of an open rivalry between them. Of course, in a clan-based society, that wasn't necessarily the case, but Grayfeather felt certain enough of it in order to trust them. "Ya wanted ta see us, sir?" Raymond said, not bothering to salute. Barlow grunted in discomfort, but didn't correct his colleague. Grayfeather couldn't care less about the slump in discipline he'd just witnessed. "You are to bring your divisions to the points designated," he commanded, waving his claw at the map. Both generals looked at it, and both nodded. "I suppose this means we're about to launch the main attack?" Barlow asked, with the high-class accent that came from someone of his decent. "You have it. The ponies were forced to partially abandon one of their forts due to a breach we made in the walls. They're building trenches in front of it to try and make up for it." "If they're out of their breastworks, we can break 'em easy," Raymond claimed confidently. Grayfeather pointed a claw at him. "Don't get overconfident. One thing I've had to admit in recent days was that the Equestrians, despite their love of peace, are at least determined in war, as well as innovative." "Largely due to that two-legged bandit chief they hired to fight for them," Barlow put in. "True, but he can't be everywhere. And everywhere he isn't, they still fight as well as they would have otherwise." "I suppose you want another massive charge, then?" Barlow looked uncomfortable. Although his troops liked him (he didn't rub their noses in the fact that he was of noble blood), he didn't like leading from the front, with his corpulent body being the reason why. "After the biggest artillery bombardment this war has seen, after blasting them from the sky, yes, we'll have your two divisions take the fort and break their lines. After that, the city should be open." Raymond shrugged. "If I can control the Minotaurs n' dogs I got, we might do it. Got a lot o' new boys, but many o' 'em are barely sixteen, let alone experienced." "I have the same problems as General Raymond," Barlow concurred. "Too many of my troops are mercenaries, more eager for blood and gold than victory, and of the Griffons I actually lead, far too many of them are too young, if any one cares what I think." Grayfeather heaved a massive shrug and sighed. "I sympathize with you, gentlemen, but this is what we have. I'm sure you're all too aware of the consequences of losing this fight." Raymond came to the point at once. "We lose the damned war, on account of there ain't anymore bodies to replace what we got, and them ponies do." Barlow looked shocked at the boldness of his fellow general. Nonetheless, he added, "Although I doubt it will be as bad as General Raymond says, I must say that I have great difficulty seeing our victory come to light should we falter here." That translates into, "I agree wholeheartedly with what Raymond said, but I haven't the courage to say it aloud, because maybe if I don't say it, maybe it won't come true." Nodding, Grayfeather added, "Don't forget, our performance here will also determine the outcome on the diplomatic field. Many of the zebra tribes have aligned with the Equestrians in denouncing our invasion, and Saddle Arabia has been most disagreeable with his Majesty the King since the onset of the war. Should victory elude our grasp, I fear they will do much more than merely grumble." "Them Saddle Arabians are practically ponies themselves," Raymond said, discomforted. "They all got four hooves and long faces anyway, one way or another. Not afraid o' no zebras, not with them bringin' wood spears into the fight." "It's a risk we cannot take. And we must take the city as soon as we can; nothing else matters now." Grayfeather stood up. "I expect your divisions to be in position by this time the following day." Raymond looked like he was about to complain, then thought better of it. Barlow, however, exclaimed, "Sir, that isn't enough time for my troops to..." "That isn't the problem. You just don't like moving fast," Grayfeather snapped. "It isn't my fault that you spend your days drinking wine and eating everything in sight." "Sir, you insult me; I will demand compensation!" "If you don't bring your division to the place I specified in time, you'll get more 'compensation' than you bargained for." Barlow drew his sword. "I demand you duel me here and now sir, to.." "No. You can take that sword and shove it up your arse. I will not duel you. And as I was placed in command by the King himself, you would be wise to consider what would happen if you tired to murder me in my sleep." "I would never..." "Of course you wouldn't. You haven't the speed to move faster than a one-legged dog." Barlow gasped in shock and anger. Grayfeather didn't care; well, actually, that wasn't quite true. In fact, he was more than a little amused by the fat Griffon officer trying to menace him right now. "You are both dismissed. And remember, hurry; speed is of the essence." The other two commanders both left the tent, Barlow angered but at least sober enough to realize he wouldn't win here, Raymond looking disconcerted but quiet. Grayfeather looked back to his map. Soon, he thought. Soon. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- James moved a blue block on his map up to the location of Fort Nightshade; three red enemy blocks were lined up on the other side. "That's all we can bring up, along with the troops originally stationed there," he said to his division commanders. "I doubt we can bring up more without critically weakening our lines in other places." Colonel Barrel raised a hoof. "Yes?" "Sir, will this be the only attack they'll make?" "No; if they're good, and we have to assume they are, they'll throw in other assaults of lesser strength and ferocity to keep our other units in place. But make no mistake; their strength will be deployed against Fort Nightshade." The ponies in the group looked disconcerted. "Is it true they've gotten reinforcements?" James sighed. "Yes, they have. From what scouts have said, most of them are either youths just out of their teen years or Griffons just short of retirement age." "That's still more numbers in their ranks." "We have to repel this assault," Shining Armor broke in. "Nothing else matters." James felt like bursting with frustration. The city was a lost cause, or close enough to it as to be no difference. Our chances of winning here are like those of Lee winning at Petersburg, and look at what happened when he tried. He could still remember pictures of the last few days at Petersburg, remembering pictures of adolescent Confederate defenders dead in Fort Mahone. He seriously hoped the army he led didn't end up like them. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Major General Raymond of the Griffon Army stood silently, watching the fortress to the southwest. It was still dark, but the time was drawing near for the assault to begin. At dawn, the attack was to begin. He still had major consternations regarding the upcoming battle. First and foremost were the rowdy mercenaries that formed at least 40-45% of his command. Minotaurs had been known to disobey orders that stressed patience, and Diamond dogs were short of any courage whatsoever. And even not counting them, perhaps half of the Griffons he actually led still had feathers from childhood in their ears, and some hadn't even been long out of school (if they had even had and education in the first place). Most of them hadn't seen battle before, and were all to eager to "see the elephant," as though war were a damned circus act. He pitied them, knowing that the elephant they would see was hardly glorious, nor was the fun they imagined it to be. He heard clawsteps coming from behind. "General Barlow," he said without premonition. He imagined his colleague nodding. "Yes." Raymond turned around. "What brings you here?" Barlow had a serious expression on his face. Despite the pudgy belly, he wasn't stupid or incompetent. "I have great worries about the offensive we have been called upon to lead. I'm sure your division is as patchy as mine, so I don't have to point them out to you." Raymond nodded. "Half my real boys should still be at home, you mean." "Yes, and the bandits we so erroneously call soldiers we've mixed in among them. It's beyond me why we still bother paying them, considering how much trouble they cause. I can hardly sleep a wink at night, with all the wild parties those drunken Minotaurs throw." Barlow made a disgusted face, which quickly reformed back to the look of worry he'd previously had. "And another head-on attack like the general is demanding will not be cheap. The new fish have no idea what will befall them." "I can't see this fight being cheap either... even with the bombardment about to go in." "Even then." Barlow began studying his face carefully. "Tell me, my friend; how did you become an officer, if you don't mind my asking? You have a peasant's blood, but you fight and lead like a member of the nobility." Raymond shrugged. "I was in the war from the beginning, led from the front, and ranked up. And everyone else "better qualified" was either bad, got fired, or got killed. General Grayfeather thought it was a good idea." "General Grayfeather." Barlow pronounced the name and the title with the utmost contempt. "His blatant assault on my honor demands repayment; already his slurs have reached the ears of my troops, and some of them, mainly the bandit troops we've hired, mock me, staining my reputation and dragging my name in the dirt." Raymond didn't say anything on that juncture, not least because he quietly agreed that Barlow was indeed quite fat. "So what're you gonna do about it?" Barlow looked toward the pony-held fortress. "I intend to wipe away these insults by deed. I will lead my troops this day on the field, and either emerge victorious, or die trying." Now it was Raymond's turn to look worried. "You sure that's a good idea?" "I have no choice if I wish to regain everyone's respect. Alright, curse it, I may enjoy my meals a little too much; that much I will admit. However, if it's a choice between staying in my tent while this fight rages and doing the best for my men, I have little alternative, especially given the wretched lies the general has thrown upon my name." "Well, if there isn't anything I can say to change your mind.." "None." Barlow stood up straight, a gesture that was almost as much comedic as it was regal. "This day I shall win the fortress we've been assigned to take, or I shall perish obeying my orders." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The day dawned. The sun rose in the east, casting golden rays over the horizon. The forests in the distance, or what was left of them, were still just dark shapes, rising from the ground and forming a sea of shadows on the skyline. White Knight watched the dark forest, a knot forming in his belly. Dying wasn't an easy thing to face, and never had been, at least not for him. Somewhere in those woods an invading army was making the final plans for it's killing blow, everyone here knew it. Cannons began to belch from far off; more joined in, a continuous roar from the northeast. Knight ducked behind the walls as rocks, javelins, and shells began landing, the explosions tearing at his ears. He'd been through bombardments before. But this... all he could feel was pure terror as the ground shook, as though in mortal pain. Knight screamed as dirt and rubble flew skyward; he didn't care about his dignity at this point, and neither did anypony else; almost everyone else was making noise, not all of it from plain fear. Missile after missile struck the earth, rending it and blasting craters into the ground. He heard a rumble and saw part of the wall farther south crumble, taking the ponies lying on it with it; luckily for them, it wasn't a long fall. It seemed to last forever. He was sure the end of the world was upon them, as shells and other projectiles rained down as though from the very heavens; to be outside a trench or wall was death. Finally, though, the deluge began to slacken off, then mercifully ceased altogether. He stopped screaming - he had become hoarse from it - and, after few minutes of quiet, got to his hooves and looked things over. The trenches were largely intact, but the ground around them had been pulverized as though by the hammer of an enraged 200-foot tall giant. The walls of the fort were smashed almost beyond recognition, although they had done their job of protecting the soldiers taking cover behind them. The area looked almost like the moon except for the brown earth and wrecked forest in the distance. From far away came the sound of drums, fifes, and bugles. "Get up! Here they come!" Knight took up his matchlock, which appeared to be the worse for wear; he hoped it would function properly. He began loading at once, as did everypony else. Already the mighty host, determined to take the fort and destroy all those defending it, was in sight, and gaining ground by the second. In various colors and uniforms were their ranks clothed; Minotaurs, Diamond dogs, and Griffons alike, all in their respective units, moved, though not in complete unison, toward the fortress; their battle cries split the air even from here. Flags and banners were hoisted in the breeze, waving back and forth as the army that carried them came all the closer. Equestrian artillery began to fire, some of them guns that had been removed from the fort. Explosions began tearing holes in the oncoming lines, bodies flying through the air along with earth and rock. Some in the enemy lines fired back, but their weren't in range of their targets, and their shots fell short of the defenders. "Hold!" Knight took aim, steadying his gun against the fort wall. "Hold!" He waited, as his target, a Diamond dog clutching a spear, came closer. "HOLD!" On they came, still screeching, yowling, and bellowing to the skies. "FIRE!!!" Knight fired, along with everypony else; the cloud of smoke that erupted blocked his view of the field for several seconds. When it cleared enough for him to see, he saw that almost the entire front rank of the enemy had ceased to exist; they were down, most silent and still but some howling with pain. The remaining foes, still the majority, charged over the bodies of the fallen. He reloaded as fast as he could; by then the invaders were too close to easily miss. He raised the gun and barely needed to aim before firing, as there were just too many of them in too tight a formation to miss very easily. The second devastating volley by the defenders again obliterated the entirely of the foes in the first ranks, dropping hundreds easily in seconds, their bodies tripping up those behind them. By then, guns were of no further use for those in the trenches in front of the fort; already spears and swords flashed, and metal clanged against metal. Knight, though, as well as other ponies on the walls, still had clear shots at other enemy warriors who had yet to reach the front lines, and he was able to fire off another round. By then, more Griffons and mercenaries were in the trenches than he could count; the front line was simply being swamped with enemy bodies, and not all of them were waiting for the trenches to be cleared before moving on the fort. There was no more time to reload. He dropped his gun and picked up his spear. An over-eager Griffon flew up in front of him. before the bird could do anything, he lashed out, and the enemy warrior let out a screech as he plummeted to the ground. Furious Minotaurs began placing ladders on the walls, scrambling up them as fast as they could. While several of them were slain trying to climb up, some of them survived long enough to get onto the walls and begin attacking the Equestrian defenders. More Griffons flew onto the walls, slashing with swords, stabbing with spears, and a few blasting away with pistols. Another bird fell before his spear, but a dog was on him faster than he could recover. They both went over the wall into the fort. There was a dull crunching noise as Knight landed, and found that he had landed on his foe, which had had good results for him but not for the luckless dog. He got back up. Already the walls were being flooded with enemy warriors to the point in cases where it was difficult to swing a weapon at all. Occasionally a soldier from one side or the other would fall off the wall; that was literally how crowded it was. Some Griffons used their wings to land inside the fort proper, allowing them to flank the defenders from multiple angles. We can't hold. That was all too obvious. Even as he was thinking that the walls were falling to enemy control, and the defenders had no capacity to regain them; indeed it was all they could do to hold onto what they still held, but step by step they were being forced back. He galloped for the rear entrance, direly wishing to live. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- James watched from the tower on the city hall and the fighting raged all over the fort. Smoke had begun to partially obscure his sight of the battle, but what he could see was clear enough; the defenders were being overrun by sheer numbers. "Doesn't look good, sir," Crystal Clear said from his right. "We're not going to hold, and they're hitting us everywhere to stop us from sending reinforcements." "General Armor will be counter-attacking any moment now; maybe they'll be able to turn the tide." "Maybe." Crystal's tone said he didn't believe it. James didn't have his hopes up either. He brought up his binoculars again, observing the raging conflict once more. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Shining Armor was in full battle gear, his sword held in his hoof as he regarded the division one last time. About a full company were Royal Guards; the rest were regulars. Not that he had any contempt for the unarmored soldiers; they had proved they were just as determined as the Guard, even if they didn't have the armor or the training. They'd need every soldier they could get; Fort Nightshade was falling, and it was up to them ensure that it held. Banners waved in the wind, proud flags closing and disclosing as the breeze caught them. He waved the sword toward the front; "Forward!" He ran toward the fort. The division came behind him, running a fast as they could. With a loud chorus of yells, battle cries, and cheers the army raced toward Fort Nightshade. Within minutes the battlements were in sight. Small groups of ponies struggled against a horde of Griffons, dogs, and Minotaurs. The clang of steel against steel was unmistakable. "Come on!" -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- White Knight swung with all his might, and his spear again struck flesh; a Minotaur fell off the walls into the enclosure, clutching his belly and yelling as he plummeted to the ground. Knight didn't know how much longer he could go on. After fighting for half an hour straight, he was exhausted, and there seemed to be as many enemies as there ever had been. The battle was taking it's toll on him, along with everyone else who had been fighting. As far as he could tell, the defenders had given a lot better than they'd got, but the attackers could afford the losses far better than they could. He heard wild yells coming from the west; he was able to spare a glance in that direction, and he saw thousands of ponies running up from there. He gave a hopeful shout of his own before a sword slicing past his ear reminded him where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. Already pegasi from the reinforcing army had taken flight and were approaching the walls; most of them had firearms, which they aimed as well as they could, getting close to the walls before firing. Their shots weren't the most accurate, but considering the fact that the enemy were almost everywhere, this made little difference. The enemy staggered under the weight of the offensive; caught unawares in the effort to annihilate the defending forces, the Griffons and their mercenaries were themselves being annihilated by the counterattack. Knight leaned against the wall, glad for the respite, as friendly forces started retaking the fortress. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Raymond panted heavily, leaning on his sword as General Barlow was laid on the ground on a stretcher. "I hope you are not seriously hurt, sir," he said. "I doubt this injury will threaten my life, but alas..." Barlow rubbed his head. His leg had taken a sword slash, and it was barely capable of being saved as it was. The medics working on him hadn't known whether he would live through it. "General Grayfeather will have both our heads if we don't take that accused fortress." "I don't think he'll go that far, but still, you're right. All's we got left is reserves." "You mean most of the underage soldiers. I will not bring them into this fight." "That is not your decision to make," came a raspy voice. Everyone present turned to the see Grayfeather standing behind them, with four red-coated guards at his back. "It is mine. And I order you to send them forward, regardless of your personal feelings." "I will not..." "You will. This is your last chance to maintain command of your division, general. I have some friends of the king with me who will relieve you of it, should you refuse." "Curse you... I'll do it, damn you to hell, general, I'll do it, and when they die, I will place the blame of their premature deaths squarely on your head!" Barlow all but shouted the last few words, pointing an accusing claw at the general. "You have no right to blame me for your incompetence," the general replied. Barlow let out a furious eagle's cry, which the general ignored. "As it is, you've said enough for me to report to the king. I doubt you'll rise higher in rank for the duration of the war. And if you know what's good for you, you'll remain silent." "Do you not think you deserve shaming for putting chicks barely out of adolescence into battle?" "It is what's necessary for eternal glory. And I can assure you, you won't partake in any of it, not for opposing me." Grayfeather turned around. "This war will be won. And I shall be the one to win it." He walked slowly away. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Shining Armor wiped his brow. After thirty minutes of intense combat, it looked as if the fort would be retaken. Although the Griffons had managed to reform after being hit, they were being driven back in a fierce struggle. It wouldn't be long before... "Captain!" a member of the Guard called out, "more of them coming from the northeast!" And just when we were doing so well. He ran onto the fort's northern wall to look for himself. His mouth opened wide in shock. Wave after wave of Griffon foot soldiers were charging, flags waving back and forth, at the fort, without any fear or relent whatsoever. There had to be thousands of them. Most of them were armed with melee weapons rather than crossbows and firearms, but these would be more than sufficient if they came to close quarters. He waved a hoof at the Guard, who had followed him. "Get every cannon we have to fire at them!" "Sir, it won't be enough to stop them." "Just do it!" "Yes sir." The Guard, a pegasus, flew off to fulfill the order. Deep in his heart, Shining knew it wouldn't be enough. Artillery alone had never stopped a full on charge. But he didn't think he could stand the guilt of being the general who lost Trottingham; it was a major city, a commercial center, and it's fall would be a massive blow to the country. Worse, and more importantly, the population of the city would be under the boot of an enemy who had already proved it was willing to mistreat them. Well before the artillery began firing, the Griffons had reached the walls and were either climbing over them or flying into the fort under their own wing power. And there were masses still bunched up behind them, hardly able to move in any direction other than forward due to those still coming from the rear. When the batteries near the fort did open fire, they wreaked massive damage; they could hardly be expected to do less against such bunched targets. It didn't stop those who had already gotten inside. Once again, the tide turned in favor of the enemy. Ponies who moments before had been on the verge of winning a hard fought fight were now forced to desperately defend themselves, just trying to survive the onslaught. As the fighting went on, ponies were overcome by sheer numbers, collapsing in death as the breath left their bodies. It was hopeless. The battle couldn't be won, not by Equestria. He was about to call retreat from the rear wall when a Griffon came flying in from out of the blue and pounced, pushing him over the wall. For a brief second his mind refused to comprehend what had just happened. Then he hit the ground. His left hind leg exploded in pain, and he let out a cry. The Griffon who had pushed him landed in front of him, brandishing a sword. The enemy soldier raised it to strike... BANG! The warrior stopped moving, as if he had hit a brick wall. He collapsed, falling over backward as he died. Shining looked around, but before he could identify who had saved him he felt strong arms grasp his front legs and drag him backward. He looked up. "James!" "You might be stubborn, but your carcass is worth saving," the human responded as he continued to drag his fellow general back toward friendly lines. "Look, about the other day..." "Let's focus on not dying right now, and leave the apologies for later." James picked up a matchlock singlehandedly and blasted another Griffon who tried to attack them. "Here, General, I'll take the Captain." Shining smiled at his former title; it was one he enjoyed much more than general. "Alright, Crystal, just get him back to the town; we're pulling out as soon as we can." "What about you, sir?" "I'll find a way back; trust me." He felt himself being raised onto Crystal's back. "Go, Crystal, fly like the wind!" The pegasus Guard took off, and Shining felt the wind brush against his legs as he was carried to safety. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The help he had given his fellow general not withstanding, James knew his chances of escape were slim. He didn't have wings, and he didn't have the speed to keep up with his own soldiers. And as the army began to fall back, the Griffons followed them; they were tired out, true, but so were most of the troops they were chasing. And even with that being true, they outstripped any pace he could set. He looked around in desperation, hoping to find something he could use to outstrip the enemy hordes. He heard hoofbeats to his right, and a red shape stopped right next to him. "Quick, on mah back!" Big Mac yelled. James wasted no time in doing so, whipping his right leg over the back of the red stallion. Before he could even get comfortable, the big farm pony took off at full speed, and James had to cling on him for dear life. The fact that Big Mac hadn't taken off the yoke he habitually wore when he came into the army had it harder to lean forward without being poked in the eye by one of the two short metal rods sticking up out of it. The ride seemed longer than it probably was. James had to readjust his position multiple times, and quarrels and bullets flew past them as Mac drove straight for the city. The pony also took the time to dodge obstacles; time after time James nearly fell off, only to just barely hold on each time. In another setting, in more peaceful times, he might have enjoyed the ride; as it was, he was just trying to hold on and stay alive. At one point, he noticed a discarded gun lying just ahead, and snatched it up; that almost stretched him out on the ground, but it saved him too; a bullet zipped through the space his head would have been. A loud screech made him turn around; a Griffon was sweeping down on him from the sky. He turned, and aimed as best as he could. Time seemed to stand still. As he depressed the trigger, he saw that the enemy warrior looked young, between teenage and adult. He saw the fear in the warrior's eyes as the hammer on the matchlock fell. By then it was too late to stop the sequence. The gun roared, and the Griffon flew backwards, clutching at it's stomach. James almost fell off Big Mac's back again, but managed again to stay o. The gun slipped from James' fingers, and crashed against the ground. More gunshots came from up ahead. When James looked to see, there was a line of Equestrian troops forming to his front, shooting at the pursuers. Big Mac jumped over the line, again nearly unseating James as he came back down to earth. The remainder of the ride was more peaceful, although the fast pace the stallion kept up made James nervous. And no matter what else he could say, he wasn't proud of turning his back to the enemy, however necessary it may have been. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Big Macintosh finally approached the field hospital. When he reached it, he stopped. James jumped off his back. "Thanks." "Eeyup." The big pony looked glad just to be safe, however temporary the respite was. "If you can gather together anyone from your unit and get them together again, I would be grateful." "Eeyup." With that, the red stallion raced away. James walked into the big tent where some of the wounded were being kept. His heart sank upon realizing that many of the wounded hadn't had time to be evacuated, and they would be prisoners of the enemy right now. He shook himself out of that line of thinking. It wasn't helpful. And there was a big issue he had to take care of at once. Shining Armor was lying on a bed. His leg had been bandaged, and he was surrounded by doctors and medics. When James approached, one of them, a brown stallion, waved a hoof to stop him. "Sir, General Armor has suffered a fractured leg. It'll heal, but it will take time." "We don't have time. I need to speak with him now." "It's fine," Shining said, and waved them back. "I have a feeling I know what you're going to say." "Yeah. We have to get the hell out of dodge, now." The white unicorn stallion sighed. "I don't like it either. I didn't like falling back before the Changelings. I hated to fall back when we lost at Sugar Cane River. But it's only going to get worse the longer we wait. With the big hole they've torn in our defenses, retreat is no longer compulsory; it's 100% mandatory." There was a long period of silence. James could feel everyone else in the tent listening, waiting for the answer. Finally, sighing again, Shining replied, "I guess we have no choice." James nodded. "I sent out orders to prepare for withdrawal. Tonight, our best units will break through in the west, and pull out. We'll take as many civilians we can with us as is reasonably possible." "Okay." "We still have a bad leg to tend to, sirs," one of the medics said loudly. "You can discuss this later." "Fine." To Shining Armor, he added, "See you on the other side." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ General Raymond looked, horrified, at the remains of his division. The 2nd had been pummeled, losing over 45% of it's entire strength in the assault. The 5th had fared even worse, losing over half it's personnel in killed and wounded. That translated into well over ten thousand casualties. All this for a piece of dirt and lumber? True, hundreds of ponies had been captured, and thousands more slain or wounded themselves, but nowhere near the number their foes had hit with. Barlow, with a heavily bandaged leg and walking with a cane, surveyed the carnage. "How could it possibly be that we lost so many in one day, Raymond!? How?" "Don't look at me; I didn't order it." "You're right; I did," came the same raspy voice as earlier. Neither of them had to turn around to realize Grayfeather had arrived on the scene. "And we have won this city because of it." "And how do you intend to keep them from escaping from the city?" Barlow demanded. "My division has been massacred, massacred, General!" "Mine's been mauled," Raymond added. "Don't think I could get the boys to move if I wanted to, they're tuckered out." "I have other units preparing to cut them off if they try. I wouldn't worry; the enemy are finished." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- James and the leading officers in the army gathered around the map. James pushed two blocks into position on the western edge of the defensive lines. "Their troops to our rear haven't been reinforced yet. Our scouts have confirmed that their units aren't in consolidated positions. We should be able to break out easily." "When do you propose to do so sir?" "Tonight." There were more than a few looks of consternation. "Sir," a colonel said worriedly, "I'm not sure we can do that; that would require us moving out of our defenses some time before the breakout, and if we do that, they'll know what we're doing and attack from every direction." "I don't think it will be quite as bad as that; for one thing, their communications take longer than ours to reach their destinations. For another, we still have plenty of dummy soldiers from the winter war and before; we'll man the walls with those, and some dummy guns as well. I want everything we can take with us to come with us." Walking around the map, he pointed out the two units that were to lead the attack. "1st and 5th divisions will attack in this direction," he said, moving the blocks as he did so, so that they moved forward. "After them will come the units mauled during today's earlier action, followed by the remaining forces." "What about the civilians?" "They'll go along with the damaged units. In this way our troops will form a wall of soldiers around our wounded and around the females and children who are going to leave." He took a deep breath. "I doubt we will be able to take them all with us, so priorities are children first, followed by mares and, if we have room, stallions." "Why can't we take them all?" "Because we have maybe twenty, twenty-three thousand trying to protect over three hundred thousand. We don't have the numbers to look after them all." He heard disconcerted voices mumbling, but none of them disagreed. He would have felt a little better if some of them had. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bright Star watched the moon rise over the mangled woods. The white-gray celestial body looked ironically peaceful in comparison with the battered landscape, and nopony complained about it, not with the battle that was about to commence. More death, as if this stupid war hasn't seen enough of it. It really was stupid; the only reason for it were the invasions by first the Changelings, then the Griffons. It was all about greed and pride, nothing more. He listened to the officers as they whispered orders. Shouting had been forbidden as per the Generals' orders in order to avoid detection. Everypony was being careful not to make any noise. At the wave of an officer's hoof, the troops began moving out. Bright strode forward on three hooves, the fourth keeping his matchlock over his shoulder. Shoulder to shoulder the line advanced; even in the moonlight the army seemed proud and defiant to the last. For about half an hour, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Bright didn't know what was up; after the attack today, he would have expected the opposing generals to have at least done something to try and prevent their escape. "Halt; was ist los?" The call of the sentry was met by a gunshot; the enemy soldier cried out as he fell. "Come on boys! Roll over 'em!" Bright surged forward with the rest of them, the gun now off his shoulder and raised ready to fire. For a couple minutes, there was no one else to challenge other than that first sentry. Then, two Griffons emerged from the woods. Clearly, they had been expecting a small raiding group; their eyes widened in shock at the army about to roll over them. They were brave, of that there was no question; they both raised their weapons to fire when they got over their surprise. That did them no good at all; several soldiers fired at them, and they both went down. "Advance!" The advantage of surprise now gone, furious shouts erupted from the throats of every soldier as they broke into a fast charge. More Griffons and a few Diamond dogs broke from the treeline; like the two individuals before them, they obviously had trouble comprehending the fact that a massive force was coming to roll over them. The dogs ran as soon as they got the chance; the Griffons tried to fight back, only to get the same reception as the three before them. As the ponies raced into the woods, more scattered groups of enemy warriors revealed themselves. Again, they tried to resist. Again they were cut down before they were able to fire off more than a few shots. The general disbelief at the feeble resistance offered so far spread through the ranks. Was this really all the enemy had? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- General Grayfeather sat at his table. He was about to enjoy a cup of tea in celebration of the victory he was about to win. By this time tomorrow, the units he'd sent to block the Equestrians' escape routes would be fully entrenched and in place, and all he'd have to do was wait for the surrender. He brought the cup to his beak and was on the verge of tasting the sweet beverage within when he paused. The sound of gunfire, distant but clearly audible, had broken out. He got up, replacing the cup on the table, and walked out, looking a the city he was besieging. What was going on? Were the ponies trying to retake the fort by the cover of night? He turned to one of the guards at the door. "Find out what's going on." The guard nodded and flew off at once. For about thirty minutes the general paced outside, wondering what on earth was going on. Finally, the guard came back. "Not sure exactly what's going on, but we know the western defenses are under attack." "By how many?" "That's uncertain, sir. At least a thousand, if you would have me guess." Grayfeather almost felt his heart almost stop. If the enemy were trying to escape tonight, they wouldn't just throw a thousand soldiers into it; they'd throw everything they had at him. And the divisions sent to block either weren't in position or they were otherwise out of position. "Send someone to confirm this, then order the units on either side of the breakout to attack at once!" "Yes sir." The guard again flew away. The general leaned against the wreck of a nearby tree. He hadn't expected the bloodied enemy to try an escape before properly tending to their wounded. He had been certain it would take three days for them to be ready for such a move, and by that time it would have been far too late. But now... Now he would have to see how things turned out. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bright Star fired once more. More enemy warriors, trying in vain to halt the advance, fell, some injured and crying out in pain, others lying quite still. The Equestrian army was advancing with only light casualties; the enemy had had no clue of the hammer blow that was going to strike them until it was too late to hit back effectively. Now many of them were dead, prisoners, or fleeing from the field. Why can't it be like this the rest of the time? he pondered during a lull in the fighting. The answer was, of course, that this time the enemy had been hit in the weakest part of their perimeter, and had been taken by surprise. Any other time, the Equestrians would likely have been halted long before now. Another batch of a hundred or so Griffons, dressed in bright red, opened fire from up ahead. Some their shots struck home, with screams of anguish from those hit. The return fire, however, almost obliterated the tiny defending force; most of their number dropped, some hit by more than one projectile. Those who remained wisely decided to withdraw. More gunfire sounded from the left and toward the rear. Nervously, Bright looked back. As far as he could see, there wasn't a hidden flanking force that had hit them. No, now that he was paying better attention, the gunfire was coming from farther away. "What's going on, Colonel?" asked another private in the ranks. "I would want to hazard a guess," Colonel Barrel answered. "The best I can tell is that they're trying to cut us off with a flank attack. Best thing we can do right now is stick to the plan. We'll keep going. There are over twenty thousand of us, enough to beat off a flank attack, and we have civilians to pave the way for." Bright and the other soldier nodded, but he still felt nervous. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Are you sure you can hold, colonel?" James asked. "I think I can, if it's only a regiment," Colonel Sand Storm answered. "If you're confident in your belief that you can repel the attack, then we'll continue with the operation as planned. "That's the smartest thing I can think of doing right now, sir; gone too far to quit now." "Damn right." So far, the ponies had succeeded beyond what he had expected. There had been far less resistance than scouts had said there would be. Perhaps it was surprise and the fact that the entire Equestrian army had been poured into this assault. He lifted his head and looked west. Either this was a big trap, or they really had smashed a hole in the enemy line. He would find that out soon enough. Oh Jesus, please ensure our path to freedom is clear, he prayed silently. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Why haven't our northern forces joined the attack?" Grayfeather fumed. "They're probably tired, sir, or else they didn't get the message yet," an aide answered. The General felt like blowing a fuse. So far, only a regiment had managed to get into action, flanking the escaping army from the south, and from all indications they hadn't got far. A Griffon messenger flew into the tent. "Sir, General Whiteclaw asks to confirm your order." "What!?! Did he even begin to move!?" "No sir. He wanted confirmation of your orders before doing anything." "Inform him that he is no longer in command. Then give command to his second in command and have him send the attack in." "Yes sir." Seeing that his commander was just barely in control of his rage, the messenger took the hint and flew off as fast as he could. Grayfeather pounded his fist on the table. He knew that any force that went in now was, in all likelihood, to be too late to stop the enemy from escaping. The best he could hope for was that he could inflict casualties and ensure the fall of the city. He walked outside the tent and furiously shook his fist in the direction of the town. Presently, he saw generals Raymond and Barlow walking up. "What are your two doing here?" "Heard the gunfire, and wanted ta see what was goin' on," Raymond answered. "The enemy are attempting to break out of the city." "We winnin'?" Grayfeather turned angrily toward him. "I don't have to tell either of you dolts anything." "And why not?" Barlow asked. "Sooner or later we will hear of it anyway." The stare Grayfeather gave him would have killed him if looks could do that. Barlow had been as cold as possible toward him since being insulted, and he was all too eager to see the commanding general humiliated. "It does not appear to be going as well as we would have hoped," he answered at last, in a tone that said they should be happy to leave with just that. They both got the message. After Raymond whispered to Barlow, the aristocrat nodded reluctantly and they both walked away. He walked back into his tent, sat back down in his table, and raised his right claw to his forehead. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- James heard the firing toward the front start to slack off as the night went on. Reports confirmed just what he had hoped they would; the enemy to their front had completely collapsed. The Equestrian army was now clear to withdraw. Although there were still enemy units harassing them from the side and the rear, those attacks weren't strong enough to break through and inflict real damage. Thank God, we've made it. He sighed in relief. "Sir, the units assigned to the front are reporting few casualties. It looks like we got away," Crystal Clear said, with a similar tone in his voice as James' sigh. "How are the civilians?" "They seem to be okay, sir, although many of them seem... out of it." "A forced move is hardly an easy one. How many?" "At least sixty-thousand." A wave of guilt washed over the human; over two hundred thousand were left to the machinations of the enemy. The Griffons had shown they were more disposed to exploitation than to kindness. "Damn it," he whispered. "I feel the same way, sir, if it's any consolation." Crystal for once sounded not the least bit professional, and looked at him with caring eyes. "We couldn't save everypony, though, and we got most of the foals out at the very least. And you and the Captain" - the very common nickname in the Guard for Shining Armor - "got most of us out as well. We'll have a chance later to retake the town thanks to that decision." "Thank you." James patted the officer on the back of the neck. Crystal returned the favor. As they continued walking, James felt tears sag down his cheeks, a sad song on his lips; Where are the legs we looked ya run, hurroo, hurroo, Where are the legs we looked ya run, hurroo, hurroo, Where are the legs we looked ya run But first ya went ta carry a gun Indeed yer dancin' days 'r done Johnny I hardly knew ya...* ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *Note; these lyrics are from the Irish Rovers' "Johnny I hardly knew ye."