"Get down!" James yelled. He followed his own advice as the giant yellow lizard continued it's dive. He wondered for a moment whether lying prostrate on the ground was a good idea when facing fire-based weaponry, but it had to be better than being turned into a walking torch.
Why didn't I ask Spike or Twilight about dragons before now?
Right now, his high hopes were rapidly disintegrating. He threw away his matchlock and took aim with his pistol. It wasn't likely to kill the dragon, but anything was better than sitting there and not firing back. It gave him a sense of hope, even if those hopes were dim.
He wasn't the only one to start blazing away. Shots began ringing out as the monster flew closer and closer. A fusillade of gunfire sounded as an entire company disobeyed his orders and shot as one mass.
"Blast it, get down!"
Maybe they heard him and maybe they didn't. One way or another, whether by fear or common sense - or both - the ponies began to drop to the ground.
James turned back to resume firing. To his immense surprise, the dragon had covered the distance, and had opened it's mouth to flame. The gunfire hadn't fazed it in the least. It had a few cracked scales here and there, but nothing had penetrated it's natural armor. And now it was in position to strike back.
It did so, unleashing a stream of fire from it's mouth as it passed by overhead. James buried his face into the grass. and covered his head with his arms.
It didn't stop the horrible screams from reaching his ears as a wave of intense heat scorched his back. It was more heart-rending than he thought cries of pain could possibly be.
If I can hear them, then I'm not dead. For a moment, that relieved him... until he got up and saw...
He covered his eyes. No. They couldn't do that, it's not possible... No matter how he tried to shut it out, he could see the flaming bodies, as though their images had been burned into his eyesight. And the screams; only those of the damned were comparable.
Pull yourself together, a small and weak voice said within him. Others will die if you don't take charge.
They'll die even if I do, he countered, but he still shook himself off. It was true, however badly shocked he was at the moment. "Anyone out there who can still hear me, tell the artillery to set up!" Maybe our lead can't harm that monster, but I doubt it can withstand artillery fire.
No one answered. Turning around, he saw the army stopped in it's tracks. Most were standing, either watching the horrible spectacle or trying to pretend it didn't exist. A long, black streak went through the middle an entire company. Dozens were down, clearly dead, others were rolling desperately to banish the flames.
He made the Sign of the Cross once more. He tried again; "Have our guns set up, about two hundred yards apart, and let that thing have it on it's next pass!"
A Guard soldier standing not far away was the first to show signs of hearing him. The stallion shook his head and looked away from the slaughter. "What was that?"
"Have our guns unlimber about a couple hundred yards apart from each other, and spread them out so that only one of them is at threat at any one time."
"What kind of artillery?"
"Any kind, as long as it can shoot something that can blow this guy off the face of the earth!"
The Guard nodded, then turned and ran; James knew it was as much from horror as from duty.
He turned back to the dragon, which was in the process of turning for another attack. "I am not letting you lose this battle for us, you-!" he yelled at it. Doubtless the beast hadn't heard him. No matter; he meant every word he had said.
"Spread out," he ordered. "Don't let this guy get a bead on a whole group of you!"
Slowly, his army was getting out of it's shock. Some of his command began to move, though slowly, as though half dazed. A few, having recovered entirely, began berating their comrades to follow his orders.
He worried it wasn't going to be fast enough, as the dragon turned it's eye to survey the damage it had done. He was relieved that none of the Griffons had turned to re-engage. He wondered what that meant. It wasn't likely to mean anything until the yellow monster was out of the picture.
His shock was gone, replaced by anger and frustration. How many more obstacles will the enemy choose to throw in our path? Can they not see how pathetic their cause is?
The dragon stopped, in the same place it had before, apparently trying to assess it's next target before diving again. It's big, leather wings unfurled.
Leather. That means it can be damaged by our weapons. If we can get it grounded, it won't be as much of a threat. "Spread out," he ordered again. "Aim for the wings!"
There were hundreds of soldiers on the field. The chances of at least some of them hitting the wings was high.
The dragon had tried to aim at another company of musketeers. This time, though, it had fewer targets to readily pick out, as most had taken cover, and the rest were running to either side of it's predicted flight path in an attempt to stay out the range of it's fire It unleashed another torrent of flames; clearly, some of the troops hadn't dispersed far enough. The screams began again, though less in number.
More gunshots rang out as it passed. Some of the soldiers hadn't heard him. Others were too engaged in what was happening to pay attention. At least some of them did try to shoot at the wings. Several ripping sounds reached his ears, and the beast let out another screech, this one of pain.
It didn't immediately try to land, which was too bad. Well, at least this proved he could hurt the beast, though not that he had the firepower to put it down.
"Good Celestia!" came the voice of Bright Star. "What do we do now?"
James didn't like the prospects of what had to happen, but it was unavoidable. "We fall back to the artillery, and hope they can blast this guy."
"But Jim... er, General... the closest artillery battery is about half a mile back."
"Yeah, and that means falling back there. Hope the Griffons don't get the wonderful idea to rally and come after us."
Bright's ears went flat against his head.
"Fall back!" James ordered. "Fall back to the cannons!"
His army needed little encouragement. Their weapons were ineffective against the dragon's scales, and only marginally effective against it's wings. Some spread out and continued to fire as it dove again and again, hoping to do some measure of damage to even the odds. Black scorch marks lined the field, many filled with the dead.
The screaming... no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get rid of it.
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Goldenscale grinned in a predatory manner that his ancestors would have envied. Below him, ponies scattered, desperate to escape the flames he sent forth to consume them.
A group of them stopped running, turned around, and opened fire on him. Their ordinance slammed into his scales and promptly bounced off. He looked at the scales the soldiers had hit; several were badly damaged. His anger blazed like wildfire; how dare the ponies so much as scratch his magnificent coat?
He retaliated by spurting yet more flame from his innards. The group that had foolishly tried to resist him were all caught in the inferno. Their screams were music to his ears.
He turned again, the wind whistling through his ears. His wings emitted a sense of pain; a few of the ponies had gotten lucky and hit him in one of the few spots where his natural armor had no coverage. He was determined to make them pay for that.
It didn't once enter his mind that he was on the wrong side of the war. His interest was in adding yet more wealth to his already considerable hoard. Dragons had taken similar deals in the past, and there was no reason he could see that he should have refused the generous offer of the Griffons.
Another pass, another wave of flame spurting out onto the gnats below.
It was shaping up to be a very good day indeed.
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Colonel Nightshade folded his wings, yawned, and lay down under the shade of a tree not far from his tent. He had been busy most of the night, helping to make sure the way was clear of obstructions. The Lunar Guard hadn't found anything other than the opposing trenches, but needless to say they were tired.
Thestrals were well-known to sleep during the day; the sunlight never did seem to agree with them. As he prepared to doze away, the former captain wondered vaguely where his particular ancestors came from. Some ponies really thought thestrals in the modern day ate meat; with fangs, it was an easy if inaccurate assessment to make. Perhaps thousands of years ago that might have been true, but it sure wasn't now. He also wondered just when pegasi records began claiming that thestrals were technically pegasi, not a separate branch of ponies. Most Lunar Guards felt outraged about that whenever the topic came up but the pegasi scientists remained stubbornly unbowed. As far as they were concerned, if it was a pony, and it had wings, it classified as pegasi.
He felt slightly guilty as he tucked his legs underneath him. Other units in the army were out fighting, while some of the best in the business - of this, Nightshade was certain - were left out. However, after a night's work and the fact that the Night Guard performed best at night, it was understandable. Very understandable, he thought as he yawned again. Normally, the Night Guard had little to do, even at the time of day when it was active. Crime wasn't rampant in Equestria, though it wasn't quite negligible either, and few ponies were stupid enough to commit a crime under the watchful eyes of very scary, bat-like, fanged warriors. Mostly, similar to the Royal Guard, they stood guard at night, standing at their posts like their daytime counterparts until the sun rose.
That didn't mean there weren't rewarding moments. Nightshade grinned as he remembered catching a pony who had been trying to sneak into the palace; the victim had screamed in absolute horror after turning around to see Nightshade, wings outstretched and fangs bared, just inches behind him.
He never found out the reason for the attempted break-in. Perhaps that was for the best. He just took the guy to Princess Luna, who had dismissed Nightshade while she spoke to him. Afterwards, he heard the detainee had been released. That had worried him - the release of a potential criminal wasn't something that rested lightly on his mind - but it had been out of his hooves. Besides, he'd told himself, the Princess no doubt had good reasons for her actions.
He didn't fall off to sleep. Artillery continued to bang away at whatever targets they had, though it gradually got farther away. Rattling gunfire continued to reach his ears as well.
Naturally, many ponies, as well as members of other species and nations, thought of Guards as essentially living statues. It took a lot of discipline to just stand there as some tourist started teasing them or made funny faces. To Guards, the higher ups were powers unto themselves, feared by all who fell under their shadow. He knew the privates and corporals under him were scared to death of him, and they were fellow thestrals. His sergeants were harder to scare, but they followed his orders. Few suspected he wrote poetry here and there, or that he had an interest in mystery and science fiction novels. Perhaps once the war was over, he would actually write one himself.
He was also interested - in an outraged sense - of how some novelists had displayed the banishment of Princess Luna as a civil war between the sisters, with Guard fighting Guard. While the two services had a rivalry, he wanted none of his counterparts dead; far from it! And as for some topics written about the Lunar Princess... He dragged his mind away from that. Law, order, and justice, he thought to himself, not anger or vengeance.
The creaking axles of supply wagons jerked him out of his doze. Grunting in annoyance, he stared at them for a moment as they passed, then settled in for another attempt to get some rest.
Suddenly, from the east, a great roar came. It was an angry roar, an arrogant roar... a roar that got his attention. His ears switched to that direction, with the rest of his head about a second behind.
He'd heard roars like that. He'd had to face a manticore once. Subduing it had been difficult. He'd thought it was the scariest beast he'd ever had to fight.
Until he'd met a dragon face to face.
Luckily, he hadn't had to fight it, as the meeting was on friendly terms. In the next few hours, he'd become quite learned about dragons... especially about the noise they made in anger.
This was a dragon's roar, without a doubt.
He got to his hooves at once, as the civilian ponies pulling the wagons paused. What on Earth was a dragon doing here? It was the foremost question in his mind as he went to his tent and reached for his spear. Then, rethinking the situation, he grasped his crossbow instead.
Maybe it found the battle by chance, and started attacking both sides. It was entirely possible, as some dragons had quite an evil temper, and could go from happy as a lark to enraged in the blink of an eye. Something in his mind told him that wasn't the case.
He walked out into the sunlight. He involuntarily shielded his eyes for a moment, then continued on his way. He had to alert the Night Guard; the army would need all the help it could get if what he feared was coming to pass.
His Guards weren't happy about being woken, he could see that at a glance. However, none of them said a word; they had good discipline drilled into them from the moment they began training. Or it could have been they were afraid of him. That thought was one that came close to brining a smile to his face, one he didn't dare bring on right now.
"That was excellent mobilization, all of you... if I was commanding mules and donkeys, who can't gallop worth a damn." He pointed a hoof toward the east. "We have a situation, and I expect you all to be at your best, whether or not it's daytime."
"What's happened, sir?" asked a newer fish.
Nightshade could have stared him down for the lack of discipline, but he had no time. "We have a dragon on the battlefield." He watched as some worried glances were exchanged. "I know it's not the kind of thing you're used to. But if it's attacking our army, it's going to have to deal with the best Equestria has. That's you, or so I hope. Any questions?"
"Sir," the same thestral said, "I'm still wearing horseshoes from training today," and lifted his right front hoof so they could see the nailed-on piece of metal. "It's going to be hard for me to carry a spear, and harder still for a crossbow."
"Not a question, but I'll answer it. Simply put, either take them off double time, or else go as you are. And considering our army might well be under attack right now, that first option isn't a choice you can make. If push comes to shove, pick up rocks and throw 'em." The Guard looked upset, but didn't complain any further. "Now, all of you, to the skies, and let's show 'em the Lunar Guard is just as good in the light of the sun as in that of the moon!"
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"This has got to be the worst day of my life," Bright said wearily.
James had no comeback ready for him. Terror was spreading through the two corps that were meant to breakthrough in the center. If the artillery couldn't stop the beast... then he would have to hope that the other two corps would be able to push back the enemy and outflank the dragon, and achieve what he could not. It was a idea like beads laid out on a string, and just as fragile. He wasn't going to count on it.
The dragon wasn't getting tired. On the contrary, it seemed to relish in the destruction and death it brought. He could almost swear it was smiling in a twisted sense of joy at what it was doing.
You MONSTER! How DARE you take pleasure in our pain and suffering?
"General, sir!" a Guard sergeant said, saluting. "Our bolts and bullets are having no effect, except to piss this thing off."
"Tell me something I don't know!" Most of the soldiers who were trying to shoot at the wings had given up and were in panic-stricken flight. It reminded him unpleasantly of the 1953 War of the Worlds movie. Except this guy can't cheat by bringing up an invincible energy shield. I hope so, anyhow.
The roar behind him added an exclamation point. Turning around, he could see as it continued assaulting his army. He could easily imagine it throwing out heat and disintegration rays, like the machines in the movie.
"How about that our anti-air cannons have set up?" the noncom asked, grinning slightly.
"That's news I don't know, until now. Have them fire at will." Pointing at the monster that was still tearing his forces apart, he added, aim ahead of him, you hear me? And aim for the wings!"
"You intend to ground it." It wasn't a question.
"Yes, I do. Then we'll be able to deal with it... well, if not on equal terms, then on something close."
"Got it, sir."
"Then why are you still here?"
"Sir!" The Guard stallion turned and galloped away.
James turned around as well, to see the dragon. It was aiming for yet another group of panicking soldiers. Most of them had dropped their weapons and were running as fast as their legs could carry them.
Nothing like an invulnerable enemy to make you run, he thought. He couldn't blame them. If they had been able to take down the monster quickly... but they hadn't, and could not, not with the choice of weapons a normal soldier carried. As it was, he was barely holding a lid on his own fear. The engagement would have to be decided by the skill, competence, and discipline of the army's gun crews.
From somewhere up ahead and to the right of his current position facing the dragon, a crew in one of the newer breach-loaders opened fire.
"Idiots!" he yelled, not that they could hear him. Normal artillery had no noticeable chance of hitting the beast, not in the air. All that would do was attract it's attention.
That's what it accomplished. The dragon turned just before it would have spit fire into the fleeing regiment and eyed the cannons. As if realizing what their comrades had done, and trying to desperately make up for the mistake, the remaining guns in the battery opened up as well. None of their shots hit, though one passed by the head of the dragon by mere feet. It's wings unfurled, broad and yellow.
It was a target the anti-air gunners had been waiting for. A shell burst near it's wing, then another passed under it and blew up several hundred feet behind it. Another ripped through it's left wing before exploding about a hundred feet behind the beast.
The dragon bellowed in agony and rage. Just then another shell burst just a few feet short of it's right wing. The blast obscured part of the wing for a moment, in which the dragon roared in even greater pain. The smoke and flame from the explosion cleared quickly. Several small but distinct holes and one rather large hole in particular now scarred it's seared flesh. Perhaps instinctively, the dragon folded it's wings into it's body.
Of course, that action meant it couldn't stay airborne. It fell, just before another volley of shells could tear through it's body directly.
"Ugh," James growled. Those three or four shells might have ended the monster right then and there.
There was a loud, deafening thud as the beast hit the ground. Dust and dirt flew from the impact site. He looked at the area intensely. Maybe that had finished it.
That hope was shattered in seconds. Within the cloud of dust that had risen around it, the dragon clearly arose from the crater it hade made, this time falling to all fours. A burst of flame issued from his - James assumed it was male - mouth, more in defiance than in any real hope of hitting anything.
"Fire now! NOW!" he yelled.
The gunners did their best to oblige. Other batteries opened up as well, adding their weight to the barrage. Several rounds landed around the beast. None struck home, though the explosions that burst into being around it would have frightened off any rational creature.
The dragon, apparently, wasn't a rational creature. That made it dangerous. It charged on all fours, still screaming in pain, but also in rage.
More shells burst around it as it charged, some from anti-air batteries. Others passed by it, bursting beyond it.
Come on, come on...
The dragon loomed over the four-gun battery. Stopping, it opened it's mouth and a stream of flame lashed from it; it went from north to south, like a sword being swung by a soldier, consuming every gun and every last gunner in it's path. Screams of anguish pierced the noise.
The tongue of flame had reached the gun caissons. They went up, one after another as the ammunition inside exploded. The force of the detonations knocked James to the ground, where he bounced up and down from the artificial earthquake. He yelled in discomfort and terror.
It went on for about a half minute or so. By then, he had no breath to scream further. He took a deep breath and looked up.
His heart almost stopped. The dragon wasn't more than fifty feet away from him, and both it's eyes were staring down at him. He didn't know why he wasn't dead yet. Perhaps it had a mild curiosity about him.
He saw it grin again. That outraged him, enough so that he lost most of his fear. He took his pistol in hand. "Do your worst!" he yelled at it, emptying his rounds into it's face.
It was in vain; the bullets bounced off it's scales. The dragon roared with anger. It opened it's mouth again.
A spear came out the sky and struck it on the nose; unlike his bullets, it went a little inside the nostril, into an unarmored piece of flesh.
The dragon roared in rage and pain, turning from him to look at whoever had been brave enough to attack it head-on. James turned to see a thestral from the Lunar Guard unslinging a crossbow from it's back. Others already had them out, and were blazing away with everything they had. Unfortunately, none of them had the luck of their comrade, and their bolts either bounced off the beast's scales or else stuck there without having penetrated far enough to do damage.
The dragon let loose a stream of fire. Those closest were caught, and fell to the ground, screaming, flaming torches. Others continued to fire, without any noticeable signs of fear.
Where on earth is the rest of 3rd Corps' artillery!?!
He got an answer as he heard the thunder of artillery as a battery behind him, sheltered in the trees, opened fire. A shell burst several feet from the monster's head. Other shells burst around it. Still another flew into it's face and exploded.
The Martian inside the hood was slain, splashed to the four winds,
And the body, nothing now but an intricate device of metal, went whirling to destruction.*
It was a good description for what happened. The head was almost completely gone, severed from the body after the hit, and what was left twitched almost as if in outraged fury for several moments before finally coming to the conclusion that it was, in fact, dead. Then it too fell, collapsing to the ground with a thud, the finality of which left the battlefield in a precious and most strange silence.
James could hardly believe it. The beast had been seconds away from claiming his life, one moment an unstoppable colossus of the battlefield; the next, a shattered ruin, lost to the elements and wind, with only God knowing just where the spirit that had so fiercely inhabited it gone.
He lay there, staring at the body for a time that he never bothered to measure. It may well have been a few minutes, but it might have been half an hour, too.
"General, are you alright?"
The voice came as if from far away. He turned around to see Barrel and Nightshade standing just behind him.
He picked himself off and dusted himself off. "I lived," he said, which was more than could be said for an unfortunate many.
Nightshade nodded to the dragon's massive corpse. "Heard that monster from where we were trying to get some rest, and hurried on over here."
James bowed his head for a second in respect. "My personal thanks. The big lizard was going serve me up like lobster on a silver platter."
"Won't get the chance now," Barrel said, with a disdainful look at the monster that had caused so much devastation. Clicking his tongue unhappily, he asked, "How many casualties do you think we've suffered?"
"I don't even want to know." James knew he had to address his fellow general's concern, though. "Several hundred at the very least, I know that. Maybe a thousand or more. A full battery of artillery and the ammo with it..." He looked upon the beast that had done what the entire Griffon army could not in this battle; to halt his army in it's tracks.
"Well, one way or another, he's going to have a long time to think about what he's done," Nightshade said, spitting on the ground.
"Back to business, capt... I mean Colonel. We must regain the ground the dragon took from us, before the Griffons capitalize on our misfortune."
"Right."
"My boys will go after the Griffons right away, sir," Barrel said.
"I'm counting on you, general."
"Sir." Barrel paused. "Sir, do you think this... beast, was hired out by the Griffons, like all those mercenaries were?"
James hadn't thought much about that. His chief concern had been not to be turned into a human torch, and to save as many of his troops as he could from the inferno. "I'm not sure, but I doubt this was a coincidence. If you can, capture a Griffon officer, in particular a high ranking one; he might have information about this."
"Sir!" Barrel saluted, then shouted, "Forward, you lugs! You heard him; let's take back our country from the invaders!" He got a rousing cheer as Equestrian soldiers came out of the treeline and followed him.
As he watched them go, James looked back at the dragon. Why didn't you stay out of this? Everything would have been better for us and you. Now you have nothing. He sighed. I need to get a lid on my own anger issues, or I'll end up like that one day.
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