It had been just after lunch when they finally moved out, something that annoyed the crows out of Gilda, especially when the delays were on the Gryphon side. It was pretty embarrassing to see the human Marines already standing ready with their modified wagons, while their griffin counterparts seemed to scramble around trying to finalize the assigned soldiers for the scouting expedition.
Expedition, Gilda thought. Even flying a few leagues out, she still couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed by how most of the griffins in Aricia felt this was more to give the humans something to do. For me to do something as well, she added.
She couldn’t feel too bitter on the last thought, though. She was an inexperienced officer, thrust probably too soon to a command position almost akin to captaincy. If Fillius had his way, he would have put her behind the walls of Aricia. It wouldn’t do well for morale if the only officer that led the defense died on them.
That thought made Gilda smile. Maybe it was better that the griffins in Aricia thought this was a simple expedition. Plus, it would be priceless to see Fillius’ face when we successfully started an offensive against the Cloven.
Of course, it would have been even better if she was assigned all the griffins that she came with, those that were familiar with how the Marines fought. Unfortunately, a lot of those that came from Arnau had to be rotated to guard duty, to familiarize to Aricia’s walls and its defense teams. Giraldi had cautioned her in rocking the boat too early, and advised that showing unity with the First Spear would boost morale better than objecting to the reassignment.
So, she agreed. She could tell herself she did the right thing in the long run. Maybe she could show these griffins from Aricia how the Marines could help them turn the tide on the defenses. She nodded to herself, feeling a little better about the situation when she heard a mutter behind her. “How much longer will we have to fly? We should have been there by now.”
Gilda rolled her eyes. Of course, the scenario going through her head didn’t have Bricius. Almost all of the Aricia griffins assigned to her had been courteously professional, with that tiercel being the most vocal exception. She was sure there were a few grumblings and mutterings, but Bricius’ moaning was by far the loudest.
Giraldi heard it too apparently, because he looked back and shouted, “Quiet in the ranks!”
Gilda glanced at her centurion. His facial expression showed that he was most likely more annoyed than she was, and as bad as she felt about it, there was a small lingering sense of satisfaction of not being alone in dealing with the overbearing tiercel. As an officer, she still had that separation from the soldiers. It was not her job to discipline them, but the centurions’.
Well, unless they did something immensely stupid in front of her, which she was waiting for.
“Sir,” Giraldi called, taking her out of her train of thought. Looking at him fully, he motioned towards his left, and Gilda spotted a few griffins flying towards them. Near crossbow range, they squawked the proper signal, letting her know the scouts they sent ahead were back.
“Signal the wagons,” Gilda ordered. “We’ll stop to meet with the scouts, see what they have for us.”
“Aye,” Giraldi replied, and squawked loudly. Two griffins immediately flanked his sides, and the centurion began barking orders. One of their fastest Wind Knights flew to meet the approaching party.
Gilda stole a look at the approaching scouts, looking for Fortrakt. When she spotted him riding in the middle, following a senior griffin’s lead, she breathed a little easier. Scouting trips were generally safe, but a bad encounter with the enemy could change all that.
Moving with practised ease, the two groups of griffins began to converge on wagons below, which had now stopped in a small clearing surrounded by odd patches of trees and tall grass. A marine in each vehicle were on the look-out, judging by the sleek binoculars they were using. Oddly enough, she hadn’t spotted any of the glare those tools were notorious at producing, especially in such sunny conditions. That piqued her curiosity.
Gilda’s group arrived first. When her claws touched the grassy ground, she followed her practise of looking around. Others didn’t, most especially the few Fortus Knights that relished the feel of the earth. She couldn’t blame them, as they had been flying non-stop since they left Aricia. That was akin to her not flying for days.
The air smelled of crisp grass, with a weak wind flowing from the east. With no whiff of death or decay, the absence of crows didn't bother her. It was good sign. That meant that there were no Cloven around to spy on them, pretending to be dead or otherwise.
She saw Corporal Imlay talking to Pathfinder, the mare leader of the wagon drivers. As she approached, Pathfinder pointed in her general direction, and Imlay stole a glance. Giving the mare a nod, the Corporal walked towards her, followed by two other Marines flanking his sides. Giraldi and another griffin immediately went to hers, while the rest seemed to tense a little, but stood steady.
“How was the ride, Corporal?” Gilda asked in Aeric.
Imlay blinked a bit, but nodded with understanding. “A little more uncomfortable than we’re used to,” Imlay replied easily, with a careless shrug of his shoulders. “Better than walking, though.”
“No doubt,” a marine on his left muttered. “My ass still hurts though.”
A faint smile appeared on Imlay’s face before he looked at Gilda. “Guess Marco was right. You guys do sound like Yoda with the Translation gems.”
Gilda nodded. It was probably one of her better ideas, considering that only a few griffins could speak or understand Equestrian. Unfortunately, with the time limit they had, Nydia could only prepare just enough for the Marines.
Imlay looked towards the sky, with Gilda following the gaze, just in time to watch the scouting party land with a whoosh of air. Giraldi automatically moved towards the lead, who saluted on his approach.
“Report!” the Centurion barked.
“Sir! We’ve confirmed the location of our target. It’s a little over five leagues northwest from our current location.”
“I’d say good job if it wasn’t for the fact that you took your time,” Giraldi replied steadily.
“Apologies for that, Centurion,” the lead scout declared. “It was my call. We found a good area to scout and map the surroundings, and counted how many troops they had in position as well.”
Gilda blinked. That was a piece of good news. Imlay also seemed to realize the importance of the intelligence as well because he looked towards the two Marines, and said, “Tell the fireteams to set an overwatch.”
“Giraldi,” Gilda called, and the centurion nodded.
“Aye, we’ll set up a temporary camp.”
Gilda felt a bit of amusement when she saw Giraldi ordering griffins to start setting up a rest-area around the wagons. While age and experience definitely helped him, she couldn’t help but remember that he wasn’t even the most experienced centurion in Arnau, and led mostly Auxiliary units. Now, he had to contend with Knights and soldiers of Aricia, and he was fitting quite well.
It took quite a while before everything was ready, and in that time, Gilda realized she missed doing hard work. Any time she tried to even lift anything, another griffin took over, with a respectful ‘Let me do that, sir’ for her trouble. In the end, she coordinated with Giraldi to ensure every griffin was doing something.
The center of the camp was cleared, while the perimeter was watched over by patrolling griffins and Marines. The ground was cleared of any grass, and the soil was softened enough to allow the scouting leader to draw a crude model of the cloven outpost.
“The intelligence of the outpost was mostly correct.”
“What do you mean?” Gilda asked
“The perimeter has been prepared for assault. We counted at least fifty troopers, backed by ten Spikers arranged around the perimeter.”
There was a slight murmur amongst the griffins, though Imlay looked slightly confused. “I’m sorry, it could be a translation mistake, but did you guys just say Spikers?” he asked.
Gilda nodded, and said in Equestrian, “History described them as bulky, slow-moving cloven with huge spiked tails. They were used to counter King Fortis’ shield-wall formation, using their tails to stab shield-holders from above, but were too slow for offensive marches.”
“Dangerous, but can be worked around,” Giraldi added. “Besides, we won’t be depending on a shield-wall.”
“Maybe,” the scout leader continued. “We have confirmed Corrupted mages present. However, their numbers are a bit more than we anticipated.”
“How many?” the centurion asked.
“At least one per ten troopers.”
That got a louder reception, and Gilda couldn’t blame them. Even after almost a thousand years, mages were still considered the best counter for aerial attacks. Even the newer Kingdom defenses—like the the lightning orb—still depended on mages to activate it.
Imlay and his fellow marine looked thoughtful as well. Considering the one corrupted mage they had fought was formidable until they used an explosive weapon, and the show of action of the Arician mages back in the steadholt was quite something to behold. After few moments, the corporal spoke up.
“How about their flyers?”
The senior scout looked at him, before turning to Giraldi. When the Centurion translated the statement to Aeric, the scout replied, “Surprisingly, none at all. Either they have left, or our initial assessment of their presence was wrong.”
“Odd,” Giraldi muttered. “Maybe they are using the Flyers on the offensive to Aricia?”
“It doesn’t matter. With defenses like that, they won’t need it,” Bricius muttered, and for once, Gilda agreed. Spikers, backed by troopers with mage support was quite a solid defense.
So, when Imlay said, “The corrupted mages won’t be a problem,” almost everyone who understood Equestrian was staring at him like he grew a second head. They turned to the second marine when he nodded in agreement.
“What do you mean?” Giraldi asked.
“I can take down the mages,” Imlay replied.
It came out so easily and casually that Gilda couldn’t help but ask, “How? As powerful as your guns are, the last corrupted mage defended well against them.”
“True, but mostly because it was aware of us,” Imlay countered. “Giraldi explained to me that corrupted mages are basically still griffin mages, but controlled by the cloven, is that correct?” Gilda wanted to add that they seemingly feel no pain, but she nodded. Imlay continued, “A lot of magic you griffins use seems similar to unicorns. You need a focus, like your staff or a unicorn horn, and time and concentration to cast a spell.”
One of Gilda’s eyes widened. Nydia unconsciously nodded, while gripping her focus staff a little harder. Giraldi looked impressed. “You’ve been studying magic?” he asked.
“Our government did,” Imlay replied. “More of observation on it’s practical aspects than the theories, which I believe was enough to combat against it.”
“Combat against—? Wait, aren’t we just the scouting expedition?” Bricius asked. Other griffins nodded silently, agreeing with him. That seemed to spur Bricius on because he looked at Gilda and added, “Sir, we’re less than half a century. And most of us are sky-griffins.”
“I am aware of that,” Gilda replied, so deceptively calm that it surprised her. Looking at Giraldi, she asked, “With our current numbers, what’s your thoughts on attacking this outpost?”
Giraldi looked at the two Marines for a moment before shrugging. “First, that depends on how we attack; and second, it depends on neutralizing the corrupted mages.”
“We can take them down, no problem,” Imlay replied firmly.
“This is insane,” Bricius declared, the volume in his voice growing steadily louder. “You’re going to lead us all to the crows!”
Once more, Gilda’s own calmness surprised her as she looked at Bricius steadily. Her annoyance at him was gone, replaced with a mix of pity and disappointment. Giraldi looked properly incensed, though, especially when the more griffins began to murmur with agreement. He was most likely about to order Bricius to shut it when Imlay beat him to it.
“Who knew there were cowardly griffins.”
The griffins that understood Equestrian stiffened at those words. Bricius included. Their gaze snapped to Imlay, who was staring at tiercel neutrally.
“Wha-you!” he sputtered, his claw gripping the loose soil, feathers ruffling in anger. “How dare you—!”
“Bricius, shut that crow-damned beak of yours before I break it!” Giraldi snarled. “Embarass us again, and I’ll make sure to brand you as a useless coward!”
That got to Bricius. From outraged, he seemed to physically shrink at Giraldi’s anger, something Gilda thought was quite impressive. The other griffins fell in line as well, those beside Bricius moving subtly away. Satisfied, the centurion looked at Imlay and asked, “How do you plan to do that?”
The corporal crouched down, and began to draw on the map. “I can shoot the mages from far away, kill them before they can prepare any sort of defensive spell. How big of a shield would they be able to cast?”
Gilda looked at Nydia, their only mage present in the party, who nodded and stepped forward. “Nothing big as unicorns that specialize in shield spells can,” she replied. “Our standard shield can cover one or two individuals, three if they are very close.”
“Even better,” Imlay said with a nod. “Let’s say I can take out two mages before they catch on and put up a shield. That’s when we can use the wagon and a few Marines to shoot up those not covered with the spell.”
“That will leave you open for any magical counter-attack,” Gilda countered.
“Yes, and that would mean they wouldn’t be shielded anymore,” Imlay said.
Gilda was impressed. When Imlay said they had studied magic enough to combat it, he wasn’t kidding. While almost common knowledge that not even the more magically flexible unicorns could cast two spells simultaneously, the fact that the humans got that from mere observation in that short amount of time was telling.
“We can also prop up the fifty-cal for extra firepower,” Imlay added, “add some grenades as well, and we’ll get some toasty bug salad. We can pour in the lead, then move to another position where they are vulnerable.”
While most of the griffins looked lost, those that saw the humans in action nodded.
“If we do enough damage to the mages and Spikers,” Giraldi began, “we can punch through their defenses, open up a path to get to the Heart.” He looked for a moment, and began to draw on the ground. “We can converge in three groups. The wagon, their support, and the main battle group that would allow the wagons to reposition themselves.”
Gilda looked through the plan. It was a solid attack, even without a shield wall present. “We’ll have to pick a spot very near the heart. We can’t maintain such pressure for long.” She looked at Imlay, about to ask his thoughts when she saw him and his companion looking at each other. Imlay seemed to be frowning, while the other looked somewhat… disappointed. “Is there something wrong, Corporal?”
He looked at her for a moment, a little confused. “Why are we posturing?” he asked.
Gilda blinked. “Posturing? What do you mean?”
Imlay looked at her for a moment, pondering over his next words. After a few seconds, he replied, “Where I come from, when two people—males, mostly—have a little confrontation, they posture; both stand in front of each other, looking menacingly and shoving each other to get the other to back down.”
“And?” Giraldi asked.
“Well, when coming up with battle plans, we don’t posture. We act like predators.”
“How’s that?” Gilda wondered, trying to find out where this was going.
“Well, in my example,” Imlay replied, “the predator would smile at his antagonist, wait for him to turn around, then hit him hard on the back of the head with a chair.”
One of Gilda’s eyes widened. “A little dishonorable, don’t you think?”
“When it comes to life and death situations, an interpretable notion like honor isn’t really in our best interest,” the Corporal answered easily. “I’d rather get the job done and bring my Marines back home alive.”
“Goddamn right,” the other marine muttered.
Giraldi seemed to snort. “Understandable. The question still remains, though: how are we going to do that, act like predators in this case?”
Imlay laid out his plan on the ground, much to the interest of the rest of the griffin soldiers, and in the end, a bit of horror. What he proposed was nowhere near any of the codex of how griffins waged war. There were more than a few disbelieving looks on the griffin’s faces in the end, with Gilda wondering if they were thinking that this human in front of them was either a genius or just crazy . She didn’t know what to think of it either, so she waited for Giraldi’s more experienced opinion. He studied the drawing repeatedly, trying to find a crack in it.
In the end, he gave a rueful smile, a shake of his head, and said, “It’s crazy enough to work.”
There was a mumbling amongst the rest of the griffins, most likely complaints, but with Giraldi’s dressing down of Bricius earlier, they weren’t too vocal about it. Said terciel was actually completely quiet. Gilda looked at her centurion, and he gave her a reassuring nod. Taking a breath, she then said, “Rest up. Once we divide the groups, we’ll move out the outpost and destroy the Heart.”
“Are you sure this is the right way to do it?” Gilda looked at Giraldi. “I can understand leaving Bricius as support for the wagon group, but having me lead the assault group?”
“Is there a problem with that?” the centurion asked.
“They trust you more than they trust me,” she replied. “Granted, most you put with me are those that came with us from Arnau, but the rest of the Aricians would rather not have an unblooded officer leading them to enemy territory. Especially with such an unconventional plan.”
“Unconventional?” Imlay interrupted, a smile on his face. “This is pretty standard stuff.”
Gilda rolled her eyes. “To you maybe.”
“No, I agree,” Giraldi added, giving Imlay a nod. “Wind Knights and their recruits use these tactics as part of their drills.”
“As an exercise and a means to keep up with tradition, not to do battle with,” Gilda countered.
“Only because we lack firepower, which these Marines have,” the centurion replied. “As for you leading them, you have to understand that putting you there is the right move. The soldiers will follow your command, and you are right that they may not trust you. However, the fact that you’re going in with them speaks significantly of your confidence in the plan, and the willingness to be with them, and not just command from the back.”
“That’s true,” Imlay said. “Keep up the morale and all. Plus my Marines respect you enough to follow your lead as well. You won’t have a problem with them.” Imlay seemed to ponder over something, before nodding. “Just try not to get killed. You’re the only officer present who likes us humans. Your Sergeant Major doesn’t seem too fond of us.”
Gilda blinked. “Sergeant Major?”
“Fillius is like your senior lead centurion, right?” Imlay asked. When both Giraldi and Gilda nodded, he continued, “So, yeah, he’d probably be the Sergeant Major for us.”
Gilda looked at the centurion, who just shrugged. Looking at the plan once more, and the group division, she sighed. “Lead a few soldiers and Marines to their deaths, try not to get them and yourself killed. Okay. That won’t be hard. At all.”
“That’s the spirit,” Imlay said with a youthful grin.
“This will be the most spectacular victory, or the most embarrassing defeat,” Gilda muttered. She looked at Giraldi and said, “We’re moving out in ten minutes.”
Giraldi saluted. “Yes, sir,” he replied, then flew up to the air. Imlay and Gilda watched him for a moment before the corporal began to move as well.
“Alright, I’ll pass the word to my guys as well. We’ll be ready to move at anytime.”
“Wait,” Gilda called. “Can I walk with you?”
Imlay looked at her for a moment before nodding, and Gilda began walking beside him, thinking of a way to broach the subject she had on her mind. They passed by a few marching griffins that saluted her, and only when they were alone did she speak up again.
“Corporal, I want to thank you for all the support you're giving us.”
“No need, ma’am,” he replied easily. “Just doing our jobs.”
“My job was to be a bodyguard for Marco and his friends, not lead soldiers to war,” Gilda said.
Imlay seemed to smile. “There’s a certain quote we have in the human world. It says that some are born great. Others will achieve greatness. And then, there are those that will have greatness thrust upon them.”
Gilda looked at him. “As insightful as that is, it doesn’t help my nervousness, especially when I have to lead the Marines as well.”
“You doubt us, ma’am?” Imlay asked, his tone almost devoid of emotion.
Startled, she replied, “I don’t doubt your word or capabilities, Corporal. I just realized that I’m not part of your chain of command, and I’m also not too ignorant to realize how big of a responsibility, as well as trust, you are extending to me.” She sighed. “However, and I’m not trying to sound ungrateful or anything, I can’t exactly be completely sure that your Marines would just follow my orders, considering we’ve only been working together for the past couple of days.”
“They trust you,” Imlay stated with such complete confidence that it almost took Gilda aback. “We fought together to defend the convoy, and held them off together back in that steadholt. You’ve shown to be a competent leader, ma’am, and we try not to get them killed since they’re so rare in the Corps.” He paused, as if to ponder. “Also, considering the stories Flip-Boy talks about, I’m pretty sure we’ve gotten to know you outside combat as well.”
Gilda stared at him. “What stories?”
Imlay smiled. “Good ones, ma’am. Nothing to worry about.”
“I’ve been around you Marines long enough to know good stories always seem to sound too fantastical.”
“You can’t blame us, ma’am. It keeps the betting pool interesting.”
“What betting pool?” Gilda asked.
“It’s nothing,” Imlay replied, his smile getting bigger. Before Gilda could insist, he seemed to sense something to his right. Following his gaze, she saw a few Marines and a few ponies sitting together. From the looks of it, they were singing. “Huh. Excuse me, ma’am, but I’m going to have to tell them the news. And probably stop my Marines from teaching the Equestrians more explicit songs. God knows we’ve taught them enough on the way here.”
That was probably one of the least subtle dismissal she ever experienced, and she couldn’t help but glare daggers at Imlay. “Corporal,” she called, “I won’t be forgetting this conversation anytime soon.”
He looked at her, and gave her a small smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, ma’am.”
“I bet you don’t,” Gilda muttered, watching as Imlay joined the rest of the Marines. Left alone, she thought of Marco and wondered what stories Imlay was referring to. Part of her began planning to corner him to demand nicely for an explanation. A more rational part told her to just get some rest so she could focus on the upcoming task.
By the time Fortrakt came to advise her that it was time to move out, she had already settled in a more isolated part of the camp, silent, eyes closed, and still thinking of ten ways to corner Marco once she got back to Aricia.