//------------------------------// // The Gathering Storm // Story: Armor's Game // by OTCPony //------------------------------// Withers von Hoofsburg, Prince of Horsetria, Duke of the Trotting March and Baron of Hoofsburg was leaving his solar for bed when an almighty crash erupted from the castle yard. Chattering and the sound of doors being slammed erupted across Hoofsburg Castle as his family and staff tried to see what was happening. The Prince wrenched open one of the high, narrow windows with a glow of his horn. A blast of chill air and a flurry of snowflakes struck him in the face as he strode across his solar to gaze out into the night: even this early in the autumn, here in the heights of the Unicorn Range there was still a dusting of snow on the peaks. Gazing down from his keep into the yard, he saw a smoking crater, as if something had plunged down on to his castle from an enormous height. A meteorite? he wondered. The edges of the crater were blackened, but in the centre, something was glowing. The Prince seized an overcoat and trotted out of his solar and down the narrow, winding spiral staircase of his keep. He had descended a storey when a rough wooden door to his right opened. His son, Colonel Saddle von Hoofsburg of the Royal Whinnyapolis Hussars, stood there. “Father? What’s happened?” “I’m going to find out. Come with me, I may need a strong pair of legs or wings.” Still in his brilliantly-brocaded blue mess dress from that evening’s dinner with his regiment, Saddle trotted down the stairs after his father. They came to an ironwood door at the base of the stairs and trotted through it, down a rail-less flight of stone stairs into the freezing yard. Hoofsburg was a true castle: rough, unfurnished, and unassailable. A thousand years ago, and for centuries before that, it had withstood assault after assault by a hundred enemies, until one day in the twenty-eighth year of the Discordian War, Fetlock von Hoofsburg had faced Celestia and Luna in this very yard, and had knelt a king and rose a prince. Then he had allied his armies with those of Azure Blueblood, and had marched to unify Equestria in the Princesses’ name. A hooful of grooms were already crowding around the crater, trying to peer through the smoke. “Make way there!” barked Hoofsburg sternly, his horn glowing to disperse the smoke while Saddle flapped his wings to clear the air. A leg appeared over the lip of the crater. The fur was singed and blackened, but Hoofsburg’s breath caught in his throat as he saw the gold shoes on the hooves. Slowly, agonisingly, Princess Celestia dragged herself out of the crater and shakily got to her hooves in front of the stunned group of ponies. Her brilliant white coat was marred with ash, burns and cuts. Feathers had been torn from her wings. The gold necklace she always wore was blackened and dented, the blue gem in the centre cracked. Her crown was gone. Withers von Hoofsburg inclined his head, but he could not tear his eyes from his Princess. “Your Highness!” Celestia was silent for a moment. Hoofsburg knew in that moment that something had gone terribly wrong; something that had shaken Celestia to the very core of her being. But when she spoke, he heard again the voice of calm command that he remembered from so many Council meetings. “Prince Withers, do you have a radio station in Hoofsburg?” “Not... not one of great range, Your Highness.” “Then I shall require a train to Tall Tale immediately,” said Celestia. “There should be one there to suit my purposes, but we must be swift. You shall come with me, Prince Withers. I shall fill you in on the journey there. You as well, Colonel Hoofsburg. I fear I may have need of your regiment.” *** Canterlot Castle reeked of blood and death. Guards Tower was a burnt-out shell that still smoked, darkening the morning sky. The roof of the Throne Room had been blasted off, leaving the rafters a blackened skeleton. The rest of the castle was a wreck of shattered windows, destroyed furnishings, and dead bodies. Blueblood walked slowly along the rubble-strewn west battlement. Radical Road trailed behind him, whimpering and clutching a hoofkerchief to his muzzle. Blueblood did have to admit the horror of it. He’d known that his coup would have been costly, but he hadn’t expected anything like this. When they’d finished off the Guards Tower, the vengeance-mad Trottingham Grenadiers had rampaged through the rest of Canterlot Castle, destroying everything in front of them and killing anypony – staff, officials, Guards – indiscriminately. It had taken until dawn for the officers to bring their blood-crazed troops under control. Now they were milling in the Drill Square, as if wondering what they’d done and wondering what they’d do next. “Mr Blueblood!” Blueblood and Radical Road turned to see Neigh hastening up the battlement’s steps. The Major General was splattered with gore, and clutched by the scruff of the neck in one burly hoof he held a Unicorn. “Well, well,” remarked Blueblood, smiling. “Amber Spyglass. I shouldn’t be surprised that you survived.” “Two of my ponies found him in the east tower,” growled Neigh. “He came out saying he wanted to surrender. They swear they didn’t see him until he came out.” “Of course they didn’t. He’s a spy.” Blueblood stepped forwards. “A spy for the Princesses, no less. Tell me, spy: what would you do in my position? What would you do to an agent of the tyrant you had just overthrown?” “Turn him to my side,” said Amber Spyglass coolly. “And learn from him all about the rest of his intelligence service.” “And yet you would have reason to doubt such a rapid change in loyalties, would you not?” demanded Blueblood. “What is a spy loyal to, hmm?” “Lately, that which keeps him alive and fed.” Blueblood chuckled quietly. “You will give me names, and then I will decide what to do with those names. And after I have done that, I will decide what is to be done with you.” Amber Spyglass inclined his head. Blueblood turned to Neigh. “I will need you and one company to come with me to Parliament. Send the rest of the battalion to secure Canterlot: government buildings, railway stations, radio stations, anything else you think necessary. We need to move quickly: have them ready to go in twenty minutes.” Neigh gave a curt nod and swept away, still dragging Amber Spyglass. Blueblood turned and looked out over the balcony, gazing on to the snow-capped peaks of the Unicorn Range, the rich Reinine Valley below, and beyond that the dark green mass of the Everfree Forest. He could afford to take a few moments to survey all that was now his. He felt lighter now, almost giddy, as if the weight of so many months of planning and worry had finally lifted from him. But he could not afford to celebrate yet. There was still much work to be done, and he was not so overconfident to believe that he could take the whole of Equestria without a fight. As he turned to go, his hoof struck something lying on the floor. He expected a piece of rubble, but it clanked on the stone, and when he looked down, he saw something shining dully. Blueblood took it in his magic and gently held it up between him and Radical Road. It was blackened and carbonized, but even now the intricate tracery was visible in the gold, on the three points, and around the blue gem set in the centre that glowed with an unnatural light. “The Solar Crown,” whispered Radical Road. “A thousand years old,” said Blueblood wistfully. “Cast from gold mined by Earth Ponies, forged by the spells of Unicorn mages, and the light in the Blue Radiant sunlight caught by Pegasi.” Blueblood turned it over in his magic, reading Middle Equestrian inscription that scrolled across Celestia’s crown: “The Earth Ponies, Unicorns and Pegasi have long been Sundered, but have Joined again, Now and Forever, United by the Power of Harmony and the Magic of Friendship.” He snorted. “I suppose Celestia repeated that doggerel to herself every night when she took it off.” With a twitch of his head, Blueblood hurled the crown over the battlements. It glinted faintly in the morning sun before it disappeared. Blueblood turned and smiled at Radical. “We should make sure that prophecy is fulfilled, must we not?” *** Every step sent a jolt of pain through Warding Ember’s hips. His boots had been soaked through by the long wet grass of the Canter Valley and his hooves were numb. Half a dozen cuts on his forelegs, where he had been too slow to stop a sword slash, smarted in the cold, as did a long gash on his barrel where a spearpoint had raked him. Warding Ember was in a much better state than most of his ponies. Well over a hundred wounded limped along in the centre of the formation, or were carried or even dragged by comrades. They had left that same number dead in Guards Tower. The 1st Battalion’s pioneers had been preparing to smash the doors down with their axes when grapeshot from a battalion gun had blasted them to splinters and reduced twenty Guards to a bloody paste. Colonel Stalwart Ward had saved Ember’s life by throwing him into an alcove, but he had been struck in the leg by shrapnel and that had fatally slowed him as they retreated up the spiral staircase. Ward had killed five Trottingham Grenadiers before six had set on him at once. By that time the rest of the Guard had managed to grab weapons, but the ferocity of the Trottinghams and the surprise they had achieved had been overwhelming. Ember and the Guards had slowly but surely retreated up the tower, leaving heaps of dead on the staircase, while ponies trapped in their rooms fought with a desperate heroism that nopony would ever know, all of them committing the sin unheard of for nearly a thousand years, that of pony killing pony. Warding Ember remembered only a haze of blood and rage and fear, until he, hundreds of Guards and hundreds of wounded had found themselves penned on the top floor of Guards Tower while Colonel Tornado of the Life Guards screamed at him that the Castle was lost. Ember wasn’t sure how he’d thought of it. If any of his subordinates had suggested that plan to him at any other time he’d have called them mad. In that moment he’d turned to Colonel Tornado and had demanded to know if his Pegasi could have airlifted his ponies out one by one. Tornado had stared at him silently for a moment before simply saying; “Yes.” They’d sent the wounded first, and then the rest had been flown out by the Life Guards’ squadrons company by company. Warding Ember had stayed with the Grenadier Company, the last to go, bracing the last set of doors shut with their bodies while Tornado’s last squadron tore lanterns from the walls and smashed them on the floor to set the tower on fire. Tornado himself had dragged Warding Ember out through the smoke and into the clean, cold air. The descent through the morning sky had been harrowing. Ember had expected Tornado’s limbs to fail at any time, for he was hardly the lightest or slimmest of Unicorns, or for sharpshooters in the tower to blast them out of the sky, or for thousands of Pegasi cavalry to rise from the Castle in pursuit. But nothing had happened. They had left Guards Tower and their hundreds of dead inside burning behind them, and had come to a thumping landing in the Canter Valley, the sheer grey face of the Canterhorn stretching up thousands of feet above them and the burning Castle little more than a dirty smear far, far above. He’d formed his effectives into a battalion square with the injured in the centre. Tornado’s Life Guards screened them. Then they’d marched, leaving the Castle their regiment had guarded for centuries behind them. Nopony spoke, the silence leaving Warding Ember to contemplate the awful enormity of what had just happened. He was the first commander in a thousand years to order a retreat from Canterlot. He had failed everypony. He had failed his regiment, whose traditions he had sworn to uphold; he had failed the army, which had entrusted him with the burden of command; he had failed his soldiers, who had trusted him to lead them to victory whatever the battle or whoever the enemy; and worst of all, he had failed in a soldier’s most sacred of trusts. He had failed his Princess. Warding Ember did not know whether Princess Celestia was alive or dead, but if he could no longer protect her he knew what he had to do now. Nothing could ever wipe out his failure, but he had a duty to redress the consequences of his mistakes. He was leading his ponies south, to the only place he could be certain they would get help and the only place he could begin to restore control over the situation. A Life Guard thumped down in front of him, lathered, his uniform spotted with blood and stained from smoke. “Ponyville ahead, sir! Things look normal.” Warding Ember mopped the sweat from his brow. “Thank the Spirits! Take your fastest ponies ahead and have them prepare medical facilities! And wake Princess Twilight!” The Pegasi saluted and took off. Warding Ember grimaced and found himself marching faster, powering through the pain. Ponyville was just over this ridge, and there, a Princess with the authority to mobilise the rest of the Army. Yes, the day was not lost yet. *** Twilight Sparkle pushed to the front of the crowd building on the edge of Ponyville. Many of the town’s ponies were still in dressing gowns, despite the cold morning, staring at the bizarre sight spilling over the Mare-St-Jean escarpment to the north of the town. Twilight had been woken twenty minutes earlier by a Pegasus Sergeant hammering at her door. The Pegasus had been frantic and animated, and in her sleepy state she hadn’t understood much of it. She’d also been distracted by the staff of Ponyville Hospital racing past behind him, dragging medical equipment. Now those same doctors were racing out to the square of red-jacketed Guardsponies marching down the reverse slope of the Mare-St-Jean, bringing back soldiers on stretchers, gurneys, or carried between comrades. Twilight had watched in numb disbelief as they were rushed past, groaning, clutching hooves to bloody wounds or burns. Something terrible has happened. “Twilight! Twilight!” Applejack shouldered her way through the crowd, her face pale. “Ah jus’ seen soldiers being taken ta the hospital! What the hay’s goin’ on?!” “I... I’m not sure, Applejack. I’m trying to find out.” Applejack nodded grimly. “Ah’ll put the word out around the Princess C’s, wake old Cherry Fizzy too. Might be you’ll be needing us, but the Spirits know ah hope ya won’t.” The cavalry and the infantry square had arrived at the edge of Ponyville and were beginning to break up. Some soldiers collapsed exhausted on to the ground, oblivious to the ponies staring at them. Others stared back with blank, unfocused faces. Then an old Unicorn with gold braid on his uniform stormed through the middle of them, his face red and spitting orders. “Is this a Guards Regiment or not?! Company commanders take charge! Defensive positions facing north! I want cavalry pickets out covering the whole valley to both tree lines!” Then he spotted Twilight and marched towards her. “Your Highness.” “General Ember?” gasped Twilight. She stared at him in blank incomprehension. Warding Ember’s uniform was cut to ribbons and stained with blood. There were long cuts on both his forelegs. His soldiers seemed to be in no better a state. “What in the wide wide world of Equestria has happened?” “Your Highness, I will be frank: Canterlot Castle has come under attack. I do not know why, but the Trottingham Grenadiers attacked us in our barracks and we were forced to abandon the Castle. I do not know what has happened to Princess Celestia, but I fear she is either dead, or in the very best case scenario is incommunicado.” Warding Ember seemed to swim before Twilight’s eyes. She suddenly felt unsteady on her hooves. Canterlot attacked? By a regiment of its own Army? And... She felt words stick in her throat and tears begin to build in her eyes. Princess Celestia, her mentor, her friend, dead... “Your Highness!” snapped Ember. “Your Highness please, you must listen! Princess Celestia is incapacitated and we have no word from Princess Luna or Princess Cadance. Their Highnesses’ Government maybe under the control of a hostile force. That makes you the most senior royal. What happened in Canterlot was entirely down to my own failings, and when this crisis is over you will have my resignation. Until then, I am the only military officer that can advise you. I have a plan to reclaim Canterlot, but I await your command.” Twilight was suddenly acutely aware of the crowd surrounding her, listening, whispering. Rumours would be spreading, and she knew that whatever she might feel about Celestia’s death, she would have to gain a grip on the situation quickly. “What would you have me do?” “Use your authority to call mobilisation,” said Ember decisively. “I’ve seen the War Office’s plans: the Ponyville Light Infantry can be assembled here by this evening and the Royal Cloudsdale Greys can be here by midday tomorrow. With them and my Guards, that force should be powerful enough to reclaim Canterlot. I do not know the Trottinghams’ motivation behind this coup, but we need to move quickly before they can entrench their hold on the capital.” Twilight was silent for a moment. She felt the same sick sense of inevitability as she had all those months ago when Amber Spyglass had appeared in her library. Warding Ember was asking nothing less than her permission to bring war down on Canterlot. Twilight shuddered. She remembered the Changeling attack, the screaming civilians, the rain of fire and the blood in the streets. But if she did not... “Very well,” she said stiffly. “I’ll write the orders for here and Cloudsdale. In the meantime, is there anything you and your ponies need?” Warding Ember visibly sagged with relief. “Warm clothing, first of all, and hot food would not go amiss either. If they could be brought out to my ponies in their positions. I will also need maps if you have them, so I can plan the...” “Excuse me, Princess!” Mayor Mare shoved through the crowd, a horrified expression etched on to her face. “We’ve had the radio on in town hall. You’re... you’re going to want to hear this.” *** “My Honourable Friends,” said Radical Road, reading the speech Blueblood had written for him. “I come before you today to report an appalling treason.” The government benches were sparsely occupied, as they always were on opposition days, but there were enough ministers sitting on the Treasury Bench for Blueblood’s purposes. Behind the opposition front bench, though, Parliamentarians filled every row. Every face in the House was tight and drawn. Everypony in Canterlot had seen the Castle burn; everypony had heard the shots. Neigh’s soldiers had kept the reporters away from the Castle, but the rumours had been swirling for hours. None of those rumours, though, could be as shocking as the carefully-crafted truth the leader of the Parliamentarian movement was about to reveal to Equestria. For why would Radical Road, Blueblood thought with malicious glee, that most principled of politicians, lie? “Last night, Mr Blueblood and I went to Canterlot Castle at Princess Celestia’s invitation,” continued Radical Road. He held up a crisp parchment letter bearing the royal seal. “Her Highness wrote that she wished to discuss reform in light of the recent events surrounding the sun.” There was a stirring on the Treasury Bench. Burnished Bronze and Penny Bag looked at each other in shock and confusion. It was all Blueblood could do not to smile. “Needless to say, we were eager to discuss changes.” Radical Road’s voice grew louder. “But when we entered the Throne Room, we were set upon by the Royal Guard at Celestia’s order!” A cry of disbelief rose from the government bench, but now Radical was shouting above them. “Her power clearly spent, she wished to decapitate the Parliamentarian movement and stifle any hope of democratic reform!” he thundered. On the government benches several ponies were now on their hooves, but any cries of protest were drowned out by a roar of “SHAME!” from the packed opposition benches behind Radical. Their leader raised a hoof, waiting for the noise to die down before he continued. He was quite animated now, Blueblood thought. That brandy he’d given Radical to fortify him in his carriage on the way to Parliament had certainly done the trick. Then the great double doors of the Commons Chamber slammed open, and in marched twenty grim-faced Trottingham Grenadiers. At their head, his hoof resting on his sword hilt, was Major General Neigh. A deathly silence fell over the chamber. “We were only saved thanks to the heroic actions of a battalion of Trottingham Grenadiers led by Major General Neigh,” continued Radical. “The 3rd Battalion was due to be reviewed this morning at the Castle, but several soldiers learned of Celestia’s plans and warned General Neigh. They protected us and Celestia and the Royal Guard fled the Castle!” The government’s MPs sat rooted to their seats in mute shock. Blueblood gazed at them hungrily. Now came the kill. “My friends,” said Radical Road gravely. “We find ourselves at a precipice, gazing down a path that once taken cannot be turned back from. Princess Celestia has fled the capital to parts unknown and has attempted to murder Members of Parliament, the public’s representatives. As the senior military officer in Canterlot, Major General Neigh has already begun securing ministries and administrative centres in the city, but he has told me that he will not impose any sort of military rule over the country. And given the events of last night and of recent weeks,” he added coldly. “I have no confidence in the government to do the right thing in this time of crisis. “I therefore see no option but to put forward a motion of no confidence in Their Highnesses Government, and to organize ourselves as a caretaker government and assume emergency powers until public safety can be restored.” *** Blueblood, Radical, Cordwainer and Neigh met twenty minutes later in Blueblood’s parliamentary office. Both motions had passed by landslides, and with swords in the chamber, nopony had dared question the flagrant breaches of parliamentary procedure. Burnished Bronze, Penny Bag, and the few other ministers there had been quietly escorted away after the vote by Neigh’s soldiers. Blueblood watched with a little distaste as Radical calmed himself with several more helpings of his finest brandy. The Earth Pony was still shaking and sweating after his speech. Everything was happening far faster than he’d ever imagined, and he was far closer to achieving his dreams than he’d ever dared hope. Of course, Blueblood intended to make sure that they stayed dreams, but for now, let him look forward to his precious reforms. “We have good initial reports from Trottingham,” said Neigh. “Lieutenant Colonel Cleansweep says that the mood in the rest of the regiment is ugly, and the streets are turning against Celestia as well.” “Good,” said Blueblood. “We need to secure the rail link between here and Trottingham immediately.” Neigh nodded. “Ponyville. I’ll have him send a battalion to take the town. Once the rail crossroads there are taken we’ll have split Equestria in two.” “Ponyville is Princess Twilight’s home,” warned Blueblood. “I don’t doubt the Guards will have fled there to start organising a resistance around her. Will you have enough ponies to deal with them?” Neigh bared his teeth. “We’ve secured the Canterlot Arsenal: there’s twenty guns in there. I’ll send them with two companies to meet Cleansweep.” Blueblood nodded in satisfaction. “Good. If you can, take the town non-violently. Celestia is still out there somewhere and she will act against us soon. She is very fond of Princess Twilight and her friends. Secure them and the Elements of Harmony, then separate them and bring them to Canterlot.” He laughed suddenly, remembering that Privy Council meeting so many months ago. “We may even convince Twilight Sparkle of the merits of our revolution!” Neigh nodded curtly. “I’ll see to it.” He swept from the room. Blueblood turned to Radical. “You need to start appointing ministers.” Radical shook his head. “Not ministers: too royalist.” “Excuse me?” “The word comes from the Old Prench meaning ‘servant’. We are no longer the servants of monarchs.” Blueblood stared at him incredulously. After all this time was he still thinking like some student activist? Or perhaps he was just drunk. “As you like it. Go.” Radical left the office, swaying a little. Blueblood stood and approached Cordwainer. “In Ponyville there is a certain purple and white Unicorn. I trust you remember her?” “All too well sir.” “Go with Neigh’s troops. When they have taken her and the rest of Princess Twilight’s friends into custody, ensure that she makes it safely back to Canterlot then separate her from the rest. None of those soldiers will refuse you acting under my authority. Bring her to the mansion.” He felt a savage vengeance, so long nursed and ready to be released stirring inside him. “I owe her a debt of humiliation, with interest.”