//------------------------------// // No peace, little war // Story: Blueblood's War // by OTCPony //------------------------------// Twilight Sparkle was the Princess of Friendship, Bearer of the Element of Magic, and the fourth- or fifth-most powerful pony in Equestria. Every minute of every day hundreds of thoughts crowded for room in her head, whether on politics, science, history or magic, and every one of them different to the last. Twilight Sparkle had been thinking a lot lately. It was all she had to do. Hurry up and wait; that was how the Army worked. Everypony from Applejack to Rainbow Dash to General Warding Ember had told her that, repeatedly and with a wry, resigned smile. They had been hurrying and waiting since before they had even arrived at this place. Two weeks ago Twilight, Spike, her friends, and nearly four thousand pony soldiers had abandoned their homes in Ponyville, fleeing ahead of a battalion of rebels and mutineers led by the traitor Major General Neigh and in the thrall of the usurper Blueblood. Under her authority they had fled south down the River Saddle to the defensive position General Warding Ember had selected, a tiny, unremarkable village called Asshaye. Here they had hurried and here they now waited. Waited for the reinforcements that were trickling in everyday. Waited for the scraps of news that came with them. But mostly they just sat thinking. Thinking about their homes and wondering, fearing, what might be happening there now and, none more so than Twilight, wondering whether they’d made the right decision. The canvas flap of Twilight’s tent pushed open. “Morning, Twi!” Twilight couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps uniquely in the camp, Spike seemed to be thoroughly enjoying this new experience. He was forever making himself useful to General Ember, scribbling down orders and dashing to and fro with them. To add to his authority, Warding Ember had paid for his commission, and now the baby dragon looked quite splendid in the cocked hat and red-faced blue jacket of the Royal Artillery. “Morning, Spike. Any news?” “Nothing the General can’t tell you better than me. Just came to say that breakfast is on in the mess.” He frowned, glancing at Twilight’s spotless camp bed. “Have you been up all night?” Twilight looked down sheepishly at her campaign desk. She hadn’t realised that the beeswax candle had guttered out hours before. Perhaps her eyes had been too heavy to notice that she had been squinting through the gloom. “Sorry, reading.” “There’s a shock. A good book?” “Oh, yes.” Spike inclined his head to see the pages of the massive tome lying in the rickety wooden table. “Quite interesting?” “Oh yes, Spike!” gushed Twilight. She did this for most books. “I’ve learned so much about war-fighting so far! It’s really quite intuitive when you get down to it...” Spike laughed. “Twilight, that’s your book.” He swung the boards shut to reveal the title: Principles of Military Movement, the doctrinal text she’d helped write for the War Office months ago. “Oh,” said Twilight quietly. She meekly returned it to the stack next to her camp bed. Compared to the library she had commanded in Ponyville, it was a pitiful collection. “You look like you need a coffee and a good bowl of oats,” said Spike, turning from the tent. Twilight grabbed her greatcoat and pulled it on over her red jacket. She followed Spike out of her tent. Captain Summer Set, her bodyguard, fell out from his position at the entrance and followed them into the bustling morning of the camp. Yawning soldiers were moving away from their dawn stand-to positions back to their tent lines to light cookfires. Bleary-eyes sentries were staggering back to their tents after a long, cold night for some much-needed sleep. Officers were marching smartly from their personal tents, straightening red tunics that were invariably smarter, brighter and better cut than those of their soldiers, striding confidently off to their messes for a hearty breakfast. Their soldiers were long-used to the dichotomy, but it still made Twilight’s lip curl. But behind it all there was something darker. Twilight had been noticing it for days: soldiers were going unshaven and their coats were left ungroomed. Their uniforms were crumpled and dirty and weapons were piled up sloppily next to their fires. Most worrying of all was their faces: their expressions were disgruntled and sullen. And then there were the civilians attached to the army. Harassed-looking railway ponies argued with staff officers over the troop shipments that were delaying the trains. Merchants under escort hawked eggs, oats, and illicit cider to tired soldiers. And foals cried or scurried underhoof as parents tried to comfort or chase them. Twilight had tried very hard to forget the heart-rending scenes in Ponyville when it had been decided that only half the families of the Ponyville Light Infantry could be supported on a march. Those that had been selected to come had been put to work here, washing and mending uniforms, stitching tents, cooking meals, and keeping books. Twilight did not want to think about what would happen to those they had had to leave behind. They would be supported by friends, she thought, but that was for now, at the start of a war that, a disconsolate, slightly tipsy Lieutenant Colonel had told her in the mess the other night, could last years. The senior officers’ mess was a marquee-like structure that adjoined the big top of the staff tent. The mood inside was sombre as a couple of dozen officers, their uniforms heavy with gold braid and medals, miserably contemplated their breakfasts. These mares and stallions, who formed the staff of the grandiosely-named Army of Braytain, knew better than anypony the awful strategic problem they faced. Their so-called army numbered less than ten thousand ponies in disparate, understrength units that had never worked together before. They had next-to no idea what was going on in the territories that they had abandoned and one day soon would be ordered to recover. They had precious-few officers who knew how to drill battalions into cohesive brigades and divisions. And every day they waited and tried to plan and tried to train, the situation deteriorated. A Pegasus aide-de-camp fluttered over to Twilight as she entered. “Your Highness, General Ember would like to see you in the staff tent before breakfast.” Twilight sighed. “More bad news, Captain?” “Is there any other kind these days, ma’am?” Twilight smiled weakly. “Good point.” She turned and strode the length of the mess tent, Spike and Summer Set hurrying behind her, to push through into the staff tent. An enormous trestle table dominated the centre of the staff tent, and it was strewn with maps in a dozen different scales. All were coated with pencil lines or model markers showing potential defensive positions, routes of march, fall-back positions, or campsites. One brown leather wall was completely covered by a massive map of Equestria, on which the strategic situation was updated daily. Areas known to be Royalist were shaded with blue grease pencil, areas that had declared for the Parliamentarians were red. And today, Twilight saw, another part of the map had been coloured red. “Fillydelphia has fallen,” growled a familiar voice behind her. Twilight turned to see the angry features of General Sir Warding Ember, General Officer Commanding (Designate), Army of Braytain. He did not look well. He was looking thinner every day, and his mane and mutton chop moustache was becoming and greyer and greyer. He favoured his right side, the result of being slashed by a spearpoint when Blueblood’s troops had stormed Canterlot Castle and never having had time to see it properly treated. “Just got the news this morning,” he continued wearily. “The Royal Fillydelphias were trapped in their barracks by Parliamentarian rioters for days. They managed to negotiate a peaceful withdrawal north. Princess Luna wasn’t prepared to authorise anything else.” “My own regiment…” muttered another pony, bitterly. Twilight did not recognise him. The brown Earth Pony wore the twin stars and crown of a Colonel and carried blue facings on his jacket. His cutie mark was a white rose atop a French horn. “Your Highness, this is Colonel Morning Star,” said Warding Ember. “He brought us the news. As it turns out he was trying to get a train across the country to his regiment.” Twilight stared worried at the map. “But if we’ve lost Fillydelphia, then Prancenburg…” “Prancenburg is safe for now,” said Morning Star. He took a pointer in his hoof and tapped the map, pointing at the easternmost spur of the Foal Mountains. “My regiment has fallen back north to the Pastern Pass: the level ground there between the Stirrup Spur and the sea is barely thirty feet wide with a single railway track. A small force there could hold off an attacker many times its size.” “Nevertheless, it must be defended,” growled Warding Ember. “And with the Parliamentarians holding Fillydelphia it’s far easier for them to support a force in the field there than it is for us. And then there’s Baltimare…” “It’s cut off,” completed Twilight. “Exactly, Your Highness,” said Warding Ember. “Floridea has not yet declared for either side, so the only way we can reliably support Baltimare is by sea or airship. It is of paramount importance that the Parliamentarians do not gain that harbour. Princess Celestia and Field Marshal Shining Armor have called a strategy conference for the army commanders in Neighcastle next week. You’ll be in attendance too, of course.” “I’d like to come with you if you don’t mind, sir,” chipped in Morning Star. “I need to get back to my regiment. From Neighcastle I can head to Prancenburg via the Crystal Empire…” “I can’t allow that, Morning,” said Warding Ember. “I need a pony of your calibre here. We have the Light Infantry, and the Shetlanders are arriving, but we’re not an army. We have no cavalry, precious little artillery, and soon we’re going to get new recruits coming in. I need you here to train them.” “But sir, my duty…” “The Fillydelphias will hold that pass without the help of one more Colonel, but here is sure to be the decisive point. What we don’t have in numbers, we need to make up for in quality. Your tactics won the Battle of the Recinante Cliffs for us: I need everypony here trained in them. Your duty is to Equestria, and your duty is here.” Morning Star’s jaw worked for a moment. “Very good sir,” he said quietly. *** “The Hero of the Recinante Cliffs?” asked Applejack that evening. “Well ah’m no’ worried, Twi. Morning Star’ll whip everypony into shape, for when we finally get to do sommin’ at any rate.” Twilight’s friends joined her for dinner in her tent that evening. The supper was, as usual, bland and unfulfilling. Twilight wasn’t too sure what it actually was: the rations were coming from somewhere, but the valley around Asshaye was poor farmland, which meant that the foraging parties and requisition teams had to march further and further afield to gather food. “Takes some pony to agree to that,” remarked Rainbow Dash, taking a swig of coffee. “Old Ember just asked him to abandon all the ponies he trained and fought with! Duty or not, I’d be court-martialled before I abandoned my troop!” Applejack and Rainbow Dash chattered about developments and groused about the petty injustices of army life like old professionals. They were, Twilight supposed. The Pegasus and the Earth Pony were the only two among them who had gone south with Shining Armor to fight the Changelings. The rest of them, Twilight, Rarity, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie, all sat uncomfortably on their campaign stools, new uniforms that they felt they had no right to hanging awkwardly on their bodies, and wondering how the two veterans could act so blasé about everything. “Well,” said Rarity heartily, as if she felt it was her duty to say something. “I for one am glad that something at last is happening, however minimal!” Rainbow Dash frowned. “If you’ve got something to say, Rarity, say it.” “I have said it,” said Rarity, evasively. Applejack fixed Rarity with a stern glare. “Ah’ll tell you wha’ ah tell ma Light Infantry, Rarity. We ain’t gonna be able ta work together if somepony’s being catty. Say wha’ ya mean an’ maybe we can fix it, but it’s only gonna fester otherwise.” “I am not ‘catty’!” cried Rarity haughtily. “I am merely expressing my… my…” And then it all seemed to tumble out of her. “Oh goodness, I just want something to happen! We’ve left our homes and our friends and we’ve been here for weeks and weeks and we’ve done nothing! I mean, I don’t want anypony to be hurt, but for heaven’s sake, we are at war! Why can’t the blasted thing just buck up and start?!” A silence settled over the tent. Rarity suddenly looked quite embarrassed, but everypony knew that she had just summarised what the entire army was thinking. Applejack sighed. “Ah know exactly wha’ ya mean, Rarity. Ah guess it was simpler durin’ the war: we were always marchin’ forwar’, and everypony always knew wha’ we were there to do. Bu’ here? Mah boys and girls can’t stop askin’ me why we had ta leave Ponyville, an’ ah can’t even tell ‘em wha’ we’re s’posed to do about it!” Twilight sadly cast her eyes over her friends. Rainbow Dash was nodding at Applejack’s statement, a miserable expression on her face. If that was what the soldiers among them thought, then for the rest it was even worse. Rarity, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy all wore the blue and green jackets of the Royal Army Supply Corps, but they were still civilians who had been handed uniforms and a single day of instruction before being set to work. “All we can do for now is wait,” she said quietly. “Wait and sew,” muttered Rarity. She plucked at the fabric of her jacket. “I have this jacket and a piece of paper that says I’m a Captain, and I tell a tent full of camp followers to sew uniforms and tents and blankets every day. I need to make ten thousand uniforms, ten thousand blankets, and three thousand tents. Who’s going to use all of those? Farmponies and clerks given another jacket and another piece of paper that says they’re soldiers. If we feel like this now, what’s it going to be like when they get here?” “I have twenty ponies a day coming to the medical tents,” whispered Fluttershy, head bowed over her tea. The quiet Pegasus had said even less since they had left Ponyville. After much convincing from Twilight, Warding Ember had put her with the field hospital staff. “They say they’re ill, or not sleeping, or not eating. I tell them all that nothing’s wrong with them, but they still keep coming. And I need to prepare three thousand hospital beds.” She looked up, her eyes shining. “Why do we need three thousand beds? Why are three thousand ponies going to be hurt?” “And winter’s coming,” said Pinkie Pie. Twilight had never known the bright pink Earth Pony to be anything other than exuberant, but now her expression was resigned and forlorn and her mane hung limp. At Twilight’s suggestion Warding Ember had put her in charge of maintaining morale, but right now Twilight couldn’t think of a job less suited for her. “And not nice pony-set-up winter either; real winter,” Pinkie continued, shuddering. “That’s going to be super-not-fun. We won’t be able to forage and we’ll only be able to bring food in by the railway. Right now we need forty-four tons of food a day for the ponies already here, but we’re going to have to bring in more and more food as more and more ponies arrive. If we get all the soldiers the army’s supposed to, we’ll need to bring in a hundred and ten tons of food a day. More food, on a single railway line, when we’ve gotta move ponies and spears and guns too, in the winter.” She shook her head miserably. “Everypony here is gonna get super-hungry super-quickly.” Twilight stared at Pinkie in amazement. “Pinkie, how did you work all that out?” Pinkie looked at her oddly. “I worked in a bakery, Twilight. Gotta know how to manage those stocks and flows!” Twilight planned to mention that to Warding Ember as soon as possible. “We have to make the best of what we have,” she said, trying to sound decisive. “I’m going to a strategy meeting soon, but we can’t fight in the snow. We have to sit out this winter. We can train and we can plan, but we’re going to have to wait.”