Chapter 15 - They Died With Their Horseshoes On
The cannon on the north wall of the Moonflower barked out yet another belt of flame as it rocked back on its mounting.
“Reload!” Sentry ordered, his voice already hoarse from shouting. In addition to the canon firing every thirty seconds or so, almost every unicorn in the mission was firing magic, mainly a mixture of stun spells and pyrotechnic magic, in the general direction of the enemy. The sound was almost unbelievable.
Even better though, the heavy fire had forced the advancing enemy down onto their bellies. They were now crawling along the open terrain, doing their best to avoid the massive amounts of fire coming their way. They’d certainly had a shock when they took the first hit. Once the cannon had sent out one or two ranging shots, Dusk had ordered the flak shells to be used. While they weren’t designed for ground combat, exploding directly over the heads of the enemy had decimated their initial assault force, and caused quite a few to break and turn tail.
However, the flak hadn’t lasted too long, and they were now back to using regular cannonballs, firing into the enemy columns as they advanced. They’d adapted quickly and spread themselves out to minimize casualties. The unicorns were acting as a mixture of sharpshooters, and as a means of providing further supressing fire. After all, as long as it forced the enemy to get down and slow up, the fire didn’t need to be accurate. As a result, it would take the Royal Guard longer to reach the Moonflower itself, and thus the Lunar garrison within could hold out just a little longer.
For the moment though, the battle was going their way. They hadn’t taken too many casualties yet and the enemy were spilling a lot of blood for every foot they advanced closer to the mission. Still, Dusk knew that this was an impossible battle. Heading up towards one of the lookout posts, he found Flintlock doing his best to direct the cannon fire.
“Flint!” Dusk called as he walked up the steps. The thestral pulled himself away from the telescope.
“Star! Good, you’re here. I think they’re trying different tactics at last.”
Up to this point, the Royal Guard had focussed all their energy on attacking the northern wall which faced San Maretonio. They’d advanced in columns and been quite easy pickings for the cannons, especially the flak shells. It had struck Dusk as a stupid approach; it allowed him to focus all of his resources on the one side, rather than being forced to spread himself thin defending three or four. At last it seemed, the Bright Lights were learning.
“They’re starting to spread out are they?” Dusk asked. Flintlock nodded and pointed at the extreme left and right of the enemy formation.
“They’ve stopped pressing forward almost entirely. Instead they’re heading outwards. They’re stretching their front line wider.” Dusk looked out at the seemingly expanding enemy force and frowned.
“Buffalo horns,” he declared. “Remember reading about the tactics the tribes out here used?” Flintlock nodded.
“Yeah. Makes sense though. They’ll keep spreading out, and then try and form a ring around us, overwhelm the defences.” Dusk thought for a moment.
“Alright, have the cannon shift fire to damage the edge of the line. Let’s make it harder for them to advance around.”
The Moonflower had four cannons, with one for each point of the compass. Of course, a lone cannon could do little against the vast army that was now attempting to encircle the mission. The gun crew first began by alternating the direction of the cannon; first firing on the far left flank, and then switching to the right. This naturally, slowed down the already ponderous fire rate and the enemy army actually sped up its advance.
In response, Dusk ordered two additional cannons brought to bear. In addition to the north facing emplacement, which was already engaged, the east and west guns were brought in. Pivoting round, the two guns were better suited to attacking the far flanks, and overcame the need for constant aim adjustment. On the downside though, it did mean firing the guns over everypony’s heads. The unicorns beneath the great guns certainly didn’t think it was the best idea.
Nonetheless, the tactics was, at least partially, effective. The steady outward expansion of the enemy force into a line was temporarily checked, whilst they were again pounded down the centre by the north facing gun. With the situation temporarily stabilised, the ponies in the Moonflower could afford a moment to catch their breath, caustic as it was from the cordite fumes that now hung in the air.
Meanwhile, a little way behind the enemy’s front line, Steel Pike watched events unfold with a certain cold detachment. Whilst for the thestrals, every stallion lost was a blow, the Royal Guard’s vast numbers afforded them a certain buffer. To quote Neighpoleon; ‘The death of one pony is a tragedy. The death of a million is a statistic.’. Pike did not have much of a close relationship with the five hundred ponies in his own unit, never mind the thousand that made up the attack force. As such, he was not particularly moved as he watched another two or three get blown up in the air by the impact of a cannonball.
If anything, he was annoyed. The advance was far too slow! The stupid foals were getting bogged down and taking cover, rather than pressing forward. It didn’t help that, like idiots, they had attacked in a column formation. What possessed them to do that, Pike had no idea; they knew they had cannons after all. Thus, he felt no pity when the first wave was cut down by what had to have been the bat ponies’ last few flak shells.
After that debacle, and some desperate shouting from commanders, the mass of golden armour had steadily began to spread out. But still, they tried to attack a single front, allowing the enemy to concentrate all his forces in one area. Did any of these foals go to the academy? Did any of them know anything about attacking an enemy stronghold?
Luckily, senior officers had then stepped in, holding their hooves, and telling them to use encirclement tactics to overwhelm the inadequate defences. Of course, by that point, the bat ponies had spotted what was happening. Now they had three of their damned cannons firing, one at the centre of the front, and one each on the exposed flanks. Progress was still criminally slow. It would probably take the better part of the day to surround them, and all the time, their numbers were being slowly bled off by cannons and unicorn sharpshooters.
“For Celestia’s sake!” Pike exclaimed. “Is this a battle or a snail race?” Another major, standing next to him, observing the advance as well, turned to him.
“Come on, Pike,” he replied. “It’s open ground with no cover and they’re taking heavy fire from their front. You can’t expect them to just run to their deaths.” Pike snorted and put a hoof to the bridge of his snout.
“That’s precisely what they’re supposed to do!” he snapped back. “These idiots couldn’t win a straight fight even if they had Celestia herself helping them. If they’d just complete the encirclement we could wrap this whole mess up and go home!”
“Well, by all means, major. If you think you can do a better job, head on out there yourself and relieve the battalion CO.” Pike glared at him, but made no move towards the front. Instead, he stormed off to prepare the next group of his unit.
As he stalked away, the officer noticed that a lone feather had fallen out of Pike’s wing. Casting a quick levitation spell, he brought it up to examine.
“Heh,” he muttered to himself. “Nopony but Pike deserves this so much.”
Whilst progress for the Royal Guard was slow, it was progress nonetheless. Taking moderate casualties as the cannons on the Moonflower steadily chipped away, they slowly encircled the tiny mission and its small band of defenders. By early afternoon, the Moonflower was under attack from three separate sides.
From the air, it looked as if the small mission was surrounded by a giant horseshoe. Attacks on the enemy’s flank were now pointless, and Dusk had earlier ordered the cannons to simply fire into the enemy formation. Since they were now in line formation, rather than a deep column though, a single cannonball had far less of an effect. The only upside was that it was still a great psychological weapon.
The ponies that were facing the Lunar guards were young, inexperienced. By modern standards, many of them were little more than colts. As such, they were not prepared for the frightening sounds of battle, the screams of the wounded, and the foul scent of copper blood and cordite fumes. So, while the advance continued, it was not an equal one, as large sections, every now and then, panicked and fell back a little, before more senior officers bullied them back into line.
An hour later, the previously clear horseshoe was now quite distorted, with bulges in the line here and there, and other areas that had not advanced a foot. In the grand scheme of things, the situation had become static, and the Royal Guard had lost its impetus.
“I honestly didn’t expect this,” Dusk said to Flintlock, as the north facing cannon barked out for the umpteenth time. “I would have thought that by now they’d be close to overrunning the defences. But look at them.” He gestured to the laughable mishmash that the Royal Guard called its front line.
“I don’t know, Dusk. Half of me wants to laugh at ‘em, the other half wants to scream,” Flintlock replied. The career soldier was equally appalled by the undisciplined rabble that, before long, would be forced to dig in to protect themselves.
All that the enemy needed to do was advance. The cannon fire wasn’t particularly strong, certainly not enough to check them. And yet all around them, the Royal Guard were at best crawling along towards them.
“It makes you wonder what they’ll do when they get close enough for our sharpshooters to start taking pot shots,” Dusk added.
When the attack had begun, all the unicorns had rushed to the ramparts to put up some shorter range defensive fire. However, two hours in, and the enemy had yet to come into the effective range of their magic. They ought to have been rushing at them, spending as little time as possible exposed to cannon fire, and cutting the time it would take to neutralise the sharpshooters. What in the name of Luna herself were they doing?
Back across in the Royal Guard camp, Pike was asking himself the same question. His troops were getting all but slaughtered out there. Not for the superior enemy fire, not for lack of a defence, but because they wouldn’t bucking move! After being called out earlier, he had plucked up the courage to go halfway out to the line. He’d yelled at anypony who would listen.
“Keep moving! Push forward!” he’d yelled. But the guards had all looked at him as if he were crazy, and continued to hunker down on their bellies. There was no cover for them, and it was only a matter of time before one of the guns zeroed in on them. There was now even talk of a general retreat in order to renew the attack.
Pike couldn’t quite put into polite words his feeling about that. At best the enemy had two hundred at his disposal, many of whom were wounded. They had a thousand committed, and a further four thousand in reserve. How could they be losing?! At length, the senior officers assembled for a rethink.
“Alright, what do we know?”
“Our first wave is bogged down about five hundred yards from the enemy stronghold, sir,” a captain replied. “The heavy cannon fire is making it difficult to advance, and with no cover we’re losing ponies rapidly.” Pike rolled his eyes.
“Well, we can’t dig into the earth that much, so there’s little hope of building trenches. Any suggestions?” Another officer, a unicorn major, spoke up.
“Pull back now and renew the attack tomorrow morning. If we keep pressing on, we’ll lose more ponies, and the night will give those thestrals the advantage.” Pike could stand the tedious debate no longer.
“We could do that,” he broke in. “Or we could, I don’t know, press on. The only reason we’re taking such losses is that those stupid foals won’t go forward.” The general turned to Pike.
“Major, those ‘stupid foals’ as you put it, are under heavy fire from large calibre guns with no cover.”
“Yes, but they wouldn’t be if they closed with the enemy. Artillery becomes less effective the closer you get.”
“And what of their unicorns?” another officer asked. “We know they have some excellent marksmen in there. Once they get under the guns, they’ll just be peppered by them.” Pike snorted. How could they not understand this?
“The same solution applies,” he responded, doing his best to keep his temper in check. “The sooner we breech their perimeter, the sooner we can put a stop to all their defensive fire. We just need to push forward!”
“Enough,” the general interrupted. “This attack has cost too many lives already; there’s no point trying to fix what is already clearly broken. We’ll pull what forces we have back toward our lines and try again tomorrow.”
“You can’t be serious!” Pike blurted out, temporarily forgetting he was addressing a superior officer. “We have a thousand ponies committed; we only need to kill two hundred. If we let up, they’ll have a chance to recover. Hay, they might even slip away in the night! Push forward, you stupid foal!”
“Major Steel Pike!” the general bellowed. All other conversation instantly died, and all eyes turned to Pike. “I will overlook your tone and language once, and only once. We will pull back until tomorrow morning, at which time, we will renew our attack. Until then, I do not want to hear another word out of you. Is that clear?” Pike remained silent, sulking like an errant schoolcolt.
“I said, is that clear, major? Or would you prefer the title of captain?” Pike fumed visibly, his face turning almost scarlet.
“Yes…sir,” he responded sourly. With that, he stormed out of the command tent.
Once again, the proud major had been made to look a fool, never mind get himself seriously reprimanded by the CO. Not something that he would take lying down. Pike could hardly believe that everything he had just sat through was real. An army of five thousand was being ordered to retreat in the face of two hundred weakened and battered opponents.
Heading out into the new camp, he looked out to the western horizon. The sun was barely beginning to set. There was still plenty of time to re-launch an attack and break the enemy’s defences tonight. All that was needed was a little encouragement. He began to think.
Eventually, the pegasus came across an artillery battery, one from his own unit. Said battery was oddly silent. The gun crew, previously resting, snapped to attention as he walked up.
“And just what in the name of Celestia do you think you’re doing?” Pike demanded as he walked up. “We’re attacking the enemy. Traditionally, that means the guns fire in support.” He sneered irritably at the lounging gun crew.
“Respectfully, major,” the more senior of the crew offered. “We aren’t in range to fire on the enemy. Command said putting us closer was too risky.” Pike had to restrain his jaw from dropping straight to the floor. A unit of artillery had been pulled, out of action, without casualties, because there was a fear it might get hit? What did those idiots think war was about? It was their job to stand there and get hit! And it was also their job to fire back!
“I can see the enemy from here. You can hit them easily,” Pike responded. “Elevate the gun and you’ll have more range. Or did you sleep through basic gunnery school?” The captain remained unruffled at Pike’s insult.
“Sir, if we do that, we won’t be nearly as accurate. Given how close our own forces are to the enemy, there’s a risk that we could hit some of our own.” Pike snorted dismissively and pawed at the ground.
“Do I look like I give a damn?” he asked. “Those oafs in charge have wasted enough time already playing things so safe. Elevate the guns to bring them to bear on the mission and begin indirect fire. That’s an order!” The gun crew paused for a moment. On the one hoof, they knew the order was at best ill-conceived. But on the other, insubordination in time of war meant execution on the spot. So, they began to load the cannon, and direct other crews to do the same.
Dusk could hardly believe his own eyes. With nothing but four cannons, and in spite of being almost entirely surrounded on three sides, the Moonflower had actually withstood the first of the enemy’s attacks. Looking out, he could see the golden armour of the Royal Guard forces, every now and again glinting in the early evening sunlight. They were actually pulling back!
He didn’t know why, nor did he really care. All that mattered was that they were indeed falling back. And, judging by the number of medical corpsmen he’d seen milling about, they’d taken quite heavy losses too. What he had expected to be a short and ill-fated last stand had turned, for the moment, into a successful defence. In a few more hours, it would be night time. Given how cautious the enemy had been so far, he doubted they would renew their attack until tomorrow.
“Flint, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Dusk asked. Flintlock too, was equally shocked.
“Yep. We just held off a thousand ponies with four guns and two hundred walking wounded.” Dusk shook his head in disbelief.
“I’m half tempted to try and make a break for it if they don’t try anything tonight.” It certainly would be a great ending to things. Having been surrounded by a vastly superior enemy, to then actually fight their way out and escape; it would be the coup de grace of Dusk’s career.
“Now, don’t count your chickens just yet, Dusk,” Flintlock warned.
Had he believed in fate, Dusk might have held Flintlock’s comments against him, given what happened next.
Across the way, toward the enemy’s lines, there was a sudden bang; a short sharp noise, accompanied by a bright flash. This was quickly followed by several more. Cannons? Surely not; they were well out of range for any kind of accurate fire. It would be a useless gesture. To Dusk’s amazement though, the eerie whistling of cannonballs began to resonate through the air.
“Incoming!” Flintlock yelled. “Take cover!” He then grabbed Dusk by the scruff of his neck and pulled him down to the ground. A moment later, the first shell landed. The ground shook; the blast was close, but not so close as to actually hit them. The next three had a similar effect, though the final one was perilously close. After that, the barrage stopped.
Getting up to their hooves, Dusk and Flintlock looked out to see what damage had been done. The only way those guns could even get near to the Moonflower, was if they were angled well beyond the norm. They traded accuracy for range.
In front of the north wall of the Moonflower, perhaps some three hundred yards away, had been the enemy’s line, which was in the process of falling back. Now though, the area was littered with craters. The crazy Bright Lights had shelled their own trying to reach the thestrals! A dozen or so guards looked to have been killed, and many more wounded.
“Luna’s blood!” Dusk muttered as he looked down on the carnage.
“Hold your fire, Celestia dammit!” the general bellowed. “I said belay firing!” The gun crews quickly stopped the reloading process.
“Have you foals gone absolutely mad?!” he exclaimed. “Who the hay ordered you to begin firing anyway?!” Behind the general, Pike cleared his throat.
“I did, sir,” he said, with an air of disgust in his voice. The general rounded on him angrily.
“Listen a moment, major,” he said quietly. “What do you hear?” Pike listened carefully. With the cannons silent again, there was little to be heard but the wind…and the screams of the guardsman he had just accidently shelled.
“You just killed at least a dozen guards and wounded a dozen more with that stunt. Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” By now, everypony was backing away from Steel Pike and gathering around the other officers. The crowd of onlookers quickly swelled.
“I was merely doing my duty…sir,” Pike answered through gritted teeth. “There is a good chance that we can hit the enemy, even from here. With covering fire, we can safely advance to the mission and eliminate the thestral scourge.” Pike’s lack of guilt stunned everypony. The general was silent a moment.
“Captain Steel Pike,” he began, which caused Pike’s eyes to bulge in their sockets. “You will remain in command of your unit for the duration of this expedition. The moment the enemy threat is eliminated, you will be placed under close arrest. The princess shall decide your fate, assuming I don’t kill you first.” With that, the general walked away, and the assembled crowd dispersed.
Pike fumed. That dog had busted him down, in front of everypony! Why? For doing his job? It was more than he could take. Looking over to the battery that had just fired, he noticed that the guns were once again reloaded and primed for action. Well, his mother had always said that if you wanted something done, you had to do it yourself.
Stalking over to the gun crew he grabbed the botefeux before anypony could stop him, and lit the fuses of all five guns again. The gun crews barely had time to get clear before the guns fired.
“Dear Luna, here they come again!” Flintlock warned. He couldn’t believe it, were they really that desperate to hit them? Hunkering down, he waited for the shells to land. Unfortunately, this time, the ponies in the Moonflower would not be so lucky. It may have been a sudden gust or updraft, a cannonball may have bounced on impact, nopony would ever know. What they did know though, was what happened when the cannonball landed.
Instead of the same close impact as before, this time, Flintlock felt the whole world shake. There was a deafening crash, followed by an explosion close at hoof. He felt a strong heat sear at his exposed coat.
Eventually, after what felt like almost a minute, the cataclysm passed. Getting to his hooves, Flintlock found himself in a changed world. Roughly fifty yards away from him, where the north facing cannon had been, there was now a smouldering hole in the Moonflower’s wall. At a best guess, the cannonball had hit the cordite stored near the gun, setting it off. He could make our through the acrid smoke the battered remains of the gun, now warped beyond use or repair. Suddenly, he heard a voice, faintly.
“Flint? Flint, are you okay?” It was Dusk, his voice was muffled; the explosion had damaged Flintlock’s hearing.
“I’m alright,” he replied, taking Dusk’s hoof to get fully back on his hooves. “I’m alright." He paused. "Am I alright?”
“Yeah, you’re fine, Flint,” Dusk replied. The thestral barked a short laugh.
“Good, quit looking at me like that.” Dusk turned to survey the damage.
“Well, we’ve lost our north gun, and there’s a great big hole in the north wall. I’d say we’re in trouble.” Flintlock laughed hollowly.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” The pair were then interrupted as Sentry, who had luckily been at the gatehouse when the impact happened, shouted a warning.
“They’re coming back!”
“See? Do you see?” Pike exclaimed. “Now’s the perfect opportunity to attack! There’s an entire section of their front exposed. We can keep up the cannon fire and bring our forces in under it. Their sharpshooters won’t stand a chance.”
The general and the other officers looked out towards the Moonflower, which was now smouldering from the last barrage. There was still a few more hours of daylight left. It was the perfect opportunity. But, there was no desire to reward Pike for his earlier mistake which had cost lives.
“Very well, Captain Steel Pike. We shall make another attempt on the mission.” The general made sure to again emphasise Pike demotion; he was not off the hook.
As for Pike himself, he was feeling more than a little pleased with himself. The enemy was now completely exposed and had lost a quarter of their defence. With further shelling now allowed, their fate was all but sealed. He quickly began to organise his unit for a renewed attack. Hopefully this time the cowardly idiots would do their job, push forward, and break through.
Sentry was correct; the enemy was starting to re-engage. With no cannon to impede them, the buffalo horns around the mission were quickly reformed. Worse still, that lucky shot seemed to have emboldened the Bright Lights, they’d started to bring in all their guns, shelling indiscriminately. Whilst the fire was inaccurate, it was still a threat.
It was very clear to Dusk what would happen next. With their north front exposed, the Bright Lights would start attacking there. The west and east cannons were now required to split their fire between their own facing and the exposed north, which meant they were even less effective than they would otherwise have been. Unicorn magic alone would not be enough to hold them.
The world shook as another cannonball landed close by, striking the wall and doing considerable damage.
“Sir, enemy forces are closing in on all sides,” Swift Sentry reported. “We’re taking a pounding from those guns too.” As he spoke, another cannonball landed in the courtyard, rocketing two unfortunate earth ponies skyward. Dusk shook his head in an effort to clear his mind; he could hardly hear himself think.
“They’ll at least have to stop the barrage once their own guards get in range. They won’t want to hit their own again. Is Captain Flintlock still at the east gatehouse?”
“Yes, sir. He’s directing cannon fire,” Sentry replied. Dusk nodded.
“Good. Run over there and tell him that I’m assigning him to that approach. He is to hold that wall as long as possible and then when his defences are breeched, or another front collapses, he is to fall back to the temple. When that’s done, I want you to look after things on the western wall. I’ll hold here. Understand?” Sentry nodded and took off.
Flintlock was more than happy to focus on the eastern side of the mission. It was a logical approach, he decided, to divide the officers up between the three fronts. The plan overall was still perfectly serviceable, they would slowly reduce their front as they were pushed back by the advancing enemy. For now though, said enemy was still a few hundred yards away and being peppered by cannon fire.
This time, the Royal Guard seemed determined to keep advancing. Or at least, the officers behind the line seemed to. Perhaps, Flintlock thought to himself, the Bright Lights had taken a leap out of the griffons’ book and had got themselves some ad hoc commissars. It certainly seemed that the Bright Lights were more scared of the officers behind them that were egging them on, than they were of the enemy arraying in front of them.
The lone cannon did some damage, but it could not hold back the enemy. Plus, with the continued inaccurate fire from the enemy’s own guns, it was difficult to zero in on them and aim properly, as every close impact knocked the gun about on its mounting. Luckily, as the Bright Lights closed, this fire tapered off; so at least their commanders weren’t trying to shell their own men again.
The advancing line of gold and blue, and grey and silver, was now coming into range of the unicorn sharpshooters, who had lined themselves along the wall. The high walls would offer them some cover and they gained a small advantage from their superior height on the catwalk. Flintlock prepared himself.
“Alright, stand to!” he ordered. Roughly two dozen unicorns prepared themselves.
“Make ready!” Flintlock called. The best defence would be volley fire, with all the unicorns firing at once for maximum impact.
“Take aim!” The unicorns’ horns now began to glow as they charged their magic and weaved the necessary spell. For a moment, the Moonflower was lit up with almost a hundred points of light, red, blue, gold, green, and pink.
“Fire!” Flintlock ordered. There was a terrible cacophony as the magic was released. It looked as if a wave of hot, white light shot from the defenders. The concentrated blast of magic took a heavy toll on the attackers. However, this time, they barely wavered, being forced on by the officers bringing up the rear. Flintlock then prepared to fire off another volley. They would keep that up for as long as they could. Once the enemy closed sufficiently, it would be a matter of each pony picking his target in an effort to keep them off the wall.
“Keep going you foals! Keep going!” Pike bellowed as the unicorns atop the wall let off another volley.
The noise was absolutely deafening. While his group had successfully closed to be no longer threatened by the cannon, others had not, and every now and then the battle was punctuated as another gun fired. This was made only worse by the blinding light that was the magic the unicorns were throwing at them.
Pike had honestly not expected such heavy resistance. From the bat ponies perhaps, but good, honest unicorns and earth ponies? They were holding fast and refusing to break. Meanwhile, his own near worthless command now required constant babysitting just to advance. He himself was currently no more than twenty yards behind the front line along with a load of other officers. Each time a whelp turned and tried to make a break for it, Pike forced him back into line.
How was it that these bat ponies, tired, wounded and all but defeated, were putting up such a defence, and yet his own fresh, eager troops were performing so poorly? Still, Pike knew that numbers would ultimately win out. They had been steadily advancing and any moment now they could start bringing up the ladders to scale the wall, in addition to forcing their way through the breech in the Moonflower’s wall that had been made when the powder keg exploded.
“Alright, bring up the scaling ladders!” Pike ordered sharply.
At this, four groups of ponies, each carrying a long ladder advanced up toward the wall. The unicorns were now no more than ten or fifteen feet away and had resorted to individual fire, with each one picking his own target. Naturally, they tried to pick off the earth ponies that carried the ladders.
A few moments later though, the ladders were in place. Ponies on the ramparts were being drawn away, much to Pike’s pleasure, as another group wormed their way through the breech into the courtyard. The wall would break before long, and then they would have them. Pike continued to watch, smiling, as the pegasi and earth ponies forced their way up the ladders and onto the ramparts.
As the Bright Lights forced their way up, Sentry lashed out again with a wing tip blade. At such close quarters it was the perfect tool, particularly if one went for his opponent’s eyes. They’d done well for quite a while; their surviving cannon had thinned the enemy a bit, as had the unicorns that were covering their approach. Now though, at such close range, things had come down to hoof to hoof combat, or hoof to wing as the case may be.
All three of the walls the Bright Lights were attacking were feeling a similar strain, particularly Colonel Dusk’s lot with the gaping hole in the wall. There were already smaller battles taking place inside the courtyard as the majority of ponies tried to hold the line on the ramparts.
“Keep pushing them back, everypony!” Sentry encouraged. As bad as things appeared, they were still holding strong for the moment, and forcing the enemy to shed quite a bit of blood in the process. Even with the scaling ladders and the breech in the wall, the enemy was still mainly held up by bottlenecks. Though of course, with each passing minute, the Lunar Guard was losing more and more ponies and ground.
Sentry remained confident though; they’d come through dangerous situation like this before after all. Plus, given the adrenaline rush he was experiencing, he was hardly feeling much in the way of fear.
He didn’t notice it at first; all he felt was this odd hollow feeling and something warm trickling down his coat and armour. He kept fighting regardless of it, but as he continued, he began to feel light headed and woozy. Only then did he think to look down.
That was when he saw the head of the spear, broken from its pole, buried quite deeply in his chest. Presumably, it must have occurred when he tackled that rather vicious earth pony at close quarters. Blood was trickling down at a rate of knots from the large wound. At the sight, Sentry’s strength began to fail him. It was as if his ignorance of his mortal wound had somehow sustained him a little while. In any case, his ability to fight and defend himself slackened.
About a minute later, with his vision now faltering, a Royal Guard, who had, like a few others, successfully climbed the wall, managed to slash at Sentry with a sabre. This time, the wound went through to his gut. The effect was almost instantaneous, and the poor young thestral, Swift Sentry, fell down dead at his post.
Flintlock, oblivious to the loss of Swift Sentry, was also having a hard time holding the line. It was clear that the western wall was going to be overrun soon. Royal Guards were steadily forcing their way onto the ramparts and pushing their own forces back. Once that wall collapsed, Flintlock knew he would be fighting on two fronts. When that moment came, he needed to immediately fall back to the temple, lest he and the others get cut off by the advancing Bright Lights.
The one upside to their situation was that the cannon fire had now halted completely, given that the two sides were so closely intertwined. Still, the hoof to hoof fighting was getting more and more brutal by the second; a consequence of that red signal flag. Most of the thestrals and unicorns had now resorted to using their less manoeuvrable weapons, such as the spears, as clubs, whilst officers did their best to parry with swords, and the thestrals used their wing tip blades to slash at their oncoming foe.
The Bright Lights were really starting to pile over the wall now, Flintlock knew that they would have to break soon; there were just too many of them. However, just as he was about to give the order to retreat, a familiar face entered the fight.
Flintlock had known Steel Pike before the war broke out. The two had even been what you might call friends. Not close friends of course, but they got on with each other. They had shared a posting in the old castle in the Everfree. It had actually caught Flintlock off guard a moment when they captured him during that first raid on the Royal Guard encampment. He had all but forgotten him after the sudden retreat back to the Moonflower.
The two officers spotted each other at virtually the same moment. Clambering over the wall, Pike drew his sword and lashed out at Flintlock. The thestral promptly parried and did his best to push back and force the pegasus off the wall. However, with the many other guards backing him, this proved impossible, and the fight soon moved to the ramparts, joining a dozen other fights between small groups.
“Not going to catch me napping this time, Flint!” Pike shouted as he lashed out again. Flintlock easily parried and backed away; Pike always was a tad too aggressive.
“I see your swordsmanship still hasn’t improved!” Flintlock shot back, counterattacking with his sword and a wing tip.
“Well I must be doing something right, captain,” Pike countered, turning his shoulder a moment to reveal his major rank insignia.
“Oh, where’d you get that? Mess management?” Flintlock jeered. This only made Pike angrier, which made him easier to dodge. Neither of them was able to gain the upper hoof though.
“No,” Pike replied. “I got it for exterminating the vermin in Atcanter!” The situation suddenly reversed. Flintlock swung his sword wildly, and lashed out at his opponent. Pike backed off desperately, having barely any time to block the vicious attacks. Quite quickly, Flintlock had him with his back against the wall, or rather, the edge of the ramparts. If he backed up any more, he’d drop twenty feet down into the courtyard. And given the amount of magic flying about, taking wing, the obvious escape, was tantamount to suicide.
With one final strike, Flintlock successfully disarmed his opponent; his sword went clattering out of his hoof, along the floor, and out of his reach. Flintlock placed the tip of his own weapon against Pike’s neck.
“Any last words, Bright Light?” he asked. Pike made no reply.
At that moment though, Flintlock suddenly found himself seized violently from behind as two pairs of hooves wrapped themselves around him, restraining him. He quickly found himself disarmed by his attackers, but also pulled away from Pike.
With a cruel casual motion, Pike retrieved his weapon, smiling at the sudden reversal of the situation. Flintlock realised that he had been grabbed by two of his lackeys. Pike never was a pony to fight fairly; he was like a schoolyard bully. He struggled as much as he could, but his legs and wings were entirely pinned, and with the dozen other fights going on around him, he could hardly hope for help. The two pegasi holding him then lifted him onto his hind legs, exposing his unarmoured gut.
Still held fast by the two pegasi, Flintlock watched as Pike returned, a twisted smile on his lips.
“Now that you mention in, Flint. Yes, I do have a few last words for you. I’ll see you, and all your bat pony friends, in Tartarus!” With one swift motion, and with Flintlock having no possible way to protect himself, Pike stabbed viciously between the plates of the thestrals armour. Flintlock did his best to hold his tongue, but the pain was immense, he began to taste blood on his tongue.
Still not satisfied, Pike twisted the sabre gently. Still, though, Flintlock hardly made a sound. He kept his eyes locked with the pegasus, unsettling him even in death. Satisfied, Pike sharply withdrew the weapon, and Flintlock was released. He dropped unceremoniously to the ground and didn’t move.
In one final act of cowardice and degradation, Pike walked over to Flintlock’s body and spat onto the thestral’s bloodied coat.
“Vermin,” Pike muttered.
Just then though, Pike was startled as his two ‘assistants’ dropped down dead. Seeing no obvious cause, he hurriedly backed away and moved towards the edge of the catwalk again. Both the pegasi had had their throats slashed by wing tip blades. Pike had not even heard either of them cry out. As he looked back at the bloody mess that was Flintlock and his own two guards, Pike saw the reason for their demise. Dusk stood before him.
Fury did not express what Dusk was currently feeling. Not did rage, or anger; nothing could. He had seen many things in his life; things that would, and had, made lesser stallions sick to their stomachs. War was not a pretty thing, even less so when it pitted brother against brother. He had seen bravery and cowardice, honour and disgrace. He thought he had seen everything under Luna’s moon.
Then he saw what Steel Pike did to Flintlock.
That was not soldiering, that was not an honourable death at the hooves of an enemy in battle.
That was murder. And in that moment, Dusk vowed that before he met his own fate, he would end that pegasus.
He had seen the whole thing from his own small battle on the other side of the mission’s walls. Flintlock had gained the upper hand, and was about to deal the killing blow, when he was grabbed from behind, held fast, and then killed by that pegasus. He immediately left his own post, trusting that they would be able to manage without him for a moment.
Swooping across the courtyard, he carefully avoided Pike’s gaze. His rage only intensified when he saw what Pike did to Flintlock’s corpse. Landing just behind the two guards that had held Flintlock while Pike attacked him, Dusk quickly lashed out with his wing blades. He didn’t care about those two; they were probably just following orders anyway, so he allowed them a quick death. Pike had then looked up, and seen only his two dead comrades. He was clearly a coward, since he promptly backed away and searched for a way to escape. It took him a few moments more to notice Dusk.
The thestral’s anger had now entered a new phase, a quiet anger, a serene anger. His face became calm and impassive. His voice was restrained and even, without the passion one might expect. But his eyes held a dark fire that could not be quenched
“My name is Colonel Star Dusk,” he said in a sombre tone. “You killed my best friend. Prepare to die.” And with that, he attacked.
Pike had thought that Flintlock was a tricky opponent. As a regular Lunar Guard, and a veteran of the war, he was an excellent swordsman, thanks to years of training and practice. But this bat pony almost put him to shame. He was older than Flintlock, with a few grey strands in his mane, but he was a fierce fighter.
He attacked swiftly, with a combination of his own sword, and his wingtip blades. Those things could slash a pony’s throat in one fell swoop, and Pike cursed himself for not having any on his own wings. He quickly found himself desperately parrying and he was pushed back by the angry thestral. It seemed like he never let up, every attack seemed to be followed by another. He followed no pattern, so Pike couldn’t find an opening through which he could counter his foe; he was on a constant defence.
The two continued their battle as Pike retreated down the steps toward the courtyard. He didn’t have anypony to save him this time, and he didn’t fancy getting pushed over the edge.
The courtyard was abuzz with battle; dozens of ponies were clashing with each other, with no clear lines between friend and foe. The battle was undoubtedly entering its final stages. But given his current situation, Pike was seriously worried that he wouldn’t survive to see their final victory.
The thestrals all seemed to be moving towards the large temple that dominated the mission. Perhaps they had fortified it as a place to make their last stand? It was where Pike was being pushed to by Dusk in any case. In a desperate bid to save himself, Pike tried to get inside Dusk’s head.
“What the hay are you still fighting for, bat pony?” he called out over clashing steel. “You’ve lost. In another hour, this place will be ours!”
“Your kin are quite welcome to have it, Bright Light. But you are not going to leave here alive!” He slashed out at Pike again, this time scoring a hit on his armour, producing a sharp clanging sound.
By now, they were actually going up the steps of the temple itself. Normally, Dusk would not even consider taking a fight inside such a holy sanctuary. But the Bright Lights had demanded no quarter, and so he would give them none. The surviving Lunar Guard forces were doing their best to form a line on the steps, to hold back the enemy for just a little longer.
Dusk, due to the ferocity of his attacks, was beginning to tire as the clashing ponies made their way into the temple. Looking around, there were perhaps no more than a dozen or so ponies left in Lunar armour. Still, they were giving it their all; every second the enemy was held here, was another second bought for the civilians to get away safely. Nevertheless, the Royal Guard was slowly pushing its way into the temple itself. At the far end, standing at the altar, was old Moonapple himself. He was standing just in front of the altar, firing the odd blast of magic from his horn, and clasping the small detonator in his hooves. With one push of that button, all the explosives would detonate, destroying the temple, the mission, and anything else near it.
However, Moonapple choice of position was rather unfortunate. Whilst it was rather fitting for him to be standing in front of the altar, defending the inner temple from intruders, he was poorly covered. In fact, he was completely exposed. Hostile unicorns were pouring in through the front double doors, firing indiscriminately. It was only a matter of time before he was hit.
Again, in a rather fitting way, the fatal hit stuck him in the chest; right where his heart was. The elderly grey unicorn remained standing for a moment, the only indication of injury being the scorch marks on his robes. A moment later though, the damage made itself known, and he collapsed to the floor, the detonator falling a few feet away on the steps to the altar.
Meanwhile, Dusk was beginning to find himself put on the defensive. Despite his efforts to control and direct his anger, and his excellent fighting skills, he was still noticeably older than Pike. The younger stallion would simply outlast him. Eventually, Dusk would slip up and Pike would seize the opportunity. So, the only option Dusk could think of was to take Pike with him. He looked to the detonator lying near the fallen Moonapple.
However, at that moment, Pike began to gain the upper hoof, catching Dusk on the foreleg and drawing blood. Now on the defensive, Dusk backed away, toward Moonapple. He took solace in the fact that he knew exactly how and when he was going to die. Even amidst all the chaos and his own desperate fight for survival, he made one last silent prayer to his fallen princess. Then…he lowered his guard.
Turning sharply, Pike lashed out with his hind legs, hitting Dusk in the chest with a powerful kick. He was instantly knocked off his hooves and landed on his back. He smiled to himself as he felt a slight point of pressure on his back. Pike held the tip of his sword against Dusk’s neck.
“Enough, bat pony,” he declared. “Say hello to your princess for me.” He then prepared to strike. Dusk’s smile broadened, confusing Pike in those final seconds.
“Why don’t we go and see her together?” he asked. Dusk then eased off the pressure on the switch under his back, activating the circuit. Milliseconds before it happened, Pike realised he had been outwitted, and Dusk allowed himself a laugh.
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My name is on tonio Montoya you killed my father prepare to die