• Published 26th Dec 2012
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Feathered Heart - Demon Eyes Laharl



The exploration of the Gryphon Kingdom and the love between a human and a griffin. While securing trade routes, Gilda reminisces how the humans arrive, the trials they face together, and the one who stole her heart. Set in the Gentlemanverse.

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Chapter 12

Gilda watched with fascination as Fortrakt and Marco were once more locked in combat. She had to admit, the rematch between the two was far more entertaining than their first match they had back in Arnau three days ago. She couldn’t decide whether it was because Reyes wasn’t there to demand minimal rest between bouts, or because Marco was a fast learner.

She decided it was the latter. She couldn’t exactly comprehend why, but she had been getting curiouser and curiouser about the human under her care. Maybe it was the change of how they viewed each other, or maybe her natural inquisitiveness about a race she had yet to fully understand. Either way, she had found herself watching him closely the past few days.

Once again, Marco surprised her. She almost expected a repeat from before, with Fortrakt beating him easily. He was now holding his own. In fact, Marco won the first match by locking Fortrakt’s foreleg into what he called a Kimura. Judging by how quickly Fortrakt submitted, it was something rather painful, and the tiercel had been cautious ever since.

Fortrakt won the next three bouts; this was their fifth.

Marco, Gilda had to admit, was in fantastic form. He was tired, and yes, slower, but he still controlled the flow of the battle, dodging a lot of the tiercel’s strikes, and seemingly using his longer legs to create distance between them. Her partner, though, wasn’t completely useless, and was getting acclimated to Marco’s new strategy and slowly getting through the human’s defenses. Oddly, the two smiled at each other just right before the tiercel closed to claw-distance.

Fortrakt’s foreleg went to the left side of Marco’s head, but the human’s arms were faster. His left arm formed a triangle, hand covering his ear, while his right hand held it firm from the elbow. Not only did he block Fortrakt’s attack, but it also, apparently, counter-attacked, judging by the way the tiercel’s head snapped backwards. It took a moment for Gilda to realize that it was the raised elbow during the defensive motion that did the damage.

Marco grunted as he stepped forward, both his arms raised to the sides of his head, before his fists rocketed forward in three fast strikes. Fortrakt took one hit, but dodged the last two by rolling away. Marco followed aggressively, continuing his attack, dodging the two clumsily thrown claw strikes, before one finally hit him.

Feeling the change of momentum, Fortrakt charged in hard, butting his head into Marco’s stomach. A loud groan escaped the human’s lips before the tiercel’s arms encircled Marco’s sides, overpowered him, and threw him off his feet.

It wasn’t the first time Fortrakt had done that today. However, Gilda noted, it was the first time that Marco hadn’t rolled away. The tiercel seemed to have noticed that, and seizing his advantage, jumped up towards the downed human, hoping to pin him down.

Marco’s only response was to raise his legs, catching Fortrakt’s left foreleg and head between them as the griffin landed. He then smiled as his arms snaked around the trapped foreleg. Gilda suddenly sat straighter, recognizing that Kimura lock maneuver. And judging by the way the tiercel’s eyes widened, he hadn’t forgotten that either.

Fortrakt began to peck on Marco’s stomach with his beak, earning a pained growl from the human. That saved the tiercel and gave him enough time to move his foreleg out of reach as he began to try and jerk himself free.

In response, Marco’s fists shot out towards Fortrakt’s head repeatedly, earning a wince from the griffin. In an amazing show of flexibility, Marco used that distraction to hook his right leg under Fortrakt’s neck, grabbing his head with both his hands, forcing him downwards.

The response was immediate. Fortrakt’s eyes widened, his beak opened and he was gasping for air. His claw began to tap on the ground immediately, and Marco let go of his hold. Both of them rolled away, taking deep breaths as they laid on the ground.

“You both okay?” Gilda asked, approaching.

Fortrakt responded first, after a minute or so. “Fine. I didn’t… expect that.” He looked at Marco, who seemingly thought the ground the best bed he’d ever laid on. Looking back at Gilda, he asked, finally regaining his breath, “Are you sure you didn’t teach him anything? Didn’t tell him how I fought?”

“Nope,” she replied truthfully. “He just continued his morning runs and practised some moves in the past few days.”

“No one improves that fast,” Fortrakt muttered.

“Please,” Marco finally responded, though still out of breath. “I just… beat your… candy ass. Whiner.”

“You only beat him twice in five rounds,” Gilda corrected. “So, Fortrakt still wins.”

“For now,” Marco said. “I can still go on.”

“Please,” Fortrakt responded, “even my grandmother would run circles around you now.”

“Right,” Marco bit back, “and mine would do the same. Except she’s dead.”

Gilda and Fortrakt stared at him for a moment. Marco raised his hands in defeat.

“Okay, not my best comeback, but still.”

Fotrakt only chuckled. “Okay, another bout then?”

“Yeah, just… give me a few,” Marco responded.

Gilda caught sight of a shadow, and scanned the sky. It took her a moment to realize that a griffin was approaching. It took her a second later to recognize him—Giraldi. That could only mean one thing.

“Sorry, Marco,” she said, almost absently. “Time’s up. Maybe next time.”

“What are you—oh,” Fotrakt said, seeing the Spear Centurion approach. “You think this is it?”

“Ancestors, I hope so,” Gilda replied.

Marco was already sitting up and looked rather curious, while Fortrakt did some basic self-grooming to look at least presentable when Giraldi landed. Like a staunch professional, the latter immediately saluted, baring his neck as soon was he was able to.

“Sir.”

“Any news, Centurion?” Gilda asked.

“The best, sir,” Giraldi replied with a small smile, handing a rolled parchment to her. “It took a few days, but we found a place. Scouts have found a small Cloven outpost. It’s not a cluster, but it’s still a strategic location.”

The eagless unrolled the paper and studied the map area. She compared the relative distance between the outpost and the nearest cluster, and quickly calculated the time reinforcements would arrive once they initialized the attack. It was perfect.

“Time to give Corporal Imlay the good news,” she declared, rolling the document and hiding it a pocket of her armor. “I need to set up a meeting with him in the usual place. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Giraldi saluted again. “I’ll give the word, sir.” With that, he flew away.

“You know,” Fortrakt began, “I sometimes wonder if I should thank you, or hate you.”

One of Gilda’s eyes widened. “Why’s that?”

“I’m part of the Auxiliaris,” he replied. “I’m just supposed to be a support, mostly just guard the city. But since I partnered with you, who decided to put herself on the frontlines, that little dream seems to be fading and fading.”

Gilda laughed. “I’m sure that the accumulated stories of Fortrakt the Fearless would entertain the many, and bless his family for generations.”

The tiercel seemed to stand a little straighter at that, but then laughed as well. “If I live that long,” he said. “Fortrakt the Fearless, eh?”

“While it has a certain ring to it,” Marco joined in, finally recovered, “I think Fortrakt the One Who Fell to a Brown Ape would be more accurate.”

Fortrakt’s fist shot out fast, but Marco was ready, dodging it as he laughed. The tiercel rolled his eyes. “I am sure you need a little embellishment to numb those stings of defeats you usually suffer,” he replied loftily.

“But of course, Fearless,” Marco replied with a mock flourish, even barely baring his neck with deliberate slowness. “I am but a lowly human who choked you out just earlier.”

“If you two are done flirting,” Gilda interjected, which earned an irate glare from both of them, “we have work to do.”

“Most of us, at least,” Fortrakt added. And with a sly smile, his fist shot out again, this time hitting its mark. Marco groaned as he held his side, smiling slightly as he wagged a finger at Fortrakt. “I’ll be ready,” the tiercel continued, spreading his wings before launching himself in the air.

“Yeah, you better run!” Marco threatened, smile never leaving his face.

Gilda shook her head, chuckling at the display. Looking at the human, she gave him a nod. “That was a much better showing than Arnau.”

Marco scratched the back of his head, shuffling slightly. “Thanks. Having good motivation does wonders.”

Gilda blinked, remembering their last conversation. She laughed. “Why you sly little human,” she said.

Marco blinked at her, confused. “Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ me,” the eagless replied. “Trying to be good enough for a Round, eh? Who’s your prospective griffin?”

His lips parted just a few seconds before they closed. Then it formed to a mischievous smile. “Why, you are, Gilda,” he replied, poking her side sharply enough to make her almost yelp. Gilda’s wings automatically went high and slapped him gently in the face, but that didn’t stop him from laughing. “Am I good enough for that Round, yet?”

“In a thousand years, maybe,” Gilda replied, shaking her head. “If you work at it long enough, you might have a chance.”

Marco mock saluted her. “Yes ma’am.”

He moved away, grabbing the towel and bottle of water he brought with him. Gilda, in some fascination, watched as he wiped the sweat off his face, and began to take a long drink.

“Okay, so what is your motivation?” Gilda asked.

“If I slacked off, and Robbie found out, what do you think will happen?”

The eagless blinked. “That is good motivation.”

“The very best,” Marco replied. He then gave her an inquiring look. “Aren’t you going to be late for that meeting?”

“Not really,” she replied. “Are you going back to the inn?”

Marco nodded, placing the towel in one of his shoulders. “Yeah. I have to take a bath too.” He took another drink. “Busy later,” he finished before joining at her side. The two began to walk back towards the garrison.

“You’re busy?” Gilda asked.

“Yeah. Arnulf, Tertia, and Leonitus wanted to play with the tall ape today.” When Gilda blinked at the names, Marco explained, “The three cubs we picked up? Yeah. Them. Did you know Tertia has a good grasp of English even if she doesn’t speak it? I thought I was going to be stuck using sign language.”

The eagless rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sign language. Like that rude gesture you taught them. Are you planning to teach them anymore?”

“Not yet,” he replied with wide eyes. “But now that you’ve suggested it, I should teach them to twerk.”

Gilda blinked. “What’s a twerk?”

“It’s the act of bending your back slightly to expose a larger curvature of your rear, then shaking it like there’s no tomorrow.”

“You humans are weird.”

“Part of our charm, Gilda,” Marco replied, winking at her before laughing. “Nah, no rude gestures or anything. They don’t want to say it, but I think they just want to try and pin me down and tickle me to death once more.”

“It is a guaranteed winning move,” Gilda agreed. “Odd that Fortrakt still hasn’t caught on.”

“He knows not to do so because I would have threatened him with my shovel.”

That got Gilda laughing. Giving him a smile, she watched Marco take another sip before she realized something. “Hold on. We spoke in Aeric. How did you know I have a meeting, or the title I gave Fortrakt?” She took a moment to think about it, and found something else odd. “The cubs don’t speak Equestrian as well. How did you know their names? And how did you know that they wanted to play?”

Marco smiled, and leaned a bit forward, showing her his left ear. She didn’t notice it earlier, but now she could see a small gemstone studded in the soft flesh hanging underneath.

“Translation gem?” Gilda asked.

“Yup,” Marco replied, smiling widely. “Nydia said it was something basic and didn’t cost much energy to make, so I thought, why not?”

“Nydia?” the eagless asked.

“Yup. The Marines were consulting her. Something to do with the comms, and when she was free, I asked her for any suggestions. She gave me this gem. It’s not perfect though. You guys sound like Yoda when you speak your language.”

“Yoda?”

“Star Wars reference,” Marco replied. “We’ll add that to a list of movies for you to watch. Anyway, what I mean is that it just sounds odd to me.”

Gilda nodded. “That’s normal. That’s a reason why no one but tourists use those. So, you humans pierce your ears too?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Nydia did a good job too. Sometimes I am jealous that you guys have claws.”

She blinked. “Wait, she pierced your ear? And then gave you the gem?” she asked, feeling slightly annoyed.

“Yeah. Uh, why?”

Gilda exhaled slowly before waving him off. “It’s nothing.”

Marco didn’t seemed convinced. “She didn’t really hurt me,” he defended, which just annoyed her more.

“It’s not that,” she sighed. “Look, forget it.”

“If you say so,” he said. “She was a little skittish about it. And I had to tell her to pierce my left ear because she went for the right one first.” He then laughed, as if he just finished telling a joke.

“Uh, why? What’s wrong in putting it in the right?” the eagless asked.

“It’s a… human thing. You know what, nevermind.”

Gilda shrugged. “So, other than using a Magus Knight for a translation spell, you’re also taking baths, drinking water—I’m so glad that our upcoming war hasn’t limited your use of our water supplies.”

Marco grinned. “I’m a Filipino, Gilda. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s at conserving resources,” he replied.

“With bathing?”

“Depends on how you do it.” Marco looked at her. “How do you bathe? And I do mean that in the most platonic, friendliest, and most non-perverted way,” he added quickly when Gilda raised her wing. She smiled at that.

“We fill a tub with water, maybe add some soap, dip in, shake, and get out,” she replied.

“Ah, okay. Me, I get a small bucket and a towel. I moisten the towel, rub myself with it, soap if I want to, and I’m done.”

Gilda contemplated on that for a moment before nodding. She could see how Marco could do that. “Must be nice to have a flexible body. Like that last move you used on Fortrakt. We griffins are not that pliant. ”

“I actually thought I wasn’t going to be able to do it,” he admitted. “I felt a slight sprain on my ass—sorry, rear, when I got my leg under him. If things had gone bad, you’d see me walking a little funny.”

Gilda chuckled at the image. “But you were able to do it,” she said. “That’s the important thing. I can just imagine the great potential griffins would have if they were flexible as humans.”

“I’m guessing you won’t be as strong as you are now ,” Marco said. “More flexibility actually can limit pure strength.”

She blinked. Was that true? Still, she shook her head. “Maybe it’ll be a fair trade to be able to bathe with just a small bucket and a towel. Ancestors know we griffins need to bathe more without consuming more resources.”

Marco smiled mischievously. He made a show of sniffing loudly. “Huh. So that’s what I’m smelling. Joking! Joking!” he exclaimed as he dodged Gilda’s charge. He laughed when she missed, which turned louder when the eagless extended her longest digit upward. “Nice,” he finished, smile wide.

Gilda shook her head, still feeling the temptation of pinning him down the ground for that bath joke when she saw the inn a few paces away. That reminded her of her two other charges. “How’s Chris and Tara?” she asked.

“Tara’s being her normal self,” Marco replied. “Chris, though, is in much higher spirits.”

“Really?”

“Yup,” he said, shortly.

“You sound annoyed,” Gilda said.

“Yeah, well, Chris can be the most demanding guy,” Marco muttered. “He’s actually telling me to get soil and plant samples. Honestly, I think he just doesn’t like the idea that I’m goofing off with kids, or just hoping no one accuses me of being a pedophile. I didn’t want to tell him that the Marines are already having a go at that, so he’s late to the party.”

“Hey, Pedo Rico!” one of the Marines at the entrance of the inn greeted.

“See what I mean?” Marco replied.

Gilda chuckled, and nodded at the Marine before turning back to Marco. “Don’t go out of the town gates for your samples, Pedo Rico” she said.

“Oh shut it,” he replied with a small smile. After a moment, that disappeared. “Also, you don't have to worry about me. I'm not going to be stupid. Promise.”

Gilda watched as Marco went up the flight of stairs, and only moved after he disappeared from view. Shaking her head, she walked to the left, towards the conference room.

She had no idea what the inn’s name was, nor was she interested. The past few days had kept her relatively busy with more meetings with the First Spear and the temporarily-assigned officers as they planned their defenses. She was acutely aware of the enemy movement so far, and thankfully, her fears of waking up the next day to a sea of Cloven hadn’t happened yet.

She turned to the right, the corridor leading towards a wide door with two more Marines guarding it. They gave her a nod, and she entered the doorway to the conference room, which was transformed into something she would normally see in a barracks.

The tables were moved to the side, and she saw a few Marines in less elaborate uniforms. In fact, they wore shirts like Marco usually wore, except in solid olive green color. They were working on their weapons which, to her surprise, were dismantled into smaller parts. The Marines looked a bit greasy, but showed no outward signs of emotion as they began to reassemble them in a series of clicks.

Fortrakt would have loved to see that, Gilda thought before looking at another area. There were stacks of metallic boxes in a corner, and two Marines studying them. One of them was Imlay. Approaching them, she waited until their discussion was over before she called the Corporal’s attention.

“Ma’am,” Imlay replied.

“I’m assuming Giraldi sent word?”

“Yes ma’am. We’re preparing as we speak.”

Gilda nodded. “Was there any trouble with the ponies?”

“No trouble, really,” he said. “They were motivated, and the men got along with them. We taught them the commands we usually use, and so far they’ve responded well. I am actually more worried about how they will act under pressure, but we’re ready for that.”

“And how did the modifications work?” she asked.

“They work perfectly.”

Imlay led Gilda to the back of the inn, which had quite an open space. In fact, Gilda wondered why Marco insisted that they train a little further off when there was a perfectly usable training area just a few paces away, only to file that thought away when she saw how full it was. There were a few Marines sparring in one corner, and another group chatting with Nydia. Seeing her, Gilda felt her annoyance return. Turning to another direction, she spotted a few more Marines taking it easy under a few trees. She even saw one with his back turned, sitting on a large stone a little ways away, facing the wall, and doing something with his hands.

Imlay approached the Marines with Nydia. “Anderson,” he called, “any solution to unfuck our comms once magical shit flies everywhere?”

“Actually, yeah, Corporal,” Anderson replied, smiling. He offered his palm, and showed them a small gem. “All we need is some fucking bling.”

Gilda looked at Nydia. She half-wondered where was she getting those gemstones. “Are those—?”

Nydia nodded. “Training gems.”

“How do they work?” Imlay asked.

“They isolate any outside magical energy around a small area,” Nydia explained. “While it won’t work if magic is directly aimed at the gem-holder, it should be enough to stop any stray magical energy from interfering with the, uh…”

“Radios, or comms,” Anderson helpfully inputted.

Nydia just nodded, smiling slightly.

“Great,” Imlay said. “We’re going to need a few of those. Are they expensive to make?”

The mage griffin shook her head. “They are actually pretty cheap and easy to create. I’ve already have four ready. The rest will be done shortly.”

Gilda smiled. “Good job, Magus Knight.”

Her smile went even bigger. “Thank you, sir.”

Imlay looked to his left, and Gilda spotted more Marines entering the area. She recognized them as the ones who were working on their weapons. The Corporal, in an interesting move, placed two fingers in his mouth and let out a very loud trill that got the attention of every Marine. Those that were sparring stopped; the ones that were resting went up immediately; and the one that had his back turned seemed to curse, stood up, and lifted his pants.

“My first combat-jack,” the Marine muttered when he approached.

“Told ya should have been faster, Lenihan,” Anderson said, smiling slightly.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Imlay began. “I’m not much of a speech-giver, so let me give it to you straight. We have some good news and some bad news. Bad news, vacation’s over. The good news? You get to kill bad guys.”

All of them grinned.

“We got a target, Corporal?”

“Yes we do,” Imlay replied, nodding towards Gilda. Understanding, she grabbed and unrolled the parchment she had, and let the Marines around her look at the map.

“We’re going to assault this outpost a few leagues west of the nearest Cluster. Judging from the distance, we’ll have an hour, maybe less, before any reinforcements come at us.”

“What are we expecting in the outpost?” Imlay asked.

“Scouts reported thirty, maybe forty Cloven. There could be more, though, considering they have spotted a few birthing pods. Minimum flyers, though there might be a few Corrupted mages.”

“Oh yeah,” one of the Marines—Guerrero, if she recalled correctly—declared. “Leave it to the Griffies to give fourteen Marines that many kills.”

“Thirteen,” Imlay corrected. “Dunbar’s still recovering from the crash. And I’m still thinking of leaving one or two here for the civilians.”

There was a murmur amongst them, before they nodded.

“So, what’s our objective?”

“Every Cloven outpost or cluster has this sort of creeping sludge around it,” Gilda replied. “It takes nutrients from the soil and plants around it, which in turn the Cloven use to feed. It also acts as a sentry that alerts them if anything steps on it.”

“Fucking Zerg, I tell you,” one of the Marines whispered.

“There’s some sort of structure that produces it,” she continued. She paused for a moment. “According to our history, it looks like some sort of large bulbous heart.”

The Marines looked at her oddly. “Heart?” one asked.

He wasn’t the only one. Even the usually calm Imlay had an incredulous look in his face. Gilda could only shrug, not knowing how else to explain it.

“Well, fuck, at least that’s easy to spot, yeah?” Anderson said.

“The tactics the griffins used were to form a fast pushing shieldwall to get a Magus Knight close enough to use a spell on it,” the eagless continued.

“So,” Guerrero muttered, “basically, fight forty or more griffy clones, clear the way for The Nyds to bring down the motherfucking thunder?”

“The Nyds?” Gilda asked.

“Um, that’s what they call me, sir,” Nydia replied, almost shyly. That made one of Gilda’s eyes widen in surprise.

Imlay was deep in thought. “Let’s say we do bring it down, how long will it take for the Cloven to build another up?”

“Maybe a few days, that is, if they rebuild it,” Gilda replied. When given a questioning gaze, she shrugged again. “Apparently, they sometimes don’t rebuild their outposts or clusters in the same area.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Anderson said. “Deny the enemy, fuck their shit up.”

“Hopefully, they won’t fuck ours first,” Lenihan replied. “Forty to sixty against thirteen of us plus a few griffins? Those are long odds.”

“Get used to it, Lenihan,” Imlay gently rebuked. “Odds will always be against us, especially when fighting an enemy that can apparently build an army in a matter of weeks. However, we’re Marines; we make do.” He looked at the rest of them, and spoke with a deeper, harder tone. “Be prepared to come heavy. We’ll have griffin support, but I want us to do the heavy lifting. This here”—he pointed towards the outpost—“is a test. The griffins in this garrison don’t expect much of us. They think that we Marines are a bunch of braggarts, and in their infinite wisdom, believe that this is all we can handle. We will prove them wrong.”

“Fuck yeah!” Guerrero declared.

“Let’s go win them the war, gentlemen,” Imlay finished. “We’re Oscar Mike in two hours.”

Cheers broke out, and the the rest of them began to fan out. Gilda looked at the Corporal for a moment, a small smile making its way to her face. Imlay looked at her for a moment, and asked, “What?”

‘I’m not much of a speech-giver’?”

“I never said I wasn’t good at it,” the Corporal replied.

She rolled her eyes. “As you say, Corporal.”

He laughed. “I’m going to check on the wagons. Would you like to see them?”

Gilda wanted to say yes immediately. She had been hearing about the modifications done on the pony wagons, especially from the First Spear who found it annoying that she reassigned some blacksmiths to help the Marines with the metalwork. Even then, she hadn’t really seen them yet. Giraldi also seemed to be devoid of any words when trying to explain what was being done. However, seeing Nydia, she looked at Imlay and said, “Give me a few minutes.”

The Corporal nodded, and she went straight to Nydia, who was still talking to Anderson. Waiting for them to finish their conversation, she swiftly approached to the mage’s side.

“You have been busy,” she said in a neutral tone.

Nydia almost jumped, turned to her and saluted. “Sir. Uh, yes, sir?”

“Can we talk in private, Knight?”

The mage griffin slowly nodded, a little apprehensive. They walked a bit towards the wall, away from the Marines, before Gilda looked at her.

“While I am impressed that you’re taking initiative to help our allies, what is this I’ve been hearing you Marking a human under my care?”

Nydia’s eyes practically popped out of her head. “Mar—sir, it’s not like that!”

“So, you did not use your claw to puncture Marco and give him something for him to display?”

The mage blushed deep red. She mumbled something Gilda didn’t quite catch.

“What was that?”

“He insisted, sir,” Nydia replied. “And he wouldn’t take it that way, would he?”

Gilda’s expression softened. “No, maybe not. But that won’t mean the other griffins wouldn’t read it that way. Next time, if he’s about to ask something awkward, don’t be afraid to tell him. He touched the base of my wings once.”

The mage stared.

“Yeah,” Gilda continued. “I attacked him. Making him a little less ignorant is not only convenient for us, but also a good way to ensure his safety.”

“Yes, sir. And… uh, sorry sir. I didn’t mean to, uh, intrude.”

One of Gilda’s eyes widened. “Intrude?”

“Nothing, sir!” She saluted, before suddenly dashing away.

Gilda watched the mage, a little confused by what she said before shaking her head.

“What was that about?”

The eagless turned to her right, seeing Imlay watching her with a curious expression. She waved him off.

“It’s nothing.”

Imlay kept his face neutral as he replied, “Right, ma’am.”

Gilda wondered what was it about humans and not believing her. Straightening up slightly, she asked, “So, Corporal, about those wagons?”

He smiled. “Shall we, ma’am?”

“Sure, let’s go.”

Surprisingly, the wagons were nearby, though a little out of the way from view. Just outside the building, turning right to a narrow pathway between the inn and the building next to it, Imlay and two other Marines led the way until they came up to a clearing, where she saw them: two wooden wagons standing in a middle of a clutter of cut metal.

“Wow,” was all she said.

The wooden pony wagons were usually enclosed, but the roof was removed, and the sides were reinforced metal plates. The wheels were also reinforced and, while normally attached directly underneath the body, were connected to what looked like some sort of bent metal that raised the body slightly higher. The front of the wagons had a metallic structure which looked like an emplacement of some kind, along with a curved metal shield. Underneath that was a small dip, like a bucket.

All in all, the wagon a griffin would normally find carrying harvests looked ready to fight a war.

“First Recon had to work with Humvees,” one of the Marines beside her declared. “We pimped out fucking wooden wagons.”

“Not bad for three days of work and planning,” Imlay agreed.

Gilda walked around the wagon, inspecting every angle. Her gaze went to the emplacement. “What are you putting there?”

“We’re mounting our fifty cal on that,” Imlay replied.

The eagless blinked, remembering the gun that devastated the heavily-armored Cloven. “You have two of them?”

Imlay grinned. “I wish. No, the second was to ensure that even if we lose a wagon, it won’t take days to build another mount. All we have to do is transfer the fifty cal from one wagon to another.”

“Wish we had a proper ring-mount, though,” the other Marine muttered.

Imlay was unperturbed. “It’s not perfect, but it’ll do. We’ll just have to improvise.”

“What’s a ring mount?” Gilda asked.

“It’s something that allows the gunner and the fifty cal to turn around in a complete circle,” Imlay explained. “It allows them to cover multiple direction.”

“When can you build one?”

“I don’t know if we can,” the Corporal replied. “We’re kinda stuck using oversimplified designs to do basic jobs. Even getting the mount to move at small angles proved to be almost impossible, and we’re not really engineers. But, like I said, we’ll make do.”

Gilda nodded, then looked back at the wagons. “And what are these?” she asked, pointing at the wheels.

“Leaf springs,” the other Marine replied. When Gilda still looked confused, he continued, “They allow the wheels to bounce up and down when they hit something. So instead of damaging the wagon, it’ll just take the bump, and flex back when it’s back on more even ground. With the metal reinforcements around it, this baby can go off-road to a limit.”

Gilda looked at the wheel in awe. “That’s… genius!” And it really was. One of her fears was getting to each target location slowly because the wagons would have to strictly follow a fixed pathway. Any strong bump could shatter the wooden frame and that would strand the Marines. She didn’t want to think if that happened while they were being chased. However, if the modifications and this leaf spring could allow them to take shorter routes, then they could definitely be more flexible on where to strike.

Any doubts she had on Imlay’s plan faded. Impossibly fast strikes against the enemy was proving to be more viable than she thought. A little hope surged into her as she realized that they wouldn’t just be waiting for the enemy to march on their footsteps. They could take the fight to them.

The Cloven wouldn’t know what hit them.

Author's Note:

My usual thanks to shira (who really did actually do something :trollestia:), coandco, Permanent Temporary, Eratosthenes, TownCrier, and Ponyboy245.