Chapter 1: Greased Wheels on Steep Hills
The Bastard
"Up ahead, m'lord." The sergeant pointed. "Just off o' them hills, m'lord, by the falls, m'lord." His lisp caused spittle to fly off his tongue and land everywhere, making foam and slobber cling to his dirty beard. "Is been there all night. Some o' us-" John raised a mailed hand and nodded.
"That'll be all, sergeant. Thank you." John Capot said, eyes on a ledger upon which he scribbled. The sergeant bowed and muttered a last 'M'lord' before leaving. John sighed and closed the ledger, seeing his breath mist before his face. The captain of The Company of the White Rose was no lord, but the bastard son of a great man's brother. Still his men called him 'Lord' and bowed to him. 'The garbs and gold would be the ones they bow to, most like.'
Mind locked on thoughts of the journey ahead, John mounted his horse and signaled for one of his men to sound the advance. Tents had been brought down and loaded with the baggage, mules had carts to be pulled, horses had been saddled for those who owned them, and scouts had been sent out to make note of the terrain ahead, and anything of note to the North, East, and West. John Capot would not be taken unawares in strange lands.
And so they marched, when the men had formed into a column. John and his officers at the front, soldiers before the baggage and supply wagons. The Company of the White Rose had sailed south from far and farther on merchant fleets and ruler's contracts before finally being disbanded off the frozen shores of the Crystal Empire, much to Capot's distaste. The bitter cold was no friend to marching men, much less so to companies with dwindling coffers.
Capot and his men reached the falls by midday, and the captain of the company walked with his officers through the fields filled with corpses and feasting crows. A battle between equines, if the bodies did not lie. John counted thirty above the falls, horned ones with crossbows, but as he peered over the edge of the massive falls, he could see their targets. Hundreds more, dead and freezing all. Most of the arms and armors had been taken, but a cudgel and a dagger were scattered here and there. The equine levies had not seen a good dawn.
Capot watched as the crows flew, while his officers bickered about behind him. "I've seen enough. Resume the march. These bodies have already been stripped of any wealth they could posses." He returned to his horse and mounted. His thoughts were disquiet and filled with storms as they marched on through the snowy paths, for the bodies that lay slain beside the equines had been a dark omen. 'Those corpses belonged to no one on Equestria. Unless the dead lie, those were the bodies of jackals.
The Lady and The Redshirt
Hooves on cobblestone. The sound flew from the ground and into the air, mixing with the song of the midday breeze from the Eastern Sea. Salt and oak scents were on the air, as two mercenaries and their men made their way westwards, up the Royal Road, drawing the attention of the locals, and sending them rushing into their hovels in fright.
"They do not love us." She said. "They fear us, eh." The sound of hooves on the road became one with the song of the wind as it flew among the leaves of the trees, and made her companion smile. "Are you laughing at me, Russell?" Lady Patlestia asked, eyeing her companion in war and life.
Russell Striker was a lean man with a short, cropped beard of red that had begun to gray. He rode beside Patlestia at the head of the column, with ample view of the Royal Road stretching ahead of them in peaceful silence. The war had not touched the South of Equestria as it had the North, they'd heard, so they bid their vessels leave them by Hayseed Swamp, well inside Horseshoe Bay, much to the Pirate Admiral's disgust. 'You ask me to lead my galleys into a port at war! What will I do if the Greatlord were to blockade Horseshoe Bay? My galleys will be forced into a fight I may not like.' Gold had changed his mind, but it also had drained their coffers.
"No, I just like the way you talk." Russell straightened his cloak and dusted his bright red shirt, cause of his alias among his men. The wind was blowing with more strength, but the length to walk had grown shorter. It would be within the day that they'd find themselves below the great mountain to the West. The welcome at Baltimare had been a cold one. Horned equines on the wooden walls with crossbows at the ready, ballistas on their towers, and a warning from the gates. The Royal Custodies and The Hazard Team were strong, and that did not inspire confidence in a war-torn land. Baltimare had not changed their attitude once Russell and Lady Patlestia had told them who they were, if anything, they had just added more oil to be boiled and more quarrels to be passed to the crossbowmen.
However, a pony had been sent out to talk a few days after. Flying above the road, it had found them on the second day after they'd left, carrying a message telling them to make way to Canterlot, on the great mountain, to be hired by the Equestrian Tetrarchy for a contract of three hundred and fifty piesets, the world trade coin. A fortune for a man, and three hundred and fifty piesets per company was even better. The Hazard Team and The Royal Custodies had accepted without doubt. The Equestrian Tetrarchy had their swords.
And so they had marched with greater fervor towards the great mountain to the West. Side by side, until the great peak grew so large it blocked out the sun. They passed a forest and a mountain, a ridge, and soon they stood before a lake with a large town off in the near West. Canterlot was just before them.
The Eastern Hosts
Laughter exploded among the generals and captains seated along the great table. Jackals, minotaurs, gryphons, and dozens of others were among those that broke bread and shared wine at the table. Others were more varied; more exotic. Drake princes, even humans. Great princes and kings of many great empires, lords and masters of a thousand kingdoms, and mercenaries. Hundreds of them seated at the table. The Greatlord of Kaj had summoned them all under his banner, and they all had gathered outside the walls of Ajik of Redwater, largest city of the Eastern Continent.
The Southern Phoenix Brotherhood, led by the skilled Daniel Wynne, known as the 'Phoenix'. Renowned for the loyalty of their members, who were bound by spell and magic to be loyal or lose their genitals, upon entering the company; the Skyguard, armored warriors mounted atop gryphons clad in steel. Led by the mighty Bjorn Olsen, they were fierce and courageous in combat, and had a hatred for an enemy company at the service of the Tetrarchy that no man could match. The Knights of Candlehearth were also there. Fierce fighters who rode mighty lizards called the Cold Ones into battle, their leader was Cyrus de Montigau the third, a cunning man with more a taste for gold and victory than honor. The Order of The Burning Lance, the Kokyuna Yohai Rentai, and many others were assembled.
Rumor had it that they would march into Equestria soon enough, and nothing would be left to live.
