The Black Company in Equestria

“This could be a problem.”

I was standing at the foot of the citadel wall with Inkwell and several guards.

“I don't see the problem.” Inkwell said. “After all, the guards can still use the wall.”

“True enough.” I said. “But if we humans need to use it in an emergency...” I stuck an arm into the wall, wiggled it around. “...we're out of luck. Hell, if Grayborn breaches the lower wall, he can literally walk right through this one.”

“Relax, Marus, we're working on it.” Jacky Boy said as he strode past. “Besides, I thought you were supposed to stick with their lordships.”

“Stratus is busy and Cirrus left to go inspect the troops with Lamb and Egg. What are you doing up here anyway?”

“Jackal's supervising the work teams on the lower wall. He sent me back up here to get one of their lordships to sign off on some demolition.”

Inkwell started. “Demolition?”

“Minor demolition.” Jacky Boy reassured him. “We found a couple of blocked fields of fire.”

“Oh my.” The unicorn sounded nervous. “Perhaps I'd better come with you.”

“Whatever. So, Stratus?”

“Main hall.” I said absently, staring at the wall. A glimmer of an idea was beginning to take shape in my head.

I turned to the guard at my side. “I need some volunteers.”

Night was falling when they called us in for dinner. I found Cirrus, Stratus, and Inkwell in the main hall.

“Your brothers will not be joining us.” Stratus announced. “They informed us that they would be staying in lower Windsoar until their work is done.”

“Fine by me. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if they work most nights too.”

“And you?” Stratus asked teasingly. “Are you going to work all night?”

“Lamb assigned me to be our go-between with you.” I grinned. “So I'm not working nights unless you are.”

Cirrus looked at me oddly. “Are all your kind so...driven?”

“Dear,” Stratus chided him gently, “they're called humans.”

I swallowed a massive wad of greenery. “Its alright. If I tried reciting all the dirty names we've been called over the years we'd be here 'till breakfast.”

Inkwell said. “I for one will be glad when this is over and we can have a proper talk. I have had several long discussions with the ponies you brought in, but I would like to learn more about you and your world from your own mouth. The meeting of two intelligent races is a momentous event, and I am saddened that it is blighted by such conflict.”

“I wouldn't mind filling you in on some things either, but I think we're going to be a bit preoccupied for the time being.” I waved a fork at Cirrus. “Speaking of, there's something I need to ask you. You're the lord of Windsoar, but is there anyone you owe allegiance to? A king or sultan or anything like that?”

“I serve their royal majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, rulers of Equestria.” Cirrus said proudly.

“Princesses? No king or queen?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Well, in my world, princesses are usually next in line to the throne. They don't actually rule, they become queens when they assume the throne.”

“Interesting.” Stratus said. “Are there many such rulers in your world?”

“Oh, wagonloads. Put a few on the throne ourselves, actually.”

Cirrus looked confused. “So you serve no ruler?”

“The Company serves the highest bidder, whether that's the king or his upstart brother. Or his chancellor. Lots of ambitious chancellors.”

Stratus said. “Strange, to serve so many different masters.”

I shrugged. “Its what we do. We don't care about politics. But getting back to my original question, if you owe allegiance to these princesses, isn't it your duty to inform them of this threat to their kingdom?”

Cirrus stiffened. “This invasion occurred in our lands and it will be dealt with by us. I see no need to trouble the princess with it.”

“In case you haven't noticed, Grayborn's occupied a good chunk of your lands and is using your people as slaves. At what point does this become serious enough to pass up to your superiors?”

“The invasion is contained.” Cirrus said through gritted teeth. “The enemy will penetrate no further into our lands. We have held them at bay for months, and now we will turn the tide. Your arrival here is welcome, of course, but not necessary for victory. We will defeat these invaders and drive them out.”

While I sputtered over that, Stratus seized the chance to turn the conversation to less dangerous topics.

Nobles. I swear, there's nothing worse than someone who thinks he's above it all. Even with all his arrogance, I hoped he was right, although my gut told me that we only had a week or two before Grayborn was baying at the gates. I didn't like our chances, and I didn't like Cirrus' attitude towards all this. I didn't know what kind of power structure Equestria had, but in our world, nobles who didn't request aid from their lord when invaded were either looking to break away on their own or were working for the other side. Maybe there was more to this than what I was seeing. I was operating under a pretty heavy handicap, what with having no knowledge of local politics or history. I decided to do something about that.

After dinner I hunted down Inkwell and got him to meet me down in our quarters with an armload of maps and records. Well, hornload in his case.

“Get me a map.” I said as he started sorting through the papers.

He unrolled a hefty parchment which covered half the table.

“We're here.” he said, pointing.

I studied the map for a long time, memorizing as much as I could while he pointed out cities and landmarks. The detail was excellent, although I suppose that had something to do with flying cartographers.

“Right.” I finally said. “I think I understand the lay of the land. Now, fill me in on the political landscape. To start, are there any other noble houses in this area?”

Inkwell sighed. “Yes.” He pointed to a city labeled Trottingham. “This is the home of the Silvershoes. As you can see, they are our neighbors to the south. Unfortunately, they are also our bitter rivals.”

“Why?”

Inkwell shook his head like someone who had been asked that question many times before. “It is an old feud. If you gave me a fortnight to search the records I might be able to uncover the cause, but as it stands, who can say?”

“Are they stronger than you? Can their army match yours?”

“I would think not. They are an old house, related by blood to the princesses in fact, but their strength lies in money and connections, not arms.”

“Interesting. So they have a claim for the throne then?”

“I suppose. The head of House Silvershoe is also the princesses' nephew. I do not believe that the princesses will be abdicating the throne anytime soon, however.”

“What about a coup? Is there any possibility that he would overthrow the princesses and take the throne for himself?”

Inkwell laughed. “I do not think so, Marus. In the nearly two thousand years that the princesses have ruled, there has never been any attempted rebellion by the nobles.”

I held up a hand. “As impressive as that is, go back to the part before that, because I'm pretty sure you just said they've been ruling for two thousand years.”

“Well, not quite two thousand, but-”

“Forget the specifics. They've been ruling for a hell of a long time. Are they immortal?”

“I believe so, yes. Of course, the only ones who would know for sure are the princesses, and they are known for being rather tight-lipped about their past.”

“Alright, so what makes them special?”

“The princesses are alicorns. They possess the natures and abilities of all three pony races, as well as being physically larger. I would estimate Celestia as being about your height, while her sister is a bit smaller.”

“Are there any alicorn nobles?”

“No, most nobles are unicorns, although there are some earth pony and pegasus nobility. There are only two other alicorns in Equestria: Princess Cadance of the Crystal Empire and Princess Twilight Sparkle of Ponyville.”

“So all alicorns are princesses?”

“It...would seem that the two are related, yes.”

I chuckled. “Ink, your political system makes no damn sense. You've got four princesses but no king or queen.”

I think he took that a little personally. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to prove me wrong by going over the history of Equestria, starting with something called the 'Age of the Three Kingdoms' before shifting into the 'Time of Discord' and finishing with the modern age of the 'Diarchy'.

“Fascinating.” I said, when he finally ran out of breath. “Now, if you're quite done with the history lesson, I've got another question.” I held up the most recent record book. “What are the 'Elements of Harmony'?”

The next morning I hiked down the mountain to see what my brothers had been up to. I found Lamb and Egg on the parade ground with the Windsoar guards. Egg was beating the crap out some pegasi with a wooden sword. Lamb was shouting encouragement and advice.

“Move side to side!” he bellowed as a pegasus was smacked out of the air by Egg. “Don't attack straight on!”

A pegasus charged in from the side. Egg sidestepped and slashed up with his sword, clipping a wing. The pegasus spiraled into the ground. I noticed a row of dazed guards sitting off to the side, groaning and holding bruised limbs.

Another pegasus shot in low to slam into the side of Egg's leg.

“Good shot! Go for the back of the knee next time!” Lamb tapped the body part in question. “Clip the knee, finish 'em on the ground!”

He noticed me watching and strolled over, still bellowing encouragement.

“Morning, Marus. How are things in the citadel?”

“Well enough. Spent last night going over pony history with Inkwell.” I filled him in on a few of the more relevant details.

“Four princesses but no queen?”

“Yeah, I said the same thing.”

“Huh. Well, I guess if it works...”

“Right. The other thing is this 'Elements of Harmony' business. I couldn't get a straight answer out of Inkwell-”

“Wrap your legs around his neck! Choke him!”

“-but apparently they've figured out a way to harness the power of emotion, or something close to that.”

“No shit?”

“Inkwell's only heard about it secondhand, but apparently there's these six ponies that each represent an 'element', or quality respected by all ponies: honor, generosity, kindness, things like that.”

“Go for the eyes! Gouge his eyes-oh right, no fingers.”

“Each of the six has a gem that they can use to focus or channel their element in combat. Now, it only works when all six are together-”

“Don't be afraid to bite, son, got those teeth for a reason!”

“-but when they are, its apparently pretty devastating.”

“How devastating we talking?”

“I had Inkwell get me the records. In the last three years, there have been three serious threats to Equestria, not counting that coup up in the north.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “First, the younger princess went crazy and tried to seize the throne for herself. Second, some kind of elemental spirit of chaos got loose or broke out from somewhere. Third, some kind of shapeshifter tried to infiltrate the palace and kill the princesses.”

“Exciting times.”

“Yeah, but get this: in the first two cases, the Elements defeated the threat when no one else could touch them. The third case is a little less clear, apparently they had some secondary help or something.”

“Sounds like the kind of help we could use.”

“To put it mildly. If these records are right, this kind of power makes Grayborn look like a backwoods hedge wizard. If we can get them here, its all over but the screaming.”

“Alright, good job, he's down! Everyone up!” Lamb strode past me. “One moment.”

I turned around. Egg was nearly invisible under a pile of pegasi. Lamb started pulling them off.

“Good job, boys. Your technique needs some work, but you've got enthusiasm. And superior numbers. We'll beat the training into you eventually.”

He pulled Egg to his feet. “Alright there?” Egg spat out a feather and nodded.

Lamb passed him a bucket of water and turned back to the pegasi. “Alright, you did pretty good for beginners, but don't get too cocky. Remember, if that had been a real fight, Egg would have killed the lot of you.”

“Sir! What's a real fight like, sir?” The question came from somewhere in the back ranks.

Lamb turned his best sergeant glare in the speaker's direction. “Someone wants the real thing, do they? Step up!”

The ranks parted as a silver pegasus stepped forward.

Lamb bared his teeth in a grin. “So, what's your name, soldier?”

“Silver Streak, sir!”

“So, Silver Streak, you want to see blood, do you?”

“The pegasus laid her ears back. “No sir! I just-”

“Real fighting means blood, soldier!” Lamb barked. “Sooner you realize that, the better. Or did you think you could dogpile the enemy into submission like you did with Egg?”

“No sir!”

Lamb rubbed his chin and I started to get a sinking feeling in my gut. “I have an idea of how we might grant your wish.” He pointed to two guards at random. “You and you, bring one of the prisoners down here. Make sure to bring all his gear too.”

As the guards took wing Lamb turned back towards me. “Marus, feel like a little swordplay?”

“Don't you think its a little too soon for that?”

“No time like the present. What, you worried you'll get hurt? I could always get Priest to come hold your hand if you'd like.”

“I think you're going to spook the troops.”

Lamb was suddenly very close. “What would you have me do?” he hissed. “Wait until Grayborn's boys are climbing the walls before finding out that ponies don't know what real fighting looks like? There's a battle coming. And most of the killing is going to be done by these ponies. You and I both know what it looks like when wizards go to war. These ponies don't. So unless you want them running as soon as Grayborn starts his song and dance, we've got to give them something to look up to. We've got to look like the kind of iron-plated, death-eating war machines that give Grayborn screaming nightmares. Yeah, they're going to be spooked when you dismember this poor bastard. But they're going to remember it. And maybe it'll make them fear the other side a little less.”

I sighed. “Well, it wouldn't be the first time I've put on a show for the locals.”

Lamb slapped me on the shoulder. “That's the spirit! Remember, if you croak, I get your boots.”

I groaned and began limbering up.

I stood in the middle of the parade ground. A ring of curious, apprehensive pegasi circled the arena. At the other end stood the prisoner and Lamb.

“Alright, listen up!” Lamb bellowed. “This fine fellow here is going to get his shot at freedom today!” He clapped the prisoner on the back. The man looked confused.

“All he has to do to walk free is kill that man there!” Lamb pointed at me. Suddenly the prisoner looked a lot less confused.

“Watch and learn!” Lamb dropped the man's sword in front of him and nodded at the guards. “Release him.”

The manacles clattered to the grass and the guards sprang into the air, out of arm's reach. The prisoner stood for a moment rubbing his wrists, then looked back at Lamb.

Lamb winked. “Watch out, he bites.”

The man hesitated for a moment, then scooped up his sword and charged at me.

The bards love to sing about swordsmen performing great deeds through strength of will or righteous anger. If their tales are to be believed, a youth armed with his slain father's blade and a heart full of wrath is the most dangerous swordsman that you could ever face.

This is, of course, thoroughly untrue. An angry or inexperienced swordsman will try to use relentless, violent attacks to overwhelm his opponent's defenses. He will then be cut apart by his more disciplined adversary, who kept his head in the heat of battle. The Black Company trained us to be killers, not bravos. We abjure the path of the Red Brotherhood, which trains its members in a flashy, aggressive fighting style to intimidate opponents. We are efficient killers, and efficiency holds a terror all its own.

“And that, Silver Streak, is what a real fight looks like!”

I wiped my sword on the corpse's shirt and watched the pegasus. She held up better than I expected. They all did. Of course, Lamb didn't make them drag the body outside and bury it. Bastard.

“How are our auxiliaries coming along?” Priest asked, bandaging the cut on my arm that was my sole memento of the fight.

“Ten dinar says we last a week.”

“No can do, Marus. Already got twenty riding on five days.”

“Shit. Marsuf, right? Pessimistic bastard.”

“What can I say? A squad of us and some ponies versus a wizard and his army? Not good odds any way you look at it.”

“The odds would be better if I could convince Cirrus to ask for help.” I grumbled. “That pegasus is more stubborn than Jackal on a winning streak.”

“We've still got time, right?”

I nodded. “A little. Scouts are watching the road, so we'll get a couple days warning. Hey, did you know that pegasi can sleep on clouds?”

“No shit? How the hell do they-”

“Hey, Marus!” Jacky Boy dashed up, grinning from ear to ear. “You guys gotta come take a look at this.”

'This' proved to be a trio of crude catapults sitting behind the outer wall. Under Jackal's direction, crews of enthusiastic if inexperienced ponies were lobbing rocks over the wall.

“What do you think?” Jackal was pleased with himself.

“Not bad.” I said, kicking the frame of the nearest one. “You two build these?”

“Only the first one. I have teams building more right now. We will cycle the teams so they can learn to both build and operate them.”

“How many do you think you'll have ready?”

Jackal shrugged. “More time, more catapults.”

One of the catapults ran out of rocks. I grinned as a watching pegasus jumped into the bucket and tripped the catch. The pegasus was launched out over the wall, spreading its wings and soaring away at the apex of the arc. The crew whooped and cheered.

Jackal stormed off to shout at them.

I stood in the gateway and watched Flick and Marsuf lope in out of the perpetual drizzle outside. Flick grinned and gave me a thumbs up. Marsuf was liberally spattered with blood. From the contented look on his face, I guessed that none of it was his. Killing gave Marsuf a certain look in his eye. I usually saw that look in the eyes of men who had just enjoyed a woman. I learned not to ask. At least we'd finally got him to stop taking trophies.

The raids were mostly intended to eat away at enemy morale. The plan was for squads of ponies to eventually join them in the field, time permitting. Small victories would do wonders for our allies' confidence.

A week ticked by, then another. Still no sign of Grayborn.

We continued our preparations. Under Lamb's tutelage, the pegasi began to resemble a fighting force. Squads of pegasi began joining Flick and Marsuf in raiding up and down Grayborn's line, although they limited themselves to dropping spears and stones from above. Getting into the spirit of things, Storm Front suggested an idea that was swiftly implemented by Lamb and Egg: the Stormriders. Teams of pegasi mounted on clouds would hammer a trench or bunker with lightning bolts produced by their clouds. The results were spectacular. A concentrated volley of lightning bolts could literally blow a bunker apart. Flick noted that they were becoming increasingly comfortable with aiming their lightning at the actual enemies as well.

Priest quickly found that his assigned post as quartermaster was mostly unnecessary. With so much cultivated land inside the wall, Windsoar was capable of surviving for years on its own produce, besides having the supplies stored in the citadel. Plus, there was the fact that most of its population could fly. Priest joined Jacky Boy and Jackal in supervising the construction of catapults and ballista for the defense of the outer wall, as well as stockpiling countless bolts, spears, javelins, darts, and stones for use by the machines and the pegasi. Sadly, Jacky Boy's plan for constructing two gigantic catapults on the mountain peak was vetoed as impractical. He consoled himself by chiseling derogatory remarks about Grayborn's parentage into catapult stones.

I spent most of my time in the citadel with Inkwell, poring over maps and records. If Windsoar could hold, we would need outside assistance to drive Grayborn back and destroy him. If Windsoar fell, we would need a new safe haven. The closest and most likely candidate for both was Trottingham, but the feud meant that such an alliance was extremely unlikely. Again and again I insisted we send word directly to the princesses, but Cirrus always overruled me. Even with Inkwell backing me, the pegasus noble refused to consider that we might need help. I shifted my focus to Stratus. Perhaps Cirrus would agree if his mate was on my side.

“Marus.”

I grunted and opened my eyes. I had fallen asleep in the archives again.

Lamb stood over me. “Marus, get up. Grayborn's coming.”

“Scout just flew in.” Lamb said as we strode out of the citadel. “Grayborn's whole army's coming hell-for-leather up the road.”

“About time.” I said, forcing a laugh. “I was getting sick of waiting.”

The sky was clear, even over Grayborn's trenches.

“I've got the ponies working on something a little more effective than drizzle.” Lamb said when I asked him about the change in weather.

Cirrus and Storm Front swooped out of the sky to join us partway down the mountain. They seemed more nervous than fearful. I suppose that was a good thing. Still, no way to tell how they'd jump until the fighting started.

We spent the next few days putting the finishing touches on our preparations. Unless the Company decided to swoop down out of the blue, we'd be fighting for our lives within the week. Cirrus still refused to budge on calling for aid. Fifteen years with the Company and I was going to get killed because a flying pony got his tail in a knot over looking weak in front of his rivals. Unbelievable.

I was marginally cheered up by a visit from Crystal and Cinder. Cinder and several other Windsoar blacksmiths had put their heads together and banged out some armor for our squad. It was surprisingly high quality stuff. Flick proofed the breastplates with his crossbow and didn't so much as dent them. At least I'd die in one piece.

“Do you think we're ready for this?” Crystal asked.

I had the armor strapped on and was moving around, getting a feel for it. She was helping by whacking me with a stick. I didn't remember asking her to do that.

“No one's ever completely ready for a fight.” I said. “You just try to be as ready as you can be when the fight finds you.”

“So, is that a yes?” she asked playfully, thumping me in the ribs.

I grabbed the stick and hung on. “I think we're as ready as we'll ever be. We'll hurt Grayborn bad, although I wish you and the rest of the civilians would evacuate in case the worst should happen.”

The glow around the stick faded. “I convinced Jackal to let me fight.” she said soberly. “I'll be helping to keep the barrier up over the catapults.”

“Are you sure? What about your kid? Don't you think you should-”

“Moonbright will be safe in the citadel.” she interrupted. “And yes, I'm sure. I asked for this. I wanted this.” She stamped her hoof. “Celestia's sake, Marus, you weren't there when he attacked Canterberry! I want to help stop him! I need to help stop him!”

I took a knee beside her. She looked up at me. Her eyes blazed, but there were tears in the corners.

“Sorry.” I said. “I didn't mean it like that. I know you're not useless.”

“I lost my mate when they took Canterberry.” she said softly. “He tried to fight them off and they shot him.”

I laid a hand gently on her shoulder. “I'm sorry. He sounded like a brave pony.”

“Caramel Foam. His name was Caramel Foam. He was the best mate any mare could ask for. The best father.”

“I would have liked to meet him.” I said quietly.

“I was just so helpless.” She broke down and cried. I held her.

“We'll...we'll beat them, won't we?” she finally sniffled, looking up at me.

“Sure as the sun rose this morning.”

She wiped away the last of her tears. “I wish I had your confidence.”

“You will. And when the time comes, we'll make them bleed.”

“Yes.” she said. “Yes we will.”

Grayborn never slowed down. He drove his army up the road in record time, heedless of the pegasi that swooped down to drop rocks into the marching columns.

His army reached the edge of the forest late one afternoon and unfurled into a massive camp. I counted campfires as the sun went down and found myself revising our odds of survival downward. I had put on a brave face for Crystal, but I still had doubts. Oh, I knew with absolute certainty that Grayborn would be destroyed. I just wasn't sure if we, here and now, would be the ones to do it. Tomorrow would be a bloody day.

What might be our last day in Equestria came. The sky was, appropriately enough, leaden and dismal. No sun shone through the heavy gray clouds. The northern horizon was dark and the wind had a chill bite.

Heh. What my predecessors must think of me now. What is probably my last entry in the Annals and I spend it writing about the weather. Of such little details are our lives constructed.

One of the guards just flew in. Grayborn is breaking camp. His entire army is on the move.

I have left instructions with one of the guards here, made her swear to safeguard this book. When my brothers come here to end Grayborn, they will know all that has transpired. They will know that I have done my duty.

My name is Marus. I am the Annalist of the Black Company. Soldiers die, but the Company lives.