The Siege Of Canterlot

"General! General! Ma'am!"

Hawkeye looked up from her papers at the sudden intrusion into her office. Sequestered within the royal palace in Canterlot, she had been busying herself with the details of the city and its defences, just in case.

"Yes? What is it, Lieutenant?"

"Ma'am...we have an urgent message from Fort Corona. Their messenger just arrived."

"Fort Corona?" Hawkeye frowned. The Corona Line was to the south. She started to feel an uneasy sensation in her stomach at the news. "What's the message?"

"Begging your pardon ma'am, the messenger says she was given orders to speak only to you," the Lieutenant replied, sweat on his brow as he had obviously had to run to fetch her.

"Then take me to her," Hawkeye replied, rising from her desk and following the young officer. News of such apparent urgency was scarcely good, unless one was awaiting the birth of a child. What concerned her more, potentially, was that the news was from the Corona Line and not from Trottingham or one of the border posts.

"Ma'am..." A breathless red Pegasus saluted, looking thoroughly worn out from her flight. "I bring a message for you from Fort Corona..."

"Get her some water, for Celestia's sake," Hawkeye ordered, sending the Lieutenant scurrying away. "What news, Corporal?" she demanded from the new arrival, who was resting upon the open platform reserved for messengers who were relaying missives to the Princess or to military or government officials.

"Ma'am...I am to report to you personally that Fort Corona received a messenger from Trottingham with word that the southern border has been breached by a combined force of Changelings and Shadow Army forces, the city has been lost, and the enemy is on the march north."

"What...?" Hawkeye breathed. The uneasy feeling in her stomach had turned into a block of ice in her chest. "You are certain of this?"

"Yes ma'am..." the messenger nodded, accepting the water flask brought by the Lieutenant and greedily gulping down great swigs of it, a reward for her exertions. "Before I departed, we also received messengers from the two other forts of the Corona Line. They reported that messengers from Trottingham had also relayed the same message. I have here a letter signed by the fort commander for you also, ma'am." She handed it over, a sealed envelope fastened with red wax. Hawkeye took it, broke the seal, and withdrew the letter, scanning it rapidly.

General Hawkeye,

It is my solemn duty to pen this note to you. We have received several credible reports from messenger Pegasi that yesterday, the southern border was breached and the city of Trottingham razed. A force consisting of large elements of the Shadow Army and the Changeling Army has been reported crossing the frontier and advancing to the north. I am preparing the Corona Line for resistance, but I do not have enough troops at my disposal to mount a counterattack, nor to put a force in the field to combat them directly. I can hold the forts, but I cannot control the country. Therefore I am requesting reinforcements to be summoned to defend the Henbane River crossings to my north. That is more important than relieving us, for if the enemy cross the river, they will have a direct marching route to Canterlot. Should the enemy decide to besiege my forts instead of advancing further, I shall send further messages to inform you of the changing situation and ask for reinforcements to relieve us. If, however, the enemy bypasses the Corona Line with another objective in mind, then you must send all available troops to hold the river line. A preliminary report, and I stress the word preliminary, puts the size of the enemy force at approximately 100,000 (one hundred thousand). This was an estimate from the commander of the Trottingham garrison, Colonel Graves, relayed to us both by Pegasi messenger and by a small group of survivors led by a Captain Oats, who arrived by road at Fort Corona a short while ago.

I will send another messenger as soon as we make confirmed contact with the enemy. Until then, I must urge you to take every possible precaution to prepare Canterlot for a potential siege. If the Colonel's estimation is correct, then I have a very great fear that we shall not be able to stop the advance of the enemy, either here or at the Henbane River. They have caught us by surprise. The Holy Army has already marched east. They have us caught in a pincer. General, I urge you to contact Her Highness as soon as possible. My humble advice would be that she withdraw the Holy Army west of Saint Swiftmane's Pass and block it with explosives so as to deny the Changelings passage, then ride swiftly to counter this southern front. That would be much less costly in terms of time compared to awaiting reinforcements from Stalliongrad, and might prevent the capital from being besieged.

I would also urge you to keep this letter hidden from His Excellency, Court Mage Starswirl. With all due respect, he is half-senile and his understanding of military tactics is rooted in antiquity at best. These are military decisions and they should be made by military staff, if they cannot be made by the Princess herself. Do what you think best, my old friend, and do not trouble yourself with thoughts of me. If the Princess wills it, I shall survive, and I shall see you again someday soon.

Ever yours,

General Summerstrike

Commandant, Corona Line Garrison

Hawkeye re-read the message and then crumpled it up in her hand. "Thank you, Corporal. Lieutenant, take her to get something to eat and then find her somewhere to rest."

"Yes ma'am." The Lieutenant ushered the exhausted messenger away, leaving Hawkeye to stand on the landing platform, looking out across the rooftops of Canterlot. The city, burnished gold and marble. The city, jewel of the nation. The city, home of the Princess and all she stood for. It had not been threatened directly by violence for generations. She could hear the cries of the foals, the rumbling of merchants' carts over cobbled streets, the laughter of lovers, the bawdy music of street performers, the shouts of barrowponies and stallholders at the markets calling for customers. She could smell the perfumes of the palace and the royal quarter, the baking bread, the fish from the market, the stench of shit from the sewers, the faint whiff of gunpowder from the drill yards of the garrison, the scent of the lemon trees in the grove outside the palace walls.

It was not just Celestia's city, but it was her city, too. Born and raised in the capital, Hawkeye still considered herself a pony of Canterlot, despite her sobriquet being inextricably tied to her leadership at Trottingham. Summerstrike was from Canterlot, too; many, many years ago, she had shared her soul with him not too far from where she now stood; down among the lemon trees. Summerstrike, then a handsome young fire-orange earth stallion of some twenty summers and a newly commissioned Lieutenant of the Army, had confessed his love to his fellow cadet, and Hawkeye had said the same in return. They had shared a wonderful few weeks together, making love at every opportunity, walking along the bright promenades of Canterlot, stepping out together like young lovers should, until the army found out.

Relationships between officers were heavily frowned upon. Those between officers and cadets- even an officer who had just barely been commissioned a few weeks earlier, and a cadet who would undergo the same ceremony the coming winter- were outright forbidden. Whether somepony ratted them out or whether an officer happened to espy them together, Hawkeye and Summerstrike never did discover, but they were summoned before their respective commanding officers and ordered to either end their affair or leave the military with a dishonorable discharge. Both of them had aspirations, dreams even, to be soldiers. They had spent a night together, one final, lonely night, despite spending it in each other's arms. Together, they both revealed they had come independently to the same conclusion; they both wanted to continue their careers, even at the expense of their romance. Thus had it ended, with one final embrace and one final bucking in the lemon groves.

Their careers had long since separated them and taken them on different paths, but their dreams of success had both come true, even if it had torn them apart in the process. Both had become Generals, the highest rank one could achieve save for the temporary brevet rank of Field Marshal, conferable only by Celestia herself and restricted to the commanders of great campaigns which the Princess did not lead in person. It could be argued that Hawkeye had outperformed her old lover, becoming the commander of the Central Province rather than just a fortress-line, but Summerstrike was a former commander of the Western Province, which had its capital at Stalliongrad, and had chosen the transfer upon the construction of the Corona Line. Soon, it was likely to be put to the test in one way or another- and if it failed, or if the Holy Army failed, or if the defences at the Henbane River failed, so was Canterlot.

Hawkeye returned to her office, using a candle that was flickering away to burn the letter as Summerstrike had suggested. She then marched down the hall to find Starswirl. The court mage had to know, for he had been left in command by Celestia, and regardless of what Hawkeye or Summerstrike felt about him, they respected the judgement of the Princess above all else. She knocked upon the door to his office-laboratory and entered.

"Your Excellency? I bring bad news."

The Holy Army had marched at dawn, to the cheers of the Hornburg garrison. Feet and hooves pounded on the road to the east. Saltsburg lay far beyond the horizon, and they had marched all day and rested for another night on the plains. The following morning, scouts had rushed back with urgent news. They had sighted the banners of the Changeling Army.

Celestia had acted swiftly. Battle would soon be joined. With luck they could take the Changelings by surprise, but most likely the enemy had already seen them and were preparing themselves. A few miles ahead of them lay a line of low hills. Celestia ordered the army to move and occupy them, and they had. The Changelings could be seen to the east, a dark mass on the plains. The Equestrian artillery was moved into position upon the hills, field guns drawn up and unlimbered, powder and shot prepared and distributed to the infantry. With their flags and banners fluttering in the breeze, the Holy Army positioned themselves for war, regiments moving together, blocks of ponies, two dozen ranks deep, cavalry to their flanks, ready to face down the foe. Sixty thousand Equestrians, their Princess at their head, against an unknown number of Changelings, to decide the fate of the Eastern Province.

As the sun rose higher in the sky and the two armies squared off, a large, grey cloud drifted lazily across the heavens, passing in front of the sun and casting a great shadow across the land. Those who were truly devout paid it no heed, but for many, it was a worrying portent. A symbol, a message from fate itself? Or a mere coincidence?

"Ponies!" Celestia cried, bellowing out her words in the Royal Canterlot Voice, the traditional method of addressing large crowds. "We fight this day for Equestria! We fight this day for family, for faith, for country! We fight to crush tyranny, to free our lands from oppression and cruelty! We fight to cast back the shadow, to hurl the darkness from our borders, and to let our fellow citizens bathe in the light! You fight for me, and I fight for you, and together, we shall be victorious!" From atop her horse, she drew her sword and raised it high above her head. A great roar rose from the throats of the army, sixty thousand strong.

"Praise the Sun!"

"Praise the Sun!"

"Praise the Sun!"

Celestia pointed her sword at the Changelings before lowering it to her side. As one, the Holy Army began to advance.