The Siege Of Canterlot

The guns of the Shadow Army roared into life again, and this time they had a target they could actually hit. Up on the city wall, ponies ducked as the heavy iron balls whizzed overhead, some smashing into the stonework of the towering structures. Beyond the wall, the picket line assigned to the outer earthworks took up their positions, muskets in hand, their swords and spirits ready.

The Equestrian guns stood by, waiting for the inevitable advance to begin. Whether this would be a hopeful probe or a full-scale assault remained to be seen, but evidence leaned toward the latter. The enemy force had drawn up in their regiments, parading with banners, flags and drums, tantalizingly out of cannon range, but in full view, letting the defenders know they were getting ready. The incoming bombardment focused on the walls of the city, several shots striking home and shattering the parapet wall, stone splinters cutting down unfortunate soldiers. Others sailed overhead, missing their target and passing on their ballistic trajectory into the city beyond, where they crashed through rooftops far removed from the outer wall. There were no civilian casualties, as all non-combatants had been removed into the Old Town the day before, as soon as the enemy had arrived. The New Town was empty save for soldiers and Guardsponies, who were billeted in numerous buildings in anticipation of being needed to reinforce the outer works or the city wall itself. With the wall theoretically cowed by the firepower, the Shadow Army's guns turned their attention to the outer palisade, heavy cannonballs blowing holes in the line, shattering the wooden stakes and the defenders behind them in equal measure. They could only open up small gaps, however.

Ferdinand Firetail's improvements had, for the most part, been completed in time, but there were parts of the defensive line that were stronger than others. Those that lacked somewhat in physical obstructions had been reinforced with larger contingents of soldiers, clad in the red-with-gold-trim of the army, supported by Royal Guard in their golden armour, and the militia in their multifarious uniforms. It was a proud sight, or would have been had any civilians been around to watch. Their fighting ponies, standing up for truth, for honour, for pride, for the innocent and weak, for the Princess.

The outer palisade was lined with musketponies, interspersed with a few pikes and backed up with sections of infantry armed with pistols and swords in case of a breakthrough. The individual spikes of the paliade wall were spaced just wide enough for a single pony to push through side-on; thus two muskets could easily be fired through each gap, or a single long pike wielded to deter any attackers. The guns of the city wall were ready, as were those atop each bastion.

The Equestrian troops were well rested and well fed. Though their morale had been shaken by the collapse of the city shield, Canterlot was still inviolate, the gates sealed, the walls unbreached. This was their first test, the enemy's first attack. They were ready to meet the challenge, and the Shadow Army was ready to provide it. With a bugle call and a steady drumbeat, they began to advance, row upon row of dark-clad figures, muskets in hand, cavalry ranging ahead on the flanks to probe for any weak spots they could exploit. Thanks to Ferdinand Firetail's direction and the hard work of the entrenching parties, they found none, but marksponies up on the wall with their heavier muskets took their toll, inflicting several casualties on the riders as they crossed the open ground between Newgrange and the city defences.

The main bulk of the enemy force that was being committed to this opening gambit continued to press forward, with their main axis of attack angling toward the Unicorn Gate. Cannons roared from the Timberwolf and Phoenix Bastions, as well as their protective ravelins in front. No cannon had been positioned at the front of the palisade line, though several had been well concealed by timber breastworks and netting to cover them from enemy Pegasus or Changeling spotters, who had floated ominously in the sky all of the previous evening, and were up again before dawn, doing their best to map out the network of trenches, half-hidden revetments and blockhouses, and looking for clear routes through the earthworks, killing fields and sharpened stakes designed to ward off cavalry or catch unsuspecting infantry unawares.

Firetail had been clever with his designs; for every obvious gun position, entrenchment or wooden bunker, there was another that was not so easy to spot that would either provide cover to the first, or form a different focal point for resistance. Wherever possible, positions had been dug or erected to be able to provide supporting fire to each other, which was why the palisade fence was not a straight line; rather it followed a zig-zag pattern, in a similar way to how the Bastions provided the same kind of shape as adjuncts to the main line of the city wall. That meant different sections of the line could provide mutually supporting fire if one of their neighbours were in danger of being overrun.

As the enemy closed in, the unicorns within their ranks began to erect magic shields in front of their squads. Such magic was enough to stop musket fire and arrows, but a cannonball had enough mass to simply smash straight through. In addition, their protective wall could only cover their unit from certain angles, usually directly ahead; though rudimentary magic shield, unlike Starswirl's complex dome, could be re positioned with a simple turn of the head and horn, directed against incoming fire. This was particularly useful against volley fire, when a line of enemy infantry unloaded their muskets at the same time. In fact, that was something that the Shadow Army was particularly noteworthy for; countering, or ignoring, volley fire.

For decades, it had been the normal practice for a company or regiment of infantry to form line and engage with volleys, and against most foes, that worked just fine, with each side trading volleys as they slowly closed with each other. The Shadow Army, however, and the Changelings to a lesser extent, undermined that standard philosophy. They did not usually engage in such a by-the-numbers approach; rather, they lined up, fired a single volley, supported by their cannons where possible, and then charged. An unprepared enemy would thus be caught in the act of reloading by the sudden rush. They might get in two, maybe three volleys, which would be partially deflected by the unicorn's shields as the advanced halted for a brief moment, as many soldiers as possible huddling together in line behind the shields at the moment when the volley was imminent, and then the enemy would be upon them, going in with the bayonet, sword, pistol and dagger.

For this reason, General Hawkeye had ordered that all units were to fire at will, rather than in the volley. That meant that each soldier would be firing and reloading at his or her own pace, meaning there was always some outgoing fire for the enemy to dodge, always a constant threat of taking casualties in the advance. The enemy could not simply huddle together behind the shields as they would never move forward, but simply charging without any caution would invite heavy casualties. It gave the enemy a dilemma, and every little thing they had to think about just made their advance that little bit tougher, both mentally and physically.

The ponies at the palisade steeled themselves as the enemy came at them, a wall of black, marching in lockstep with each other. A fearsome sight; lesser armies had been known to break and run when confronted with the mere spectacle, even before battle was joined; that was how the Shadowlands had been unified in the past. Smaller tribes and city-states found their forces panicking and fleeing as often as standing and fighting. A similar tale could be told of the unification of Equestria under the Princess. After all, the best battle was one you didn't need to fight at all. This battle, however, very much needed to be fought to a conclusion.

As the Shadow Army marched into range, the musketeers at the palisade wall lined up, taking aim. At a signal from their officers, they began to fire, each pony squeezing the trigger when they had a bead on a target. Shots began to ring out, and ponies of the Shadow Army began to fall, their bodies pierced by musket balls. The advancing line halted, raised their muskets, took aim, and let loose with a volley, shots smashing into the palisade wall and sending splinters of wood flying. Then, they started to charge, with a guttural roar and the pounding of thousands of feet upon the bare earth.

Shots rang out across the field of battle. Just behind the first line of musketponies at the palisade, a line of militia helpers took their empty weapons and performed the complex procedure of reloading them, while other helpers passed forward newly loaded muskets for the soldiers to take, enabling them to keep up a constant stream of fire at the charging enemy. Their magic shields could only do so much in protecting their soldiers, and more of them hit the ground, trampled underfoot by their fellows who were caught up in the adrenaline of battle.

They closed in rapidly, running over the open ground. Cannonballs from the Bastions cut through their ranks, spraying blood and guts over their fellow soldiers as they continued to pound over the dirt, nearing the palisade. The muskets could only fire so fast, and there were plenty of ponies eager to take the place of the fallen in the line as they closed the gap with the defensive line.

A slight slope rose from the ground where the Equestrians had prepared the earthen rampart that supported the palisade. A ten-foot tall mound of dirt topped with wooden stakes and musketeers, it was an understated but formidable defensive structure protecting the approaches to the city walls. It would definitely not be easy for the Shadow Army or the Changelings to take the first line, but they would certainly try their best. The advancing companies reached the slope and began to ascend toward the palisade, shrouded in white-grey smoke from the constant musket fire coming from behind the wooden stakes. More soldiers went down, wounded or dead, shot through by musket balls. The defenders were able to keep up a constant barrage of gunfire thanks to the rows of militia helpers reloading the muskets and passing them forward to those on the line. If the palisade was breached, they would take up their own swords or muskets and join in the defence, but the hope was that their pony-chain of reloaded weapons could keep the enemy at bay. When the soldiers on the line tired, they would be replaced by those who were fresher from the reserve. Once they tired, they could swap back with the first group who had regained their strength.

The Shadow Army pressed home the attack, their soldiers making it to the palisade wall. Some stuck muskets through the gaps between the stakes and fired. Equestrians went down screaming, the wounded crawling back toward the rear in desperation. Unicorn healers from the army, Royal Guard, militia and civilians who had volunteered their services were waiting in the ditch, where they were protected from direct enemy gunfire. Normal magic could not bring the dead back to life or regrow severed limbs, but it could save a wounded pony. Musket balls could be removed, wounds patched. Actual medicine in Equestria was surprisingly advanced compared to some of their neighbours. Surgery was performed on a fairly routine basis at infirmaries and hospitals across the nation, using ether as an anesthetic and able to seal arteries, remove diseased organs, effectively and safely amputate limbs, and various other treatments. Opioid drugs were common for various maladies, and plenty of natural and effective remedies made from countless plants and herbs could be prescribed by apothecaries for common illnesses and complaints. Together, magic and medicine could heal many wounds and save many lives, but not all of them.

While the wounded crawled or were dragged out of the line, the defenders at the palisade continued to fight, jabbing their pikes out through the gaps, impaling Shadow soldiers upon them, stabbing with bayonets, firing musket at point blank range into the faces of the enemy. Their cannons, behind them on the Bastions, roared with regularity, carving through the rear ranks of the Shadow Army's advance. After twenty minutes, the invaders in some spots were having trouble advancing to the palisade thanks to their own dead piling up in front of it. A loud trumpet call sounded from the enemy camp, and as one, the survivors turned and began an ordered, steady retreat, supported by their own cannons which opened fired with a thunderous voice, pummeling the walltop and the palisade in equal measure. Some shots tore through their own wounded, killing them outright; evidence, if the defenders needed any, that the Shadow Army evidently cared nothing even for its own soldiers, raising the spectre of how they might treat prisoners or subjugated civilians if the city were to be taken.

The retreating enemy raised a cheer from the defenders. The first assault had been beaten back with minimal casualties among their own ranks. They now knew that the line could hold, at least against a single attack. They also knew the enemy would be back, again and again, as many times as it took. The siege of Canterlot had only just begun.