The Siege Of Canterlot

The previous day, the fourth of the siege, had been quiet. Disturbingly so, for there had been no attack on Canterlot at all. That at least brought a reprieve for the ponies manning the palisade and the city walls, allowing the defenders to rotate their soldiers and let them rest properly inside the city, barracking in requisitioned housing stock or public buildings cleared to allow bedrolls to be laid down. The only thing that disturbed the air was the usual morning bombardment and counter-bombardment as the Shadow Army tried to pound the Bastions and the curtain wall into submission, and then the relentless sound of digging.

From the top of the palace towers, the source of the digging could be ascertained. There had been a certain amount of it the day before, and the day before that, but yesterday it had been almost continuous, and the current morning had dawned with the same sounds coming from the enemy lines. They were digging trenches, a network of them, cut into the earth of the plateau in front of their camp; saps jutting outward, communication trenches connecting rear areas, and revetments for cannons, all steadily pushing forward, moving from their own lines toward the city walls. Having failed to take the palisade by storm, the Shadow Army was clearly settling in for a long siege, preparing their own lines and enhancing them in a similar way to how the defenders had prepared. The Shadow Army's trenches, however, were not a defensive construct, but were designed to allow their own soldiers to get closer to the defences before having to expose themselves to Equestrian fire; the closer they could get, the less open ground they would have to cover, and the less time they would be in the sights of the enemy guns. The works also provided protection for sharpshooters; the Shadow Army possessed many excellent marksponies, and constructing trenches and saps could allow them to take up favourable positions ahead of an assault. The earthen revetments for cannons that were also being constructed would protect the heavy guns and allow the enemy to put their entire artillery complement into action, including the smaller guns which so far were positioned out of range of the city walls and needed to get closer in order to engage.

The kind of works that were ongoing were indicative of a long siege being planned. The enemy clearly had enough troops for a prolonged investiture of Canterlot, and enough ammunition and equipment. Their supply line now stretched uninterrupted back to the Shadowlands, though the forts of the Corona Line could threaten it if the forces that had been assigned to besiege them were lax in their duties. General Summerstrike had some cavalry at his disposal, who could potentially conduct lightning raids upon hostile convoys, but apart from that, the convoys of powder, shot, and food would have practically free reign to run between Canterlot and the southern border, keeping the invasion force well supplied for the continuing siege. They were not likely to run out of any vital supplies any time soon.

General Hawkeye looked out across the city, hands clasped behind her back. The view was excellent from the palace. it had been built upon the highest point of the plateau's northern reaches, and the rest of the city, essentially, constructed around it, or rather in front of it, for the palace backed onto the vertical edge of the northern escarpment that dropped away to the valley floor. It was a marvelous edifice, fit for a Princess, with walls of white, clean stone, soaring towers of marble and gold, and stained glass windows depicting Celestia's past glories. Victories over the Zebras, Yaks, Griffons, rebels, Moon Cultists and indeed even Changelings were engraved upon the walls and windows of the palace, for all visitors to see. Celestia herself had not ordered their installation, or commissioned most of the paintings and tapestries that dotted the building showing the same things. Most had been paid for by the priests of the Sun, nobles, or the personal coffers of her minister of state.

She was not boastful, though she had much to boast about, but those who followed her were devout and pious. They erected statues and commissioned paintings of her deeds and likeness not because of her vainglory, but to further spread the word of the Sun to all and sundry, from the highest noble to the lowliest commoner and, importantly, to visitors and dignitaries from other lands. All Equestrian citizens knew the story of their Princess, but travelers from distant lands might not. That was why every alehouse in the land had a portrait of Celestia above the bar, every private house had at least one stencil, drawing or painting of her likeness, and why every government, military and religious building was required by law to fly the Equestrian flag and have at least one, usually many, depictions of the Princess.

The city was much the same as the palace; at least, the Old Town. big, sweeping colonnaded streets, marble government buildings, fountains and handsome trees, villas for nobility, a guard post on every corner. The New Town was a mixture- parts were similar in design, but the farther one got from the palace, the more ramshackle the city became. The New Town was similar to any other large settlement in the land; wooden houses, thatched rooftops, cobbled streets, open sewers, market stalls, mud, muck. Canterlot was the largest and richest city in Equestria, but those riches were certainly not distributed equally among its inhabitants.

"Good morning, General."

Starswirl entered her office behind her, unbidden and without knocking, though she had been expecting the mage's presence.

"Your Excellency," she greeted him without turning, still looking out across the city at the enemy lines, where the trenches were beginning to branch out like a spider's web, the brown cuts in the grassland of the plateau clearly visible. It had not taken them long to produce results with their digging; the Changelings were experts at such craft thanks to their construction of underground cities. "They are making steady progress out there," she commented. "I would estimate another two days before they are in range to both bring all of their artillery into play, and also to launch a surprise attack on the palisade that would give us little time to react."

Starswirl moved to stand beside her. "Indeed? Two days is an eternity in war, General. Things can change in the blink of an eye if the conditions are right."

"They can," Hawkeye nodded, sparing Starswirl a glance. "If you are planning something, tell me now."

"I am planning nothing save continuing to work on raising the city shield once more," Starswirl replied. "That is my sole endeavour at this time."

"Then forgive me, Your Excellency, but if your focus is entirely upon that task, it would behoove you to confer upon another the powers that Her Highness invested in you," Hawkeye pointed out. "The execution of the duties of state can hardly be carried out when one is so dedicated to a specific task."

"General, I am quite capable of performing both functions at the same time," Starswirl chided. "I understand that you chafe against my authority over you, but I have delegated the military defence of the city to you already. More than that, I cannot do. The Princess gave me the decree that I was to rule in her stead until she returns, and I shall not let her down in that regard."

"I know you do not wish to let Her Highness down, Your Excellency," Hawkeye replied. "But if, in your pursuit of magical protection, you neglect the city and the populace that you serve..."

"I have neglected nopony," Starswirl snapped, an uncharacteristically sharp tongue greeting her accusation. "I do my duty, and you do yours, General."

"Then make me responsible for the city as a whole," Hawkeye demanded, rounding on Starswirl. "Not just for its military defence. Waste is piling up in the streets. Medical facilities are not staffed to their full levels. Many ponies are defying the curfew I have put in place on the grounds that they are not military personnel and thus it must not apply to them. We have thousands of refugees within our walls, and I am receiving multiple reports that many of them have not only not been housed yet, but have scarcely been fed since the siege began. I would ask, nay, demand to know, on their behalf, why that is."

"A trifling matter..." Starswirl responded. "They will be well cared for."

"By who? The enemy, if they take this city?" Hawkeye questioned. "The enemy will do one of two things; slaughter them, or enslave them. We have a much better chance of holding the city if morale is not damaged by such disreputable acts as allowing our own citizens to go hungry because of some administrative power struggle."

"Then resist the urge to confront me, General!" Starswirl banged his staff upon the solid stone floor of her office. "You serve the ponies of this city best by accepting the judgement of the Princess."

"I have never claimed to oppose the judgement of the Princess," Hawkeye snarled. "Merely that of the pony she chose to make her regent. Her temporary regent."

"Do you believe that I am planning to retain those powers upon her return?" Starswirl narrowed his eyes. "You are accusing me of both blasphemy and treason."

"Not of blasphemy or treason, Your Excellency. Merely of becoming blinded to reality," she replied. "You are neglecting your duties as regent, and it is to the detriment not just of individual ponies, but to the city and nation as a whole. I would strongly urge you to consider what I have said. Somepony must take charge of issues other than holding the walls or resurrecting the shield. The needs of our citizens must be met."

"The city administration will take care of those things. Civil servants..." Starswirl protested.

"Only if they receive instructions from somepony who claims to be in charge!" Hawkeye retorted. "You have a duty not just to the residents of this city, Your Excellency, but to everything beyond these walls as well. if a letter with your seal on it arrives somewhere, then the orders contained within will be acted upon, unless an order bearing the great seal of the Princess herself is also received. You rule in her stead while she is on campaign. That does not mean you have to concern yourself with every little minutiae of business here within Canterlot. Let me help. Let my quartermaster deal with the rations. Leave the city bureaucracy to do whatever bureaucracies do...file things, mostly. Leave them to file, and allow yourself to focus on life beyond the walls, but for Celestia's sake, I must have a functioning city one way or another if I am to defend it properly. The last thing we need is disease, famine, mutiny..."

"Your point is made, General," Starswirl conceded with a sigh. "Very well. As regent, I declare Canterlot to be under martial law from this moment on. All administrative duties are to be routed through military channels. As garrison commander, I hereby appoint you, General Hawkeye, to be temporary Magistrate of Canterlot. All domestic matters within the walls are to be handled by you, your staff, or your subordinates, unless they directly affect either the rest of Equestria, or my efforts to defend the city."

"Thank you, Your Excellency..." Hawkeye breathed a deep sigh. She had not quite intended the discussion to get so heated, but Starswirl could be infuriating with his pithy quips and refusal to accept the facts placed before him. He was overworked, devoting all of his energies, so far ineffectually, to raising the shield again. Now that he had devolved his powers over the city to her, Hawkeye knew that her military command structure could perform a much better job, working in conjunction with the civil service rather than ignoring it to prowl the palace library at night searching for one more ancient tome, as she knew Starswirl had been doing. Whatever he might have tried so far, nothing had helped.

"I trust you will not let your Princess down," Starswirl added.

"I will make sure everypony is fed and sheltered, Your Excellency. That is all I can promise with a cast-iron guarantee," Hawkeye replied. "But know that every soldier and militiapony will fight tooth and nail to defend this city, and they fight in Her name, and beneath Her Sun."

"Not all the time..." Starswirl answered, moving to stand upon the balcony, leaning on the railings. "It should be starting at any moment. A bad portent, I fear."

"Nonsense, Your Excellency," Hawkeye shook her head. "Surely you of all ponies must have moved beyond such...primitive superstitions."

"It is no superstition to understand the cause of such things, yet still feel the coincidence to be too great to be mere happenstance," Starswirl replied, as Hawkeye stood next to him, hands clasped behind her back, looking skyward.

As they watched, the first hints of a change began to unfold high above. Celestia's sun, blazing brightly, appeared a little dimmer than it had a minute earlier, then a little dimmer still. A shadow crept across its surface, and across the land below. Cries of dismay could be heard from the city as anguished civilians looked up in confusion and fear. At the same time, there were roars and triumphant trumpets from the enemy camp beyond the walls as the sky grew darker and darker. Within minutes, day had turned to night, a blanket of shade and darkness.

Before Celestia's time, the ancient tribes would have panicked, perhaps fled, whenever an eclipse happened. The histories told that the Yaks would fire arrows at the sun to try and piece the veil; the Zebras believed that a giant crocodile had snapped up the sun in its mighty jaws but found it too hot to swallow. Many nations, even today, still held superstitions surrounding such events, though notably only those who did not follow the creed of the Sun and the footsteps of the Princess. Even those such as Starswirl who fully understood the cosmological cause of a total solar eclipse could still find ill omens in its timing.

The late morning's night only lasted for five minutes, but that was long enough to cause fear. With the Sun hidden, save for a thin sliver of shimmering light from the star's corona, disquiet spread rapidly among the civilians and militia, though the soldiers and Royal Guard were more steadfast. Even to those stalwart ponies, however, it could scarcely have been more symbolic. As the Sun disappeared beneath a disc of darkness, the Shadow Army and the Changelings knew that the fates were with them; the heavens themselves were rebelling against Celestia's rule.