The Siege Of Canterlot

The Holy Army's tents had sprung up once more around the Hornburg fortress. They had returned two days earlier from their sojourn with heads hanging low, dismal expressions upon their tired, dusty faces. The explosion that had rent the pass and collapsed it upon the Changelings had been audible as a low rumbling roar from the fort, and General Spectre had closed his eyes upon hearing it. It could not have been anything else but a sign of failure.

Returning to the Hornburg, Celestia had filled the General in on the outcome. The pass was lost, blocked. It would take months of heavy labour with magic, cranes and backbreaking physical effort to clear it out again. As a small consolation, once the infantry and the rest of the cavalry had arrived, the Princess had led the Holy Army against the disarrayed Changelings, trapping them in the bowl ahead of the pass, with their backs to the wall of rubble and the bodies of the dead. Turning the cannons that the Cloudsdale Hussars had captured on their erstwhile owners and pouring musket fire into them, the Holy Army had fought a bitter fight, wiping out thousands of the enemy. A large portion of the Changeling force, however, had been able to escape- drones and officers only, those with wings, taking to the air and departing as one mass, sudden, abrupt retreat to the south, over the heads of the Equestrians, leaving their hapless worker-Changeling fellows to face the wrath of the Princess and her followers. They fought and died there at the foot of the mountains, with the Equestrians closing the ring until none were left alive. Scouts estimated approximately fifteen thousand of the forty thousand strong Changeling force had fled, but the rest, at least, had been wiped out.

Celestia had considered a pursuit, but by the time they managed to form their Pegasi up into dedicated units, the enemy would be miles away, and cavalry could not be expected to follow them over the rough terrain of the foothills. Most likely they were heading for the Coltstone Pass or back to Saltsburg. Their mission had been accomplished; the Holy Army had been denied their easiest, fastest passage back to Canterlot. Celestia ordered the march back to the Hornburg; the morning before they arrived, the eclipse had darkened the skies and their spirits in equal measure.

Over tea in the fort's main war room, Celestia discussed with Generals Ostmane and Spectre as to the next move to be made. No word had been received at all from the troops stationed at the Coltstone Pass- neither the Hornburg nor Canterlot had any news, meaning it must most likely have been overrun early in the war and captured, perhaps from both ends at once in a double-pronged surprise attack. The pass was lined with explosive charges, just as Saint Swiftmane's had been; if the Changelings and Shadow Army did not know of the charges before, they certainly would now, for either the Hive Mind or the fleeing enemy's messengers would have relayed their existence to their fellows. That meant that, even if the Equestrian defenders had not already blown the Coltstone Pass, the Changelings certainly could if the Holy Army were to try and force passage through it.

The Holy Army had therefore camped and rested at the Hornburg for two days and two nights while their scouts flew south to inspect the pass. They returned with ill tidings, as expected. The Shadow Army controlled it, having evidently stormed it from the west as part of their initial, surprise invasion of Equestrian territory. There was almost zero likelihood they were now unaware of the explosives, and thus they could block the pass as soon as the Holy Army approached. To reach Canterlot, they would have to take a different route, and that meant going north.

"It is a long journey, Your Highness," General Spectre pointed out the obvious as the trio sipped their tea from ornately decorated cups, part of Celestia's personal supply train that accompanied her on campaign. "A thousand miles or more. Do you have the supplies for such a march?"

"We have all the ammunition we need, yes," Celestia replied, sitting in her flowing robes, her long legs elegantly crossed as she drank her tea. "We shall forage for food, that is no hardship. Speed is the key."

"There must be a faster way," Ostmane mused. "Surely, there must. To head north will take us at least a month. What if the city..."

"There is no faster route, General. We all know this," Celestia replied. "The only way the army can reach Canterlot is to head north around the mountains. We have no alternative. You cannot drive wagon and cannon across the peaks."

"But if the city has already fallen, Your Highness..."

"Then we retake it," Celestia answered simply. "Canterlot will be ours at the end of this war, as it was ours at the start."

"I do not wish to sound pessimistic, Your Highness, but I feel I must inject a note of caution into proceedings," Spectre pondered. "Will your army be in a fit state to fight after such a long march? A thousand miles...a month on the road is a long time, and to go straight into battle from the march is never easy."

"The Holy Army will not be alone," Celestia replied. "I have already sent long-range messengers north to Stalliongrad. If the fates are willing, we shall link up with the reinforcements they are to send to Canterlot, and advance upon the enemy as one."

"A bold and hopefully decisive plan, Your Highness," Spectre nodded. "Let us hope your messengers reach Stalliongrad before the commanders there decide to send their troops directly to the capital. If they have received word from the Canterlot garrison already about their plight..."

"Stalliongrad will send messengers of their own to turn back their reinforcements," Celestia pointed out, "If they receive a message with my seal upon it. If the estimates of the enemy's strength are accurate then the troops from Stalliongrad will most likely not be anywhere near enough to break the siege. We must link the Holy Army together with the Stalliongrad contingent if we are to recapture Canterlot. That is my plan."

"And it is a sound one," Ostmane nodded in agreement with his Princess. "I shall be proud to march with you, Your Highness."

"We shall be leaving you tomorrow morning, General," Celestia added, turning to Spectre once more. "Look after your soldiers. They are fine ponies, and they may well be called upon to give support to the Baltimare force. Even now they are on the move to relieve Saltsburg."

"Yes, Your Highness." Spectre nodded. "It has been an honour indeed to host you and your retinue here at the Hornburg. It is my most fervent wish that you shall be able to visit us again soon, as the victor of this war."

"I shall do so as soon as I am able, General," Celestia confirmed with a smile, rising from her chair and prompting the others to do the same, for none could be seated while the Princess stood, unless explicitly told otherwise. She extended her hand and Spectre bent down to kiss it. "Until next we meet."

"Until next we meet, Your Highness. I wish you and your army the greatest success," Spectre replied. "Keep Canterlot safe. It may not be my home, but it is yours. I am sure you long to return there."

"I do, General, and thank you," Celestia nodded. Together with Ostmane, she departed the war room, leaving Spectre standing alone once more.

The following morning dawned overcast, with thick clouds hanging in the sky like scudding, cresting waves of grey. It was, at least, cooler than it had been for the past week, which would make the first dozen miles of the march more palatable for the Holy Army, who were gearing up for a long, long journey. To reach Canterlot, they would have to travel north for five hundred miles, loop around the top end of the Foal Mountains, and then march south for another six hundred miles, back to Canterlot. At an average marching speed of twenty miles per day, it would take them approximately fifty-five days to reach the capital- and that was on good, paved roads, with no hitches along the way. Almost two months until there was any reasonable hope of the siege being lifted.

The Holy Army marched, a long string of infantry, cavalry protecting the flanks, and a seemingly endless train of artillery wagons, supply carts and cannons. They had a long, tedious, tiring journey ahead of them, but it was a very necessary one. Canterlot was waiting; waiting for help, waiting for aid, waiting for relief from the siege, from the cannon fire and the fear that had gripped the residents. Their Princess was coming, but would she arrive in time?

In Stalliongrad, another march was underway. Orders, received from Canterlot, had come just days earlier. A relief column was rapidly formed from the standing force of the city and province, a combined total of some fifty thousand ponies, with plentiful artillery and a strong cavalry arm. Starswirl the Bearded had ordered, in his capacity as regent, that the Stalliongrad garrison should assemble and march with as many ponies as they could muster to relieve the capital city from its torment, and the commanders had complied. The army had marched south on short notice, its supply train following the next day after enough wagons had hastily been requisitioned from drovers and merchants in the city and its surrounding towns.

It was a three hundred mile march south, a long way, but nowhere near as long as the route the Holy Army had to take. Barring any orders from the Princess, they were bound to follow those of Starswirl, which was what they did with as much alacrity as they could muster, pushing south at a commendable pace of some twenty-five miles a day, the commanders pushing their soldiers as far as they could go. By the time Celestia's messengers arrived in Stalliongrad, after a gruelling flight over the mountains that had seen at least one of their number stop to rest their burning lungs near one of the high, frostbitten peaks and never get up again, the Stalliongrad force had already covered nearly a hundred miles, putting them well out of position. It was another day's flight for a fresh messenger to try and reach the army- a commendable effort, but by the time they arrived, the advancing force had already been split into two parts to envelop the Shadow Army force that lay ahead.

The remainder of the invasion force that was not besieging Canterlot had been moved north, along with additional reinforcements from both homelands. At Sombra's order, they had established a strong blocking position north of the capital, to prevent just such a move as this and hold a relief force at bay. If needed, more troops could be detached from the siege force to go and reinforce the forward line. Facing this force, a hundred miles north of the capital, the General in command of the Stalliongrad relief force had split his troops in two, with a pincer movement in mind. The messenger from Stalliongrad could only intercept one force, giving them the orders to turn back. He was then sent on west to locate the other half, but battle had already been joined.

With orders to retreat coming from Stalliongrad, thanks to a direct command from the Princess ordering the city's forces to standby rather than advance, there was now confusion. One half of the force was now pushing forward against the enemy, while the other was under orders to pull back. The western flank was advancing, until the messenger arrived. The order to retreat was given, but interpreted by several units as a panicked command for flight. They turned and ran, rather than the orderly, smooth, gradual falling back which had been envisioned by the general.

The Shadow Army sniffed blood, and went for the jugular, their fast cavalry ripping through the ranks of the retreating infantry. With the sudden flight, there was no time to pack up the artillery, and many cannons were captured, their crews taken prisoner or cut down trying to defend their firing pieces. The Equestrian cavalry was unable to prevent the rout that was now developing before their eyes, and had no choice but to pull back as well, lest they be cut off. The entire western flank folded in less than an hour. The other half of the force retreated in good order, under the direct command of their general, but the damage had already been done. The Shadow Army had the field and had won the day, inflicting nearly ten thousand casualties upon the Stalliongrad relief force. The rest followed their new orders and returned north, forming a similar defensive line south of the city in case the enemy should try to push on. But they did not, content just to keep the Equestrians at bay, and as far away from the capital as they could. Their objective, at least at this stage, was not total conquest, but the capture of Canterlot. That was all that seemed to matter to them.