The Siege Of Canterlot

"By the Princess, what a damn beautiful morning it is!"

Corporal Snapshot looked around. It was his bullish sluggard of a Sergeant, Billhook, late for duty again. Not that it ever really mattered, for the officer in charge of this section of Trottingham's curtain wall, Captain Oats, was always later still. For a supposed frontier city, Trottingham was not, it seemed, staffed with the finest of Equestrian fighting potential. At least, this section. There was a reason they were overseeing the rear, the north wall that overlooked the road from Canterlot, a hundred and fifty miles distant, and not the southern wall that faced the border.

Snapshot had long ago resigned himself to that. Six months he had been posted here, to the backwater end of a backwater city whose only real purpose these days was to act as a trading post for those intrepid adventurers who dared sally forth into the uncharted, dangerous lands that lay beyond the frontier. Trottingham used to be the mighty fortress city that guarded the bulwarks of Equestria, but, with the recent construction of a string of more heavily defended forts thirty miles to the north, it had lost something of its importance in that regard. It was no longer the only bastion against tyranny from the south, as it had been in decades past. Thus, the best troops now went to the forts of the so-called Corona Line, named because their positions in the broad valley mimicked that of the points upon Celestia's crown. Trottingham was in reality more of a forward outpost these days, with an ever-dwindling civilian population- for who wanted to live so close to danger?

"Good morning, Sergeant.." Snapshot greeted Billhook, who was resplendently slouching into his uniform, like an overweight noble watching a particularly boring opera.

"Anything to report?" Billhook asked, almost rhetorically, receiving the expected reply.

"Nothing, Sergeant."

"Very good, very good. I shan't have to awaken the Captain yet then," Billhook grunted, grasping a fresh green apple from a basket and scoffing it down. One of the small benefits of serving on Trottingham was that the frontier troops always got the best rations, so long as supply could be kept up from the rest of the province.

"Oh, Sergeant? The, uh...gypsy wanted to see you again before she leaves town," Snapshot informed him, drawing a hearty belly laugh from the fat unicorn. "Oh, I bet she does. Can't keep away, that one. Naughty girl..." He licked his lips, partly to clear away the juices from the apple, and partly to demonstrate his lechery. The gypsy was a vagabond pony trader who roamed her way into town every so often to ply her trade. Snapshot didn't have the heart to tell the Sergeant that he knew for a fact that she had also slept with at least two other Sergeants of the Guard, including the Quartermaster, each of whom had rewarded her amply with trinkets and supplies, meaning that she would leave town with even more wares to sell than she had arrived with.

Snapshot busied himself with polishing up the metal part of his musket, a fine, smoothbore weapon of iron and fine oak, the best quality wood that Equestria could provide. The Baltimare-pattern musket, named after its city of origin where the master craftsponies of the Royal Armouries had first constructed it, could deliver accurate fire out to a range of one hundred yards in the hands of an experienced soldier. A trained markspony could extend that even further, though expert sharpshooters tended to prefer the heavier and longer-barreled Canterlot-pattern musket, a more stable firing platform favoured by the gamekeepers of the rich royal estates around the capital and the rest of the Central Province. The musketponies now formed the backbone of every fighting army, for it massively increased their firepower when compared to the simple arrows of old, though teams of crossbowponies were still to be found in most battles as well.

"Sergeant! Sergeant! Something's happening to the south!" Ramble cried from the tower that overlooked the gate. The far-sighted earth pony may have had trouble reading without his spectacles, but he could see things in the distance better than most, hence why he was the lookout.

"Something like...?" Billhook grunted in annoyance. "The arrival of the chow cart, perhaps? I'm ready for breakfast."

"No Sergeant. Come and see!" Ramble shouted down. Billhook grumbled and shook his head. "Fine, fine...you, with me," he gestured to Snapshot, before heading into the tower and up the winding staircase to the top, where Ramble peered over the railing.

"Out there, Sergeant, can you see? Fires, to the south...all along the line!" Ramble pointed. "They must be signal fires..."

"Where? Where...out of the way, boy!" Billhook pushed Ramble aside roughly and took his brass telescope from its rest atop the tower, peering through. Ramble was correct; smoke was rising from half a dozen locations to the south of the city, the sites of border posts and small forts roughly hewn from wooden logs and earth. They were signals. They were warnings.

"Son of a bitch..." Billhook muttered. "It must be a mistake! They can't be serious...'

The bells of the city watch began to ring to rapidly disabuse the Sergeant of that notion. A signal brazier was lit in the north tower to let the border posts know that their signal had been received. There was only one reason why the border posts would all have lit their signal fires at the same time; invasion.

"Turn out the guard, turn out the guard!" Billhook bellowed as the bells began to sound. "Man your wall posts! You, Snapshot! Go wake the Captain and tell her to get her arse up here, NOW!"

"Right, Sergeant!" Snapshot took off from the tower, leaping straight from the balcony and spreading his wings, swooping over the streets. Down below, the traders at the city market were running around in a panic, trying to pack up their wares. The bells they were hearing were not the dulcet tones of the chapel calling them to a service, but the big, heavy, brass gongs of the city watch, acting as an alarm for all the residents and the garrison. They only rang when something was badly awry.

Snapshot swung down to the barracks that served the southern section of the city, where he hoped to find the Captain. He touched down, his feet touching solid ground again. Soldiers were running out of the barracks, muskets in hand, going to form up with their units, affixing their metal helmets in place. The officers' quarters lay to the rear, and Snapshot hurried through the archway into the courtyard where they practised hand-to-hand combat and archery, only to find Captain Oats heading toward him, the blouse of her uniform scruffily fastened and her tricorn officers' hat askew on her head. The dark brown unicorn looked rather the worse for wear- another night of heavy drinking, no doubt, and a rather rude awakening for her.

"Captain! Sergeant Billhook requests your presence in the watchtower as soon as possible..." Snapshot called to her.

"Alright, alright...what's going on?" Oats asked, her sword clanking against her thigh, a pair of flintlock pistols strapped across her chest, ready for use.

"Signal fires, ma'am, on the border," Snapshot explained, falling in step with her as they jogged out of the courtyard and onto the street, nearly being run over by the heavily-laden cart of the gypsy that Billhook had been looking forward to meeting once more, as she whipped the horse pulling it, taking her out of town and away to the north. Oats and Snapshot hurried back to the stairs that led up to the city wall, and then to the watchtower, where Billhook was still peering south.

"Captain..." He turned to her grimly and offered her the use of the telescope. Oats looked through it.

"Fires...how long have they been burning?"

"Ten minutes, ma'am," Ramble replied.

"Then we should be getting a messenger soon. Every fire is lit...damn..." Oats grimaced. "This doesn't make sense...the Changelings are already attacking in the east. They can't have the strength to attack here as well. Do we have orders from the Colonel?"

"Nothing yet, ma'am..." Billhook replied. Colonel Graves was in command of the garrison, and it would be down to him as to what response the city should take; send out a force to relieve the border posts if they were under attack? Conduct a reconnaissance? Seal the gates and prepare for a siege? Only the Colonel could issue those orders, but first they had to wait for the messengers from the border to learn exactly what was happening to their south.

Another ten minutes passed, then another, then a full hour. The soldiers and the militia stood alert on the walls, covering the roads and helping civilians back to their homes. Some fled the city as the gypsy had, taking off north without even waiting for orders from the garrison to do so. The Colonel issued an order, distributed by runner to each post, to hold fast. Another half hour passed. Still no word from the border.

"What the hell is happening out there...?" Oats grunted, perching upon a barrel of ale and drumming her fingers on her thigh. "Are we being attacked or not? Why doesn't the Colonel send out a scouting party?"

"Should I relay a request to the Colonel for you, ma'am?" Snapshot suggested.

"Yes...no...alright, yes," Oats vacillated and finally decided. "Yes, go find the Colonel. Tell him I suggest sending out scouts to the border posts to find out what's going on. All this waiting around isn't doing us any favours. If they haven't sent messengers yet, something must be wrong. We need to know what."

Snapshot took to his wings again and raced away to find the Colonel in his command post. A veteran of many campaigns, Colonel Graves held the respect of his troops, and Snapshot relayed Oats' request to the grizzled earth stallion. Graves snapped a quick reply, and sent Snapshot away to his Captain.

"Ma'am? Colonel Graves says he sent out a scouting party an hour ago but they have not returned, and he..."

"And?" Oats questioned, looking away from the telescope she was now glued to.

"And, uh...he suggests that you..." Snapshot hesitated.

"Yes? Spit it out, Corporal!"

"He suggests that you...kindly shut the hell up, ma'am, and leave him to do his job unless there is something important to tell him..."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Sergeant Billhook couldn't help but smirk at the Colonel's rebuke, while Oats just frowned and said nothing. The Colonel was fond of such barbs, which was why he endeared himself rather more to the soldiers than he did their officers. Another ten minutes passed before Oats cried out.

"I see something...to the south...by the Princess..." she breathed. "No, no...this can't be...oh no, no..." Her composure rather faded away, as did the colour from her face.

"What is it, ma'am?" Billhook questioned, chewing some tobacco he had found from somewhere. "Changelings?"

"No..." Oats shook her head. "The Shadow Army."

Snapshot felt his blood freeze in his veins. The Shadow Army was the military might of King Sombra, not of Queen Chrysalis, and surely...Oats had to be mistaken? It was the Changelings who were attacking Equestria, not the Shadowlands.

"Ma'am...are you certain?" Billhook asked.

"I can see their banners..." she replied. "See for yourself." Billhook looked through the telescope, and came away with a look of great concern on his face. A messenger arrived on the walls below and called up to the Captain.

"Ma'am! The Colonel says hostile forces are coming from the south and would you kindly secure the northern gate!"

"Very good..." Oats called back. "Corporal, get back down to the wall and oversee the gate closure. I want it barred and barricaded."

Snapshot saluted and hurried down the stairs again to the walltop which overlooked the northern road. The heavy wooden gate was already being closed by the guards who were stationed there. Snapshot relayed the Captain's orders to the ponies, and the doors slammed closed, the heavy wooden bar being slid into place. A battering ram could smash the gate down, given time, and cannonballs could shatter the beams, but the gate would stop the enemy simply walking in.

It would not, however, stop them flying in.

"Corporal!" somepony screamed. "Look! What the hell is that? Outside the wall!"

Snapshot turned and looked out over the grass, gently rolling slopes that were split by the road to Canterlot. Clouds of dust were rising all of a sudden, in three separate places. He frowned. What was that?

Outside the wall, the grass was collapsing in on itself, torrents of soil falling into the earth as holes opened up in the terrain. Out from the holes crawled terror itself.