Author's Note

Welcome back to the story, folks. Sorry for the delay on this one, but the graphics you'll see here took a series of weekends and several false starts to create. So I'll clear out and leave you to read this just as soon as I give the usual disclaimers.

First, there is no adult content here, so don't worry about that. And second, the standard boilerplate:

This chapter takes place during chapter 10 and chapter 11 of the original story, and borrows a large amount of text from chapter 11, if heavily modified and expanded for the updated story. You are not only invited but strongly encouraged to check out the original Feathered Heart if you haven’t already, as it inspired many of my own works.

And if you would like some mood music? This seems appropriate:

40: Council of War - Part 1

A dazed Gilda only dimly remembered donning her new armor pieces or returning the Tribune’s salute.

She was also barely cognizant of receiving a parting hug from Marco or going back to have a private chat with Cipio in his office, where they discussed her new duties and responsibilities in the presence of nocreature but his sentries and wife, who Gilda gathered was acting as his personal Magus and bodyguard.

That, or she’s trying to keep an eye on him after learning about him and the Queen, she thought somewhat disdainfully, deciding it was most likely a combination of all three. But also that it wasn’t any of her concern.

“I know this is probably a shock, and that you’ve barely had time to adjust to being a Centurion before rising in rank again,” the Tribune began after offering her a modest amount of good-quality rum to celebrate her promotion; she accepted it gladly even if it amounted to little more than a sip out of a small bowl.

“But if you’ve proven nothing else these past few days, it’s that you learn and grow into a new post quickly,” he added with something approaching sympathy. “Understand, if this was peacetime, you would probably have been recalled to Arnau to face a review of your actions. And would likely be stripped of your chain.”

“If this was peacetime, I would have had no cause for those actions. I would be having my last full day with Marco in Catlais before he left the Kingdom, maybe for good,” she said dully, going downcast for a moment before she caught herself. “Sorry, sir.”

“And if the Cloven had waited those two days to strike, you both would now be dead with your bodies turned into Cloven puppets,” he reminded her with a dry note, “and worse, human weapons would now be turned on the Kingdom.”

“As you say,” she said with a grimace. “Forgive me for asking, sir, but I have no idea how to be a sub-Tribune. I’d seen what Centurions did and how they conducted themselves before, but sub-Tribunes were too far above me to be regularly observed. I know that they command cohorts and act as deputies to their Tribune, but not much else. So with greatest respect, I need your guidance: just where, by all the Crows of the Kingdom, do I begin?”

Though his Uxor seemed unimpressed by the question, which Gilda judged by the quickly suppressed roll of her eyes, he gave a satisfied nod at her statement.

“You admit your inexperience instead of puffing up your chest and pretending that you’re ready for your post. Good,” he noted, nodding approvingly. “I will have Optio Virgo give you some documentation regarding your new rank’s duties and responsibilities to review. But as you have asked me for advice, I will give it now.”

He waited until he had her undivided attention before continuing. “In order to run a proper cohort, especially a mixed-services one, the first thing you will need to do is assemble your staff—and I don’t just mean a second-in-command, though a good one is essential. You will need an adjutant, operations and training officers, a supply specialist, a healer contingent, and representatives of the races and services you’re working with. They should all be trusted and experienced soldiers as familiar as possible with their duties,” he told her, then leaned over the table to emphasize his next words.

“I cannot stress this enough, Behertz: the right choices will greatly ease your way in planning operations and disseminating orders, making your command far more efficient and effective. But the wrong ones will only make it that much more difficult to do what you need. So choose your officers with extreme care,” he told her, awaiting her nod. She gave it, though her mind was already spinning with potential assignments, hoping that whatever documentation Rubens Virgo gave her would offer guidance on appointing her command staff as well.

The Tribune then sat back from his desk, clasping his talons on the stone surface. “All that said, who they are is completely up to you, though I will be more than happy to review your staff assignments later. Just remember that you aren’t merely a sub-Tribune, but a diplomatic liaison—exactly as you originally wanted,” he reminded her with a thin smile, making her suppress a grimace.

“And that means you are to act in the interests of all, not just your mate or the humans. The interests of Changeling, griffon and human must be considered in your actions and orders. Diplomacy is a delicate balancing act, and you cannot challenge them as you did me. To do so is to spark a potentially disastrous schism among important allies, instead of a simple crisis of command,” he said in mild rebuke, then gave her a separate scroll.

Unrolling it, she found that it contained her formal reprimand written by Tribune Narada, signed by not just her and Queen Molyneux but even Ambassador Strenus. She read through it once, and to little surprise, her former commander did not hold back in her assessment of Gilda’s actions after arrival at Aricia.

She called them ‘ill-thought and unhelpful’ among other choice terms, asking Gilda at one point if she was a military officer of the Kingdom or a petulant teen throwing a tantrum over a parental order she didn’t like. To which Gilda could only nod slowly as she signed her name and imparted the document her new command seal, passing it back to Cipio’s wife.

Without being asked, she magically produced a copy of the document on a separate scroll, searing its talon-written text into a fresh sheet of parchment. Despite that, she refused to look at Gilda, which suited the latter just fine.

“Do you wish to respond to the Legate’s assessment of your actions, sub-Tribune?” Cipio then prompted, which Gilda took to be a nudge to do so.

“Yes, sir.” Writing out a quick two-paragraph message on the front of his stone desk, she accepted full responsibility for her actions and the rebuke, but also refused to apologize for them. “It got his attention and forced him to face how foolish his orders truly were. If it took throwing a tantrum to make him see reason, then so be it,” she wrote.

Narada may not like it, but she knows me well enough by now to realize that I don’t generally apologize for anything if I can help it. Just ask Rainbow Dash…

Signing her name to the missive, she rolled up the sheet into a scroll and locked it with her diplomatic seal. “For the Legate’s eyes only,” she told the Tribune as she passed him the magically secured message, which she knew would probably be in Narada’s claws as soon as it could be passed by Dragonfire gems to the capital.

“I would expect no less,” he replied, summoning Rubens Virgo to the office with a talon tap of a bell.

She appeared a few seconds later from a side office with a salute and bared throat, asking how she could be of service. “See to it that these get sent to Arnau with the next round of military messages,” he told her, to which the young Optio bared her throat again, ignoring the baleful look the Tribune’s Uxor gave her. “And then summon the Council of War.”

“Already done, sir,” she responded instantly and crisply. “The war room is fully swept and secured by both our Paladin Magus Knights and the Changeling Silencer drones. The attendees are arriving as we speak. I’m having them scanned and escorted in by Changeling sentries.”

“Excellent,” he replied with a satisfied nod. “Efficient as ever, Optio. You have settled into your role of adjutant quite nicely. But unfortunately, in a change of plans, you and I will not be attending,” he told her to a surprised look. “The primary purpose of the meeting is to share the general war situation we’ve received from Arnau with senior staff so they can form a strategy. But since I already know the situation, there’s no point in me going,” he told Gilda as he turned to her.

“Instead, it is now time for me to play the part of a diplomat by escorting the Maior and the city nobility to meet Queen Lepidoptes and receive a tour of the Changeling airship. As I will likely be requiring you to either take minutes or issue new orders, you will need to come as well, Optio Virgo. I will also be getting the same demonstration of Changeling combat capabilities I’m told that you observed this morning, sub-Tribune,” he noted idly as he began to buckle on his fully restored formal uniform, including an impressive array of weapons. “I expect it will be as enlightening as the earlier demonstration of human cannons.”

“And I will be going with you, this time,” his wife spoke up unbidden before Gilda could answer. “I speak as your Uxor, Cauda Cipio, not as an underling you can order to stay behind,” she further preempted any objections.

“And I know better than to tell you no,” he grumbled lightly. “Very well, my wife. But I strongly suggest you mind your tongue and thoughts in the presence of Queen Lepidoptes. She can sense emotions, and take it from me that she has her ways of punishing offensive conduct. She can even turn your own power against you.”

“We will see,” she said under her breath.

Nope. No tension there… Gilda stifled a grimace, once again very happy that she didn’t have to deal with such a difficult family dynamic, idly wondering if the other eagless would end up getting the same treatment that the Tribune himself had the previous night. Even if she does, I don’t think I care to see this time. “If you are not going to attend the Council of War, then who will be running it?” she asked him, to which he looked up and gave her a level look.

“You will,” he told her after a beat, to which her beak fell open and eyes went wide before she caught herself, struggling to restore her bearing. “It’s for two reasons, sub-Tribune. First, they need to get used to your presence and authority. To that end, this will be their introduction to you. They will be looking for any sign of uncertainty or unworthiness of your new rank, so be damned sure you present yourself well. If it helps, just recall confronting me. You were certainly unafraid of expressing yourself or asserting authority then,” he said with a thin smile, to which Gilda responded with a slightly more wan one.

“And second, I need somegriffon who is already familiar with both human and Changeling troops to help integrate them with our own. It was clear from the Queen’s memory replays that you have a sharp military mind and a good grasp of tactics. Thus, your responsibilities are as follows: run the meeting in my stead, coming up with both tactical and strategic recommendations for how we will defend the city and incorporate the efforts of our new allies,” he told her.

“I will review those recommendations later and decide which to pursue. Just remember that this time, I will expect your unquestioned obedience to my orders, even if you dislike them.” He pinned her with a stare. “There will be no more teenage temper tantrums, Behertz. It is not only unbecoming of a commander, but dangerous to the defense of the city for its corrosive effect on morale. If you have reservations, you can discuss them with me privately, but otherwise keep them to yourself. The stakes are now too grave for public shows of discord among senior staff.”

“By your command,” she said, still inwardly reeling. “I will do as you ask, Tribune. But I request the ability to summon several others to this meeting that I think will need to hear it.”

“The composition of your command staff and escort force are completely up to you, as are those you bring to the war council,” he reminded her again. “To that end, you have full authority to make any changes of command or organization you wish, up to and including promotions. Though if you will accept a suggestion…” He trailed off, waiting until Gilda’s full attention was back on him.

“I strongly recommend that you elevate Optio Giraldi to Centurion, as I originally intended to do. And preferably Spear Centurion to give him additional status and authority as your second. He’s not only well past due for such a rank, but he’s the most able and experienced soldier we have. And as it seems he respects you, those who respect him will respect you in turn.”

“Yes, sir,” she nodded thoughtfully, her mind awhirl as she again tried to piece together in her head who would be doing what. “I’ll see to it.”

“Good. I will return this evening—or sooner if the Cloven threatens, though that seems unlikely for now given the dearth of activity outside the city. But as we cannot count on that, summon me immediately if they appear.” He passed her a communication crystal, awaiting her nod and bared throat.

She offered them promptly. “By your command. And if, by chance, you are… unavailable?” she asked cautiously, causing him to give her the same withering glare his wife gave him.

“I know my duty, Behertz. Be assured that I am not going to shirk it to indulge with the Queen,” he said sharply, but then deflated, hard. “Though on that subject, Crows know that there is one other possibility that should be considered and planned for.” He dipped a quill in ink and began to write out a fresh order on his desk.

He wrote for a minute before speaking again. “The Cloven tried to assassinate me once already, and there is always a chance I could die in combat as I nearly did two days ago. If I am killed or incapacitated, that will leave the city bereft of an experienced Tribune to command the defense. If that happens, this is what you will do…” He passed her the order scroll, the contents of which caused her to look up in surprise.

“You want to give command to—”

“As you were, Behertz!” He snapped hard before she could finish her sentence, causing her beak to clack shut as she realized what she’d nearly done. “That is a confidential communique about an important contingency plan, not gossip to be blabbed about over drinks with your friends, or even to be discussed in my own office! So by all the Crows of the Kingdom, remember your place and mind your tongue at all times! Do not divulge that document to anycreature!” he reiterated.

She stiffened hard and saluted, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment and self-directed anger as she realized he was right—the contents of the message could be seen by many griffons as incendiary, if not outright treasonous; revealing it now could cause anything from severe grumbling to outright mutiny.

I can’t believe I nearly said it out loud! Really, REALLY bad idea, Grizelda Behertz! she berated herself in turn, sparing a look at the faces of the Paladin and Silencer sentries stationed around the periphery of the office, all of which were carefully impassive. “By your command, Tribune. I will speak of it to nobody, and not even reveal it exists unless needed.”

“Nobody?” His Uxor echoed incredulously in Equish. “So, you not only lay with an ape, but have even acquired their improper grammar? Does your griffon heritage mean nothing to you, Grizelda Behertz?”

Gilda clenched her beak hard, suddenly barely able to restrain herself from snarling at the other eagless. She felt her anger surging along with the cider within her at the insulting implication, smelling it almost instantly in the air around her as her cheeks went red and vision pink.

Holding onto her broiling temper with all her acquired willpower, she was ready to return the insult or even throw down the gauntlet to the other eagless right then and there. But yet again, the Tribune intervened before she could. “By all the Crows of the Kingdom, will you please shut up!?” he told his wife sharply, his feathers ruffling hard.

“This is a military meeting, not a dinner party with the Maior! Your opinion was neither asked for, nor needed! But even if it were otherwise, her relationship is not your concern, nor anycreature else’s here! She would be within her rights to challenge you for such a disparaging remark, and I would be hard-pressed to deny her satisfaction! You will take it from me that her love for Marco Lakan is real—that she will defend his honor, and her own!” he all but snarled, his wings flaring from behind his desk.

Despite the dressing down, his wife only smirked and lowered her head. “If she wants a challenge, I’d be more than willing to entertain it! She needs to be reminded of her place and race by a real griffon!”

“Tribune…” Gilda growled warningly as she felt a hot fire growing in her belly, her wings flaring in rage as her gold pupils fixed on the other eagless.

“As you were!” She wasn’t sure if the remark was more directed at herself or the Tribune’s wife, given he shot them both a warning glance, then exhaled heavily.

“I will ask, but not order, sub-Tribune Behertz, that you hold off on a challenge for now, given my wife and I are going to see Queen Lepidoptes shortly. I’m sure you recall how she dealt with offensive conduct?” Cipio reminded her mildly, eliciting an evil grin from Gilda. “At this rate, there is no doubt that she will have reason to deal with it again. So with that in mind, let’s see how you—and especially her—feels after the visit before dueling. I remind you that the Queen changed my mind before when it was set in stone. Perhaps she can work her magic again.”

Gilda closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to force her anger to drain away. “As you wish, Tribune. I will wait. But know this, Lenta Placere—” she paused long enough to turn to the other eagless and pin her with a stare, lashing her tail hard “—you will either apologize to me and Marco Lakan for your insults to honor after meeting the Queen, or we will duel. And Magus or no, do not expect to be the victor of our bout.”

“An honorless and magic-less sky griffon beating me? That’ll be the day,” his wife said dismissively. “But fine. I can wait a few hours to put you in your richly deserved place.” She then turned away from Gilda in a deliberate insult, in essence telling her that she was no threat and not worth her time.

Cipio stared after her for a few moments before returning his attention to Gilda. It’s a good thing I’m NOT a teenager anymore, because it used to be I would have attacked her for that alone! But Gilda’s still-dark thoughts were interrupted by Cipio thumping his tail twice on the floor below in a surprisingly heavy sound, gaining her attention again.

“Back to business, Behertz. I know my wife can be infuriating, but be the better griffon here and don’t let her get to you. Keep that order I gave you in reserve, and by all the Crows of the Kingdom, do not reveal it exists until and unless it becomes necessary to use it,” he instructed her again, awaiting her nod and bared throat.

“And one other thing—if I fall in battle, do not try to take command of the city yourself as the ranking officer. I mean it! You’re a very promising young commander, but you are not ready for that level of leadership. And this is the one time you cannot learn to do so on the fly. Especially if, Ancestors forbid, the Cloven corrupt me.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, sir,” she told him weakly, her anger ebbing quickly at the prospect. “Believe me, I know I’m not ready. After all, if I thought I was, I would have pushed for your immediate removal yesterday. For which I would have been a complete and utter foal.”

Without thinking, she lapsed into the pony jargon when she had a sudden image of Rainbow Dash flash through her head again. But for some reason, her mind pictured her as she’d never been before: dressed in a military uniform with a shorn mane, armed with wingblades and ready for battle like the pegasi of old.

“Then at least you have some sense, Behertz,” Cipio said mildly, then studied her curiously. “Between that pony word and the violet highlights in your headcrest, I take it that you’ve spent significant time in Equestria?”

“For a good part of my cubhood,” she reluctantly admitted, only because she was certain the Tribune wouldn’t hold it against her. “I grew up in Cloudsdale from age six, only returning to the Kingdom five years ago.”

“Well, that explains much…” His Uxor needled her, but this time, Gilda ignored her despite the pink growing at the edges of her vision again as the Tribune glared the older eagless silent.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” she asked through a clenched beak, deciding it was best to remove herself from the presence of the Tribune’s wife before her still-smoldering cider-fueled temper yet got the better of her. “If not, I need time to get ready for the Council of War.”

Though he seemed ready to dismiss her for a moment, he abruptly changed his mind. “Not quite. There’s one more thing.”

“Sir?”

He studied her again for a few seconds, though she wasn’t sure what he was looking for this time. But whatever it was, he seemed satisfied and nodded slowly. “You’ll do fine in your new post, Behertz. I’ve seen for myself how you’ve risen to every other challenge given you over the past few days. So I have no doubt you’ll rise to this one,” he told her, to which she could only bare her throat at the compliment.

“We’ll review your recommendations from the war council together later this evening, after I return from meeting Queen Lepidoptes and later inspect the city defenses. And don’t be surprised if you get invited to have dinner with the city’s civilian leadership. Your new post, unfortunately, means that you’re no longer a mere military leader. You also get to play some politics with the local elites. So make certain you’re available tonight. And be also warned that they may wish to meet your human mate,” he further advised her.

Even as she grimaced, Gilda read between the lines, picking up on his subtle instruction to not be having fun with Marco or his friends just then. “As you yourself said earlier, I know my duty, Tribune. Though you’ll forgive me for not looking forward to that dinner with… with the Maior and the local nobility.” She just caught herself from saying ‘with a bunch of self-important civilian dweebs’.

To her surprise, he gave her a wry grin. “Then despite what my wife thinks, you’re very much a proper griffon and officer, Behertz. Dismissed.”

An hour later, Gilda strode with purpose into the War Room of Aricia, waiting until a call for attention was given by the senior officer and all present had risen in respect of her new rank. She was not alone, flanked to the right and left by Giraldi and Obsidian Ire while also trailed by Karin Kazal and Archon Skorpius, who Gilda had likewise invited along as representatives of their respective races.

It was her first look inside the large room that appeared almost identical to the one in Arnau, which she’d visited once during an off-duty tour when she was assigned to the capital city for her latest rotation.

Just as it had been there, the war room was an enclosed windowless circular space with a dome ceiling, with the center of the room occupied by a large square table made of green stone around which a series of cushions were arrayed as seats. The only real difference she could see were the banners representing Western Colors hanging down at angles to form pseudo-walls at intervals, with the sole source of light being a series of crystals in the ceiling through which both daylight and nighttime firegem illumination could be channeled.

Magically shrouded, it was designed to allow for maximum privacy for official military meetings, keeping the confidential discussions that took place there away from roaming eyes and ears.

To her surprise, Gilda found the familiarity of it somewhat comforting, especially given her newly anointed responsibility of overseeing the Tribune’s war council in her new guise of sub-Tribune.

In purely numerical terms, her rank gave her the ability to command a cohort of five centuries, which she planned to form from both the soldiers she’d already had, other Auxiliary Guard troops and what she hoped would be a borrowed century of Changeling drones from Queen Lepidoptes, who she hadn’t had a chance to speak with yet aside from one brief exchange of messages. To her credit, the Changeling monarch had congratulated her warmly, saying Gilda had ‘more than earned her post’ and inviting her to ‘discuss her new duties’ over tea later.

Despite her approbation, Gilda had to stifle another grimace as she walked in. Crows take it… am I ever going to get comfortable with a rank or post before I get elevated to a new one? She wondered wanly as she took her place at the front of the table on a slightly elevated section of floor, finding the weight of her new metal breastplate bearing down uncomfortably on her chest.

And this thing is heavy. How by all the Crows of the Kingdom am I supposed to fly and fight with it? She internally groused even as she did her best to stand tall and proud in her immaculate new armor, not wanting to show any doubt or weakness as she carried out her first assigned responsibility in her new rank, calling the Council of War to order.

She was just glad she didn’t flinch when the eyes of everycreature turned to her when she had entered the room, causing all present to instantly snap to attention; she was only dimly aware of Giraldi whispering a small praise of her acting professionally as he slowly and subtly urged her forward.

The officers of multiple militaries and service branches stood stiffly as she reached the center of the circular room, where she could see a raised rectangular platform filled with sand. She could feel their eyes darting to her as she neared in brief and barely seen appraisal, judging her worthiness of her new rank right then and there.

And crows know I wouldn’t blame them one bit if they found it wanting. She tried to recall the times she had been present in any previous meetings as a simple sentry; tried to remember how then-Tribune Narada seemed to carry herself.

And then her thoughts went even deeper, recalling her time as a cub as she peeked through the crack of her father’s door as he, too, led a similar meeting among the local nobility. I wonder what he’d think of me now…? To her surprise, the thought of seeing his jaw dropped open as she showed up at his doorstep in her sub-Tribune armor made her have to stifle a smile.

Standing directly behind the map table from her was an earth griffon tiercel Centurion she recognized from her prior rotation in Aricia, though Gilda had last known him three years earlier as a First Spear. He had been previously assigned to the garrison headquarters staff as an aide and orderly, but seemed to have ascended the ranks sharply since.

Just like me. Or did he only make Centurion thanks to assassinations and battle losses on the first day? She wondered idly if anygriffon was still in their previous post. “Centurion Fillius,” she called out to him. “Congratulations on your promotion to Chief of Staff.”

“And congratulations to you as well, sir,” he replied with a perfunctory bared throat without smiling. Before she addressed him, he had been staring fixedly at Corporal Imlay, whose face seemed to be carved in stone as he stood off to the side. Giraldi gave her a sharp nod before he placed himself beside Imlay, while she situated herself between the Centurion and the Corporal. “Unexpected though it is, welcome to the council, sub-Tribune Behertz,” he further said, signaling all attendees to salute her by doing so himself. “We are honored by your presence.”

Though Gilda wasn’t sure he meant it, she returned the respect promptly with a thump of her talons to her new chestplate, wincing slightly at the metallic ringing sound it produced. “Thank you, Centurion. The honor is mine. Is everycreature present who should be?” She looked around and saw all the griffons nodding.

“All Talon, Guard, Knight, Paladin, Naval and Raven representatives are accounted for, sir,” Fillius replied, looking at her for a moment before staring at Imlay. “But they are not alone. As you can see, Optio Giraldi insisted on bringing our… human guests and other allies to the meeting. He said you approved,” he added in a tone that told Gilda that he emphatically didn’t.

“Correct,” she said shortly, giving him a look that warned him not to press her on the matter. “Corporal Imlay is the commander of a foreign military force aiding the city’s defense, so if he is to fight alongside us effectively, he has to be here. And the same goes for the dragons, changelings, and ibex you see before us.”

“No offense intended, sir, but are you sure that’s wise?” Fillius asked in Aeric as he glanced at Imlay first, followed by a far more baleful look at Karin Kazal. “This meeting is about sharing information and planning defensive strategies to present to the Tribune. The humans, I believe, are not yet our formal allies. And the ibex most certainly are not,” he said with an expression of distaste, apparently not realizing that the buck could understand him.

To Gilda’s surprise, Miles Fortuna answered before she or the Starshina could; she was present as the senior Raven representative. “The Ascendancy is just as endangered as we are,” she replied on their behalf, earning a sharp nod from both. “Like it or not, we and the Ibex are now allies in the struggle against the Cloven. He and his comrades have thus pledged their help to the Kingdom for the duration of the war, and much to my own surprise, they’ve proven repeatedly that they can be trusted.”

“For the duration? And what about afterwards?” Fillius asked with a suspicious air, to which Gilda first silenced the Starshina with a warning glance before giving Fillius a level look.

“As you would know had you been listening to the Tribune’s speech, the Queen has ordered them to be set free,” she replied, earning a dropped-open beak. “Don’t look so surprised. They have aided and even saved us repeatedly, so as the Queen herself said, honor requires it.”

Though the looks Gilda got from other attendees were best described as stunned—had nogriffon present listened to the speech other than her? —she decided to settle the matter by sitting down at the map table, signaling all present to do the same.

“To business, then,” she said in Equish for Imlay’s benefit before recalling he was still wearing his translation gem, so she switched back to Aeric. “As all of you know, this is a strategy session to devise an ongoing defense of the city that will later be presented to the Tribune. To that end, we will need to know the overall war situation as well as the local one. I understand that we now have a full picture of the Cloven invasion throughout all Aresia?” She addressed Fillius directly.

Pausing to gather himself, he nodded once. “Yes, sir. If nothing else, we got enough information from Arnau to make clear just why it is so important that the city be held for as long as possible, even as an isolated island in a Cloven-controlled countryside,” he said grimly as a Magus Knight Decurion Gilda didn’t know pointed her staff at the map table, causing the sands within it to start swirling.

When they had stilled, they formed a map of greater Aresia and adjoining lands. It perfectly matched the one on a piece of parchment she kept in front of her; the detail of the map was so great that the Magus had even formed darker areas corresponding to seas and mountains.

Though Gilda was impressed at the feat, she didn’t have time to wonder how long that particular magic took to master before the Senior Spear went on. “With your permission, sub-Tribune?” Fillius prompted with a motion of his talons towards the newly generated map, to which Gilda nodded.

“Thank you. First, some background. As all of you well know, we nearly went to war with the Ibexian Ascendancy during the past month over an assault on a foreign embassy in Arnau. As a result, we shifted many of our interior legions and airship flotillas to the east towards the Pearl Mountains, thus stripping the south and west of soldiers.”

He paused long enough for the Magus to first simplify the map by removing most notations except for cities and military bases, followed by overlaying them with a series of unit icons that rose out of the sand at their locations.

She left them in place for only a few seconds before setting them in motion, causing half the unit icons to flow through Aresia towards the east, forming a thick wall on them before the mountain range and southern river that marked the border with the Ibex.

“Either by accident or design, the Cloven then took advantage of this distraction to attack out of the south and west, first invading the volcanic isles of Silicaly, Seardina and Charsica in the Servalanian Sea to corrupt the Vesuvius dragon clan,” he explained with a glance up at Obsidian Ire, causing her jaw to clench as the sands that represented the three islands turned an ugly shade of black.

“But that wasn’t the only place they hit. It turned out that they had secretly established an array of underground factories throughout the Kingdom near major coastal military bases and cities, which were churning out not just various soldier forms but countless Cloven parasites. At a collective signal to attack, they were then all set loose at once. They burst out of the grounds throughout the bases and cities; many millennia of parasites overwhelming the garrisons and civilian populations alike.”

Gilda exchanged a look with Giraldi as a series of equally black blobs appeared all over the western shores of the map. They coincided with the location of mostly coastal bases and cities, leaving Gilda reflecting that the Tribune was right—if the invasion had happened just a couple days later, it would have caught her and Marco in Catlais along with the entirety of the escorting Marines.

Thank the Ancestors they didn’t wait. Because if they had… she had to suppress a shiver at not just the thought of her and Marco slain in their sleep, but as the Tribune had reminded her would happen, the idea of human weapons turned on the Kingdom from the very start.

Once again, Fillius waited until the Magus had finished shifting the sands to show the updated situation, including unit icons turned black to indicate that they had been killed and corrupted en masse. “They were able to launch simultaneous attacks on almost the entirety of our shoreline from the Italos peninsula to the north coast of Bardavia, including the south shores of Eagleland.

“Fortunately for us, the effective use of these Cloven tactics did not reach that far from the coast for the most part. That’s either because the corrupted Diamond Dogs they’d been using hadn’t yet dug tunnels under more inland cities and bases, or because they simply hadn’t been able to establish enough underground factories to produce sufficient parasites,” he mused.

“As a result, such attacks further inside Aricia generally failed, but not without producing a great deal of havoc that sent civilian and military populations alike into disorder, resulting in crippling casualties much like here.”

This time, the Magus showed additional black dots materializing on a series of cities and bases further inland, including Aricia, but this time they reverted back to sand color quickly. Several unit icons representing legions and airship flotillas partially crumpled into sand, however, showing from their remaining portion that they were at half-strength or worse.

“Though momentarily successful at repulsing the Cloven, these attacks left those military and population centers very vulnerable to waves of corrupted griffons and fresh formations of soldier forms sweeping in from the coast. As a result, a second line of towns and cities generally fell and their populations fled for their lives, not always successfully.”

He paused to let the words sink in and the map change again; Gilda quickly noted the entire chamber fell dead silent at not just the revelation but the speed of the Cloven conquest of the Kingdom’s coastline. “Earth griffons and Caleponians were generally able to escape along highways with enough warning time, sometimes pulling wagons full of cubs and foals with them,” he said grimly.

“But when they tried to escape by air, Earth Griffons fell easily due to being ultimately unable to outfly swarms of Cloven flyers or worse, corrupted mages who set lightning field enchantments in front of them. Even sky griffons fell victim to such tactics, though a legion’s worth of soldiers succeeded in fleeing at low altitude from various bases to reach safety at Pariskeet.” He noted. “With their help, the city held and is now our bulwark in the north.”

As Gilda watched, a wider stripe of the Aresian coast turned black with occasional Cloven incursions going in deeper, reaching for additional towns and cities. “But the west was not so lucky as invading Cloven forces surged inland from both coasts to pinch off the only ground exits from the Ibearian peninsula, trapping the bulk of the populace there by throwing a line of field enchantments across the crest of the Skyreneese Mountains. I regret to report the entire population of Ibearia is now trapped and presumed lost. Though the remnants of the legions there still fight, there is no way to save them. Even if they still live, it seems certain that they are doomed to die and become part of the Cloven War machine.”

Gilda found herself slumping at the news. An entire province’s population lost? Just like that? It was all she could do to not show her horror as the Centurion went on.

“We were unable to assist them or break the blockade. Not after our surviving forces in the area were overwhelmed by waves of corrupted adult dragons from the Vesuvius clan, who targeted our largest military bases in the West with a priority on destroying airships and Naval yards,” he said, tapping several points on the map Gilda knew coincided with naval bases.

“As a result, we lost almost all our remaining airship forces—at least four entire battle groups—in both Ibearia and Gauleon; what remains of them fled to here and Pariskeet or fell en route.”

There was a suddenly loud thump of a tail followed by the screeching sound of claws dragging on stone; looking up, Gilda realized the source was Obsidian Ire.

“My apologies,” she said shortly, clenching and releasing her fists repeatedly as she tried but failed to force the fiery air in her lungs to cool. “The Centurion speaks true. When they invaded us, they used much the same tactics as you described, with swarms of parasites bursting out of the ground beside the hoards of our sleeping adults,” the large drakina recalled painfully.

“All it took was one crawling in their ears to capture them. Fully half of them were taken before we realized something was wrong. But by then, it was too late. The bulk of our adults and even our beloved Dragon Lord turned on their own kindred, crushing our eggs and attacking our unsuspecting adolescents, who were forced to fight their own mothers and fathers,” her tail began to tremble violently, and Gilda realized then it was all the proud dragon female could do not to cry.

After a few more gulps of breath, she was able to continue, though her chest glow intensified further with each inhalation. “Realizing what was happening from our ancient legends, we tried to fight back and stem the tide of our own corrupted clan, but in the end, there was little we could do but flee for our lives in every direction. Twenty of us escaped north from Charsica on the back of Hiera, our final living adult.” Her entire body began to shake, and it was several seconds before she could continue.

“After we found the Kingdom’s southern coastal communities already overrun, I vaguely remembered from my previous time in the Kingdom that there was a large military base at Aricia and told him to fly for it, praying to the Ancient Dragon Lords that it was far enough inland to not already be captured. Badly injured in battle, it was all he could do to get that far. He did it despite his wounds, but the effort killed him! By the Ancient Dragon Lords, he sacrificed himself to save us…” She couldn’t continue as she finally had to hide her face in her talons.

“Then know that his sacrifice was not in vain, powerful and noble drakina,” Giraldi spoke up, his voice solemn. “This city still stands thanks to your timely warning and the aid of your clan. The humans still live and an Overlord is dead thanks in large measure to your presence.” He dared to put a set of comforting talons on her arm, and to Gilda’s mild surprise, she didn’t try to throw it off.

“He speaks true,” Fillius added gently. “Know, Obsidian Ire, that much of your clan still lives—that several centuries of your kindred also reached the Italon peninsula and raised the alarm there. Forewarned and backed by scores of your adolescents, our cities and bases there were able to mount a proper defense,” he told her, causing her to perk up slightly.

“Thanks to your clan’s timely warning and aid, we were able to evacuate the most exposed areas and establish a solid defensive line in the mountains across the middle of the peninsula, with the bulk of our soldiers and civilians retreating in good order towards the north. With dragon help, we were even able to retake the Southern Territory capital city of Roan and carry out scorching protocols further south, starving the Cloven factories there of food.”

He again nodded at the Magus, who focused on that part of the map to show that only the southern third of Italos had turned black with just a few small shrunken strips of occupied territory remaining along the northwestern coast. A line of fortifications then rose out of the sand midway up the peninsula, with a series of full-strength legions backing it.

“This is what your clan’s fight and flight achieved, Obsidian Ire. Though we abandoned half the peninsula, its populace did not suffer the fate of the Ibearian one, thanks in large measure to your kindred. This means that the southern flank of the Kingdom is safe for now,” he told her, though Gilda wasn’t sure why Imlay did a double-take at the altered map, then shook his head in something that almost seemed like wonder.

“This also means that our province of Servalania and the Saddle Arabian Stallionate of Graze have had time to prepare for attack. Both now stand ready to repel an invasion, as both we and the Saddle Arabians have moved multiple armies and airship flotillas into the area. So the Cloven coastal assault tactics they employed against us on the first day will not work again further east. If they try, they will be spotted and annihilated the instant they emerge,” he promised, then turned his attention to the southeast corner of the map.

“And on that subject, the Saddle Arabians are as yet untouched and rapidly mobilizing their entire military, so we may yet see them enter Kingdom lands later to launch a joint counteroffensive. For now, their airship fleets guard the Eastern Servalanian Sea, where they stand watch over both Graze and Steedgypt as well as the Minotaurian home island of Minos.”

“And the Minotaurians themselves?” Giraldi asked. “Their advanced armaments and mobile siege engines could be of great aid.”

“Perhaps, Optio. But we have heard nothing from them except through the Saddle Arabians, who report that they are turning their island into a fortress and have thus far refused all entreaties to assist or join a shared defense.”

“Толстоголовые дураки.To turn turtle against the Cloven is tantamount to suicide,” Karin Kazal shook his head in disgust, lapsing into his native tongue for a moment. “No static position or fortifications can ultimately hold against them. The only chance to defeat them is to take the offensive—to rip them out at the root by annihilating their Overlords and destroying their factories. Then and only then can they be made extinct.”

And once again, having somehow absorbed knowledge of the Ibexian language from the previous day’s memory sharing, Gilda’s mind automatically translated it. Thick-headed fools? Can’t disagree. But isn’t turning turtle what we’re doing in Aricia right now…? She tried not to think about it, instead addressing the still-sniffling and ashamed-looking drakina.

“You’ve now heard all that your clan did. So be proud of yourself and your kindred, Obsidian Ire. You have all proven to be true warriors and worthy of the dragon name. That they failed to finish you off at the start may yet prove to be the most critical Cloven mistake in this war.” She then called for attention and saluted the black-scaled female, signaling everycreature in the room to do the same.

They did so crisply, holding it until she looked up and saw them. Though still emotional, she stood tall and returned the honor with a double-fisted salute before turning away, trying to hide her wet and steaming eyes behind her talons.

“I can sense your grief is real, Obsidian Ire. Do not fear to display it, for at its core is love,” Archon Skorpius added sympathetically. “Love of your clan and your lost leader. What you feel is both normal and natural. And believe me when I say that the sub-Tribune is correct: none here would claim that you have not lived up to the long and illustrious legacy of your Dragon Lord.”

His words—and the accompanying sounds of agreement—elicited some more half-stifled sobs from the drakina that caused her to stagger and lean back heavily against a wall. And this time, it was not her chest but her abdomen that glowed with fierce internal flame, which Gilda could only relate to the strong emotions you sometimes felt in the pit of your stomach.

Well, what do you know? She really does have a heart! She hadn’t been sure the proud drakina was capable of such a display, given the only emotions she’d really seen out of her before were pride and anger.

Then again, she did seem almost ready to cry when offered the affection and attention of those two Raven eaglesses last night! Guess it’s just the nature of dragons that she normally hides her emotions. Whatever the answer, she offered Obsidian Ire the chance to step outside and compose herself, to which she shook her head hard and clutched at her glowing belly and suddenly bent double like she had a bad stomach ache.

“I will not give into rage or despair. I will not,” she told herself through pained hisses over and over, then asked for cold water, to Gilda’s great surprise. When it was delivered, she drank it all down, causing a great gout of steam to erupt from her snout and nostrils. But it also visibly quenched her gullet fire, and with it, her pain and excess emotions, to judge by her heavy exhalation and sudden unsteadiness as she staggered back against the wall.

Within a few seconds more, she was able to stand again, though she had to lean hard against the barrier. “My apologies for such an unforgivable display, sub-Tribune and Centurion,” she then offered, her voice more or less even. “It will not happen again. Please continue.”

“No apology necessary,” Gilda told her, amazed at all the horrors she and her surviving clanmates had already endured. And I thought our ordeal was bad? Theirs was a hundred times WORSE!

“Please fetch the drakina some gemstones from the weapons vault. Sapphire, if possible,” she told an orderly, dimly recalling from a half-remembered lesson during the Gauntlet that such a gem had a soothing, cooling effect on them. “Have any available Magus remove the attack enchantments on them first.”

“Thank you,” Obsidian Ire bared her throat in Gilda’s direction, making the latter take a mental note to have her two Raven lovers from the previous night visit her later, to offer comfort if nothing else.

While waiting for the crystals to be delivered and Obsidian Ire to compose herself further, watching as Archon Skorpius offered the Queen’s counseling to the tall drakina as a means of helping her come to terms with the destruction of her clan, Gilda saw that Imlay was still standing alone off to the side. He was staring fixedly at the map table, which was still frozen in its last display.

The griffons of the Tribune’s staff were generally ignoring him aside from an occasional wary glance, with their gazes lingering on the portable cannon he wielded. Suddenly looking up to notice Gilda’s eyes on her, Imlay gave her a subtle nod and a small smile. She didn’t know whether to be glad or nervous that the Corporal was trusting her to represent him and his Marines to her people, or if he felt at all out of place there among so many alien races.

Hard to say. It didn’t take me long to get used to being around humans, so maybe it’s the same in reverse? She wondered idly, only belatedly noting that Fillius was calling to her. “I’m sorry, Centurion. What?”

“My apologies, sub-Tribune,” he answered carefully in Aeric with a bared throat. “I was just wondering again why the human is here, given there is little he can offer this discussion. No offense, but he is unfamiliar with our land, military, and weaponry.”

His words earned a stare and a smirk from Imlay, who was still wearing his translation gem on the side of his helmet facing away from Fillius. “That’s where you’re wrong, Centurion,” he replied in Equish, earning a flinch from the former First Spear.

“It may interest you to know that your continent of Aresia is almost identical to one called Europe from my own world. That the tactics you use are right out of our history books. And indeed, that your entire Kingdom bears an uncanny resemblance to a great power from our own past as well, from the language you speak to the weapons you wield,” he said dryly, and then realizing all eyes were on him, he simply charged forward.

“Just because I don’t speak up doesn’t mean I’m not able to understand all this, or offer my own opinions. Just that I don’t think it’s my place to, given everyone in this room is much higher ranked than me.” He turned to Gilda for support.

She gave it readily. “I invited you here for your experience and insights, Corporal. You are the highest ranked human present and that gives you full authority to speak on this matter. We’re going to need to integrate your Marines into our military efforts, and we will need your help to do so. So by my order, please speak up if you have something to say.”

“By your command.” He grinned and bared his throat at her. “So far, though, I’m finding this more educational than anything else. And rather refreshing, actually. At my level of leadership, I don’t usually get a birds-eye view of a campaign like this, and certainly not so well-illustrated. It’s very helpful.”

His words were again met with a measure of distaste, to judge by a few twitching tails and one or two ruffled feathers. “With due respect, sub-Tribune, it almost sounds like he is here to gather intelligence rather than to help us,” Fillius tried again. “And the same could be said for the ibex. I am not comfortable revealing this intelligence to them. Even if they are helping us now, the information revealed could conceivably be used against us later.”

“While I appreciate your candor and vigilance,” Gilda began in strained patience, noting that true to his usual stoic nature, Imlay appeared unperturbed to have such insulting accusations leveled against him, “you’re wrong about them both, Centurion. The Cloven have indiscriminately attacked the humans and ibex alike, bringing both their soldiers and civilians within our walls. Whether you like it or not, we need them, and they are here to help. And considering the situation, for the ibex to betray us would mean their instant death.”

“We already know we have no chance of survival out there, Centurion. Five of my Adept comrades died in a running battle with the Cloven as they used corrupted Magus Knights to track us down.” Karin Kazal bowed his head in remembered sorrow. “The remaining three of us would have been killed and corrupted ourselves if not for a rather… unlikely rescue. Which in turn would have been impossible without the humans and their potent weapons to save the former Centurion’s force.” He bowed his antlers towards her, to which she bared her throat back as an equivalent gesture.

“The Cloven are not some old wizard or warlord from ancient times you can bargain with, Centurion,” Archon Skorpius pointed out after the Starshina was done speaking. “They cannot be bought or bribed, for all they are interested in is the assimilation of all life into their collective—believe me, Changelings know their nature better than anycreature. To leave the safety of these walls is to invite certain death, and all present know it. Even those who might otherwise call the Kingdom enemy.” He looked pointedly at Karin Kazal, who smirked and dipped his antlers in respect towards him.

Fillius frowned, only to nod a few moments later. “As you say, sir.” Gilda guessed he didn’t know how else to address the visibly large and powerful drone. “As all seem to be ready, may I continue the briefing now?” he then prompted, waiting for Gilda’s nod to do so.

“Proceed,” she invited, stepping up to the map table again.

“Thank you. As it turned out, while the main Cloven attack was against our western shorelines, there were also efforts by our enemy to establish Cloven clusters far away from the coast, in the Aresian interior,” he explained as the map shifted again, this time to display a series of small but red-rimmed black areas further back in the Falcine mountain range behind Arnau, and even a few points further north and east, looking like a series of ugly boils erupting and spreading on the very body of the Kingdom.

“Its aim seems to have been to force the Kingdom to split our forces to deal with them, as they knew we could not ignore such a spreading threat in our rear areas. What the Cloven did not do this time was burrow under cities to create them, instead choosing isolated areas away from towns, cities, and steadholts,” he said in audible relief.

“This would seem to indicate that they couldn’t create big enough clusters to overcome the initial resistance of such places, even taking them by surprise. As to why, perhaps they simply didn’t have enough time or resources to do so properly. Or perhaps they couldn’t do so safely without being noticed that deep in the Aresian interior,” he further mused.

“Regardless of the reason, it worked to our advantage. Most of the small interior clusters were wiped out before they could truly establish themselves, thanks in large measure to what we later learned was Changeling help in locating them.” He gave a grudging bared throat of respect to Archon Skorpius.

“The clusters in the Falcine Mountains were cleared first with the aid of Bardavian airship groups and the Talon legions protecting the capital, supported by many millennia of Auxiliaris and even the local Peacekeepers. Nevertheless, the enemy effort did bear fruit in places, as they cut our communications at several critical points. This wreaked havoc in our rear areas via ambushes and field traps that both civilians and soldiers blundered into, thwarting the Kingdom’s efforts to organize an effective evacuation or military response to the invasion for the better part of a day.”

The mage’s stave glowed again to show military units shifting west only to run into storms of lightning that battered them, setting the mountain forests ablaze and severely weakening icons representing several legions as the sand that made them partially crumbled away.

“Worse, some of the clusters in the Bardavia and Pantheria provinces survived and merged their captured territory, coming under the control of a single Overlord that then established larger factories. They are now encircled and being slowly crushed, but their presence alone means the Kingdom is not yet able to mass enough forces to launch any meaningful offensive operations in the South or West,” he said as the map showed two larger black blobs and one smaller one being ringed by griffon units in central and eastern Aresia.

“So until those Cloven concentrations are fully cleared from our rear areas and the bulk of our forces are shifted west from the Ibexian border, all the Kingdom can do for now is hold defensible lines and repulse further Cloven efforts to penetrate the Aresian interior, to which Aricia is key to the effort in the west.” Gilda stated, finally forming a full picture of what was happening in her head.

“And therefore, our purpose in staying here is to play the same spoiler role that those Cloven areas in the Kingdom’s rear are: Tie up large numbers of enemy forces for as long as possible, to prevent them from taking the offensive except on small scales. If we succeed, then the Kingdom wins the race to see who can launch a sweeping, full-scale offensive against an unprepared enemy first.”

“Correct, sir. And the same holds for the city of Pariskeet in the north,” he said, pointing with a talon at the surrounded provincial capital, nodding at the mage to update the map once more.

“As you can see, the Cloven have swept steadily east across the low country of Gauleon, where there is little in the way of natural obstacles or enough legions to stop them. Thus, they have succeeded in surrounding the provincial capital, and at this point, they are in fact even further behind enemy lines than we are,” he noted.

“Though they have significantly more defenders, they also have a far greater and more immediate threat as the armies of multiple Overlords operate against them. And though you may notice there is an open area not far to our south, we cannot use it to escape. The remnants of retreating western legions threw up a series of indiscriminate field enchantments to discourage both dragon and Cloven pursuit. And by the time the enchantments fade, the Cloven will have overrun the area.”

“I see. And where are those legions going?” Gilda then asked.

“They will fall back on the Falcine mountains and be added to the defense of the Capital. Further north, we will be ceding all of Gauleon to them in order to form an impenetrable defensive line, based on the backbone of the Falcine range in the south and the broad Rhenus River to the north,” he then said with yet another nod at the magus, who caused a series of double-line formations to rise up out of the sand on the indicated points, spanning almost the entirety of the continent.

“As Queen Molyneux refuses to leave, Arnau will be a part of that defense. We must hold that line, or the Capital itself could fall.”

While everycreature was studying the map, Imlay cleared his throat, waiting until all eyes were on him before speaking. “I apologize for interrupting, sub-Tribune. But with due respect, the proposed line looks untenable. It’s already been flanked from both the north and south, given Cloven forces landed behind it on both coasts. So how can it possibly be held?” he then asked, to which the feathers of Centurion Fillius ruffled again.

He looked ready to snap at Imlay, at least until Gilda cut him off. “The Corporal is correct, Centurion. I don’t see how we can hold a line that already has significant forces sweeping in behind it.”

“With respect, sub-Tribune, I was just getting to that,” he told her in visibly strained patience, though at Gilda’s narrowed eyes, he quickly forced his voice to be calm again. “Though we cannot launch a general counteroffensive yet, we can launch local ones. To that end, the Kingdom is massing sufficient forces to clean out all the Cloven concentrations to the rear, including the north and south ends of the line,” he said, and this time, the Magus updated the map of her own volition to show a series of arrows appearing to indicate planned attacks against the Cloven pockets.

“Each arrow represents roughly a legion’s worth of soldiers and often one or more airship groups. As these attacks are already underway, it is expected that the southern end of the line will be secure within one day. But the northern end may require three, given we will need more troops to defend the coastline from another flanking maneuver.”

“I see,” Gilda noted, then her eyes roamed to the north across the narrow straits, towards Spandinavia. “And what about the Harpies? Have they been hit? They have large fleets of fast and well-armed airships. Would they be willing to help?” she wondered aloud, though on the face of it, she doubted the fiercely independent avian pirate clans would do anything except guard their own territory.

“We don’t know,” another eagless Talon aide she didn’t recognize—this one an Optio—said in some disgust. “At last report, we were trying to contact them across the Saltic Sea to warn them, but so far, they haven’t answered, and we don’t have much time or effort to spare for them right now. The best we can probably hope for is that they raid the Cloven on their own. And that our own forces don’t get caught in the crossfire.”

“We also have no contact with the Zebrican Confederation. We know their northern shoreline was invaded in at least two places, but nothing else after their communications were cut. At least there’s not much the Cloven can do in that direction, given the Zebrican interior is the vast and impassable Sarharean Desert,” the ranking Knight representative, a sky griffon eagless Optio, noted.

“They can only move along the coastline, so the Zebras further south should have plenty of time to prepare. Unfortunately, that works both ways—with the bulk of their forces south of the desert, they won’t be able to help us much, either.”

“A pity,” the city’s ranking Paladin Centurion said. “Zebrican alchemy could be of great help here. At least unlike Pariskeet, we’re no longer under immediate threat thanks to our forces killing the Overlord threatening Aricia.”

“We didn’t kill it. The Changelings did,” Gilda corrected him with a bared throat at Archon Skorpius, who returned the gesture.

“On behalf of our Hive and Queen, thank you, sub-Tribune. Unfortunately, the current lack of forces opposing us is a situation that will not last,” the large drone replied. “We can sense the presence of a new nearby Overlord plus at least two additional ones approaching the area, along with their respective armies.”

“Sense them?” Fillius echoed dubiously.

“Yes. We can detect them at a distance, for the simple reason that we are always alert to the presence of rival queens and hives encroaching on our territory—which the Cloven arguably are,” the Archon said, then noticed all the questioning gazes on him.

“For those unaware, the Cloven were created by devolving and corrupting captured changelings through some very black magic some fifteen centuries ago—and no, we do not know who was responsible, but given there was a great war between Equestria and the Crystal Empire happening at the time, King Sombra seems a likely guess,” he mused.

“But regardless of their origin, they are still similar enough to us that we can sense their presence and count how many ‘hives’ they have. Each overlord has its own mental magic signature, and thus, we are certain that at least two new ones are approaching the area in addition to the one already present. But judging by the strength of its mental ‘voice’, that one seems weak and to have only limited forces to work with—at least for now.”

“I see. And can you tell exactly where they are? Or how soon before they attack?” Giraldi asked, to which the large drone could only shake his head.

“Unfortunately, no. We can sense their telepathic emissions, certainly, but only the very rough direction and distance they would be in. As they would be well-protected, it would be a very bad idea to try to target them based on such vague intelligence, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he anticipated the thought before either Giraldi or Gilda could voice it.

“As to the question of timing, it all depends on how much force they can project and how quickly. I expect they would wish to mount continuous strikes in order to keep pressure on the city. But as Aricia has proven that it can resist all but the most overwhelming and determined attacks, I would also expect that they know such efforts would be futile without far more available force. They would therefore wish to establish their own supporting ‘clusters’, as you call them, first.”

“Unfortunately, they already have,” Filllius spoke up, shifting to another map, and this time, the Magus, after glancing over to see what map he was looking at, changed the table display to focus on Aricia and its surroundings out to what Gilda guessed was thirty leagues distance.

“As they have not been needed to deal with further attacks, the Ravens have been reconnoitering the area. They found a series of new Cloven Clusters that were established before we could initiate proper scorching protocols. But with the defeat of the area’s Overlord, we were at least able to burn down the nearest steadholts and farms outside of the city walls,” Fillius began, at which point the map again shifted to show the central sands around Aricia taking on a darker hue, with a series of outlying steadholts marked as destroyed.

“Burn down?” a startled Imlay asked as he stared at the map in dismay. “Why would you burn down steadholts when there could be survivors or food supplies inside them?”

“Scorching protocols were laid down after our first fight with the Cloven,” Giraldi explained patiently before a glaring Fillius could say anything. “Though we learned it is a somewhat less efficient process for them than recycling the dead, they can also absorb sustenance from soil or plants and use them as food for their factories. Steadholts tend to be their primary targets to set up clusters, which are basically a set of smaller, mutually supporting bases that can produce a small but steady stream of new Cloven.”

He waited until the Corporal nodded his understanding before continuing. “Thus, to help starve them of resources and the ready-made redoubt that steadholts provide, we burn down crops and salt the soil around them, which prevents their use by poisoning the food for their factories. When possible, we also toxify the wells.”

Imlay nodded but frowned at the same time. “That’s… a little self-destructive. But I think I understand.”

“There’s still plenty of intact farms safely inside the city walls, Corporal. I’m sure we can get some food from them,” Gilda recalled from her earlier rotation. “Still, I’m not so sure that scorching is the right course of action this time. Decurion Gletscher and I witnessed crops that had been clearly burned by corrupted dragons. At the time, I figured it was so they could try to starve the Kingdom out this winter.”

Her words earned a round of silence. “That is not good news,” Miles Fortuna said quietly. “If they’re doing that, it’s because they don’t think they’ll need those resources, likely because they already possess sufficient soldiers. Or worse, enough corrupted corpses they can send into battle and later recycle after conquering large tracts of land like the Ibearian peninsula. If so, then Ancestors know they’ll likely try to drown us in an army of corrupted in just a few days’ time.”

“A nightmare scenario. But I think it unlikely,” Karin Kazal replied, though his voice remained subdued. “I see little chance that those killed or corrupted so far away would be able to make it this far without their mutilated and quickly decomposing host bodies falling apart along the way. Corrupted creatures are good for local reinforcements, but not much more. No, Senior Scimitar, I think it far more likely that they’ll simply march them right into their factories for recycling into pure soldier forms, who will have no such weaknesses and can travel vast distances without food or rest.”

“I agree, Starshina. Which means we might have a week or so more before such an army arrives in force, as it will take time to both grow it in their factories and then march it this far,” Gilda completed the thought. “And such factories would be far out of reach. There’d be no chance of destroying them like the one at Harness. But what about the ones here?” she then wondered aloud.

“I was just getting to that, sir,” Fillius sounded annoyed at the constant interruptions. “May I continue?”

“Yes,” Gilda replied calmly, then pinned him with an annoyed stare of her own. “But I would suggest you take a little less offense at the debate and discussions, Centurion. That’s what we’re here for, after all.”

“Yes, sir.” He nodded and took a slow breath. “As I was saying, the Ravens have identified fresh Clusters centered around Lake Languid, as well as the towns of Garnet and Bale,” he said, waiting until a series of sand circles appeared on the map table, which were in groups of three or four that formed a loose triangle shape around Aricia.

“Most appear to still be under construction and do not yet have active factories. But these three—”, he pointed towards the three Clusters at Garnet, “—are already steadily producing Cloven soldiers. The two facing east are growing parasites or flyers, respectively, while the larger one in front is turning out various trooper types.”

“Then you’re saying that each of those bases is only producing one type of pure Cloven? That seems odd. Their big factory at Harness was producing all types of soldiers,” Gilda recalled.

“That base was far bigger,” a Nauticalia Optio—or whatever the Naval equivalent rank was; Gilda didn’t know offwing—replied. “And with the help of the dragons and the Cloven distraction with the humans at Lake Languid, we destroyed it easily with our airships. Either it takes more time to make such a big base, or they now think they’re vulnerable to airship attack and are thus breaking them up.”

“I think it more likely the latter, given how they’re dispersing their clusters right now,” Giraldi reasoned. “They do not think they can defend them properly with their current numbers. Do we have any intelligence of our own on where the current area Overlord is?”

“As the clusters at Bale were the largest, best defended and too dangerous for the Ravens to approach closely, we believe it may be concealing an Overlord leading the Cloven in this area,” he tapped a talon into the sand at the cluster in the middle of the four. “But we have no firm intelligence on that.”

“Archon Skorpius?” Gilda prompted.

He closed his eyes in concentration for a moment before shaking his head. “The larger numbers and greater defense there would seem to be a ruse designed to distract our attention, as that is not the direction we sense the Overlord in,” the large blue-barded drone noted. “It is in the vicinity of Lake Languid. But from here, we cannot ‘nail down’ its location to anything more than a circle of roughly six or seven leagues.” He ignited his horn to project a thin beam that made a wide circle around the area of the Lake Languid clusters.

“That’s too large an area to target. Is there any way your drones could get close enough to pinpoint its position, Archon?” Gilda asked Skorpius.

“Possibly…” he said cautiously. “But without going into too many specifics, we would have to be very careful. We can sense them, but they can sense us, too. The old Overlord was unaware of our presence, but now that they know we’re here, they would be alert for any approaching drones. And therefore, the only way it could work…” His voice trailed off.

“What, Changeling?” Fillius prompted impatiently, earning a glare from Gilda at the disrespectful lack of title.

“It’s Archon, Centurion.” Despite the correction, Skorpius sounded unperturbed. “It is the telepathic magic of the Queen or Overlord that we Changelings can sense. So, for a Changeling to approach what amounts to a rival hive undetected, a drone would have to temporarily cut their ties to the hivemind maintained by our Queen.” He sounded troubled. “That can be traumatic, especially for younger drones who have never known anything but the Queen’s constant presence.”

“Then you’re saying it can’t be done?” Gilda prompted, to which the large drone shook his head.

“Not at all, sub-Tribune. There are times we must do so to protect ourselves or conduct operations in potentially hostile territory, and this is one of them. I am experienced with cutting ties to my Hive and Queen, as I have had to while far away from the Kingdom performing my duties as Prime Pike. Therefore, I will conduct the reconnaissance,” he announced, standing up straighter. “And fear not—if the worst should happen and I fall prey to the Cloven, I will destroy my mind. By the Gryphon Ancestors and our Hive Mother herself, they will not be able to use me against either my Queen or yours.”

The room fell silent as Gilda could only bear her throat at him in gratitude. “Your bravery does you and your hive great credit, Archon Skorpius.” Giraldi saluted him as he spoke. “But please do return alive. You are not only a magnificent fighter, but I rather enjoyed what I saw of you and Archon Archex last night.” He raised an eyeridge at the other male.

Skorpius smiled slyly back. “As I have a bet to win with Archon Archex and am not about to let him be victorious by default? Count on it, Optio.” He left it there, as did Giraldi, though it was all Gilda could do to stifle a blush. Looking around, she noticed Miles Fortuna and Karin Kazal exchanging a furtive look with an element of color in the latter’s cheeks; even Obsidian Ire suddenly had a distant expression.

Feeling her own memories start to drift, Gilda suddenly shook her head hard. This is NOT the time! Clearing her throat sharply, she forced everycreature’s attention back to the map table and asked an attendant for a bowl of strong tea with extra lemon and sugar.

Actually, I could sure use some of that Changeling energy brew Marco and I drank yesterday! She resolved to request some for future war council meetings before too long. “Though I agree with the sentiment and that we need that information quickly, I request that you remain here until the briefing is concluded, Archon.” She then addressed Skorpius directly. “We still have to formulate strategies and tactics, and I need Changeling input to do it.”

“By your command,” he answered easily. “As Queen Lepidoptes is listening to these deliberations through me, she has already given me her blessing to attempt this mission. On the condition that I take extreme care.”

The statement earned some fresh ruffled feathers from a few griffons throughout the room, most notably from Centurion Fillius. “With all due respect, sub-Tribune, these are supposed to be confidential discussions about sensitive military matters! They are not to be eavesdropped on by those outside of this room or shared with foreign leaders! It is not only a potential security breach, but it smacks of spying. So I again ask that all non-griffons be removed from this room!”

Skorpius replied before an equally annoyed Gilda could. “Sharing information with our Queen and Hive is automatic. It is who we are and in large part how we survive as a species, Centurion,” for the first time, the large drone sounded insulted.

“Even were it otherwise, as the Kingdom’s ally, she has a right to know what is said and happens here! We have been loyal to the Kingdom for the past seven centuries, living among you and even saving your entire nation once or twice over that time. So be warned that if you keep insinuating that we are disloyal spies, I might see fit to demand a duel.” He transformed himself into his Prime Pike persona, flaring his wings and ruffling his feathers like an angry griffon.

“Enough!” Gilda flared her own wings in ire. “Archon Skorpius is correct, Centurion. The Queen has every right to be part of these deliberations, as it is her Hive and drones that are risking their lives alongside us! She is also a skilled military leader in her own right. Even the Tribune recognizes that fact,” she said shortly, suddenly very aware of the secret order he’d written that she’d hidden in an interior pocket of her armor.

When the equally angry Centurion started to snarl a reply, Gilda cut him off with a sharp trill. “And if that is not sufficient, I remind everyone here that I wield authority as not just a sub-Tribune, but Diplomatic Liaison!” she raised her chin to show off her iron command chain. “By my order, you will not insult our allies or question their motives again. Do so, and crows know that a duel will be the least of your concerns. Is that clear, Centurion Fillius?” She pinned him with her fiercest glare.

With effort, the Centurion held onto his visibly roiled temper. “Clear, sir.”

Gilda held her stare for a few seconds more, noting pink gathering at the rims of her vision again. “By all the Crows of the Kingdom, it better be. You have come far from First Spear in the past few years, Centurion. I would hate to take all that away from you.” She let the threat of demotion hang in the air for a moment before relenting, briefly noting Giraldi smiling off to the side at what she guessed was her emphatic assertion of authority.

She caught his gaze briefly, to which he gave her a subtle but approving nod. If I have his support, that’s all I need. And best of all, he still doesn’t know that he’s going to be promoted! She let the thought of his future reaction to the news—she was planning to promote him publicly in front of her new forces—help cool her emotions, wondering idly if Fortrakt was ready for a higher rank as well.

Probably not yet, given he got a bit too full of himself this morning by challenging that Paladin. Though come to think of it, he’s got a sharp mind and good Talonwriting. So maybe he’d make a good adjutant? Or would he prefer to command a sky griffon Turma like I’d originally planned? Questions for later… she decided as a bowl of steaming tea was delivered on a platter to her along with separate containers of sugar and a halved lemon; she had no doubt the former was imported from Equestria while the latter came from Southern farms.

“Back to business again. So are the other clusters on the map not producing new soldiers yet?” she asked as she squeezed the lemon into the steaming bowl.

“Not as of two hours ago,” Miles Fortuna answered. “A Raven team under Shadow Decurion Ebon Umbreon checked the ones at Lake Languid. They’re lightly guarded and have various Cloven types swarming over them, slowly building them up like whipwasp nests. But they’re not ready yet, and probably won’t be before tomorrow at the earliest,” she recited, causing Gilda to blink to hear the name of Ebon Umbreon mentioned.

“As best we know from documentation left behind by the earlier war, it takes a full day for a Cloven factory to grow a new trooper—assuming they have sufficient resources, that is. But given how quickly they were able to replenish their losses over Lake Languid, it’s probably only a few hours for flyers. Maybe even less for parasites, given how small and simple they are,” the Senior Scimitar guessed. “Give them just a few days and they could probably start mounting harassment attacks against the city again. So, I would suggest we hit them soon.”

“Even if you’re correct, ‘hitting them’ would be folly,” Fillius retorted. “We would have to fly too far outside the city walls, and we know not what other forces they may have in the vicinity. Any attacking force could quickly be ambushed, cut off and killed.”

Gilda held up a wing to forestall further debate, her mind lingering on the fact that the Shadow Decurion was not only fine and fully healed, but even conducting missions again. I’ll need to tell Lance Corporal Henderson about that. I’m sure she’d want to know he’s okay! “We’re getting ahead of ourselves in planning attacks. There’s still a lot of questions to be answered first. Not the least of which is: how sure are we that there won’t be any other Cloven forces outside of these Clusters?”

“Not very. So as much as it pains me to say it, the Centurion may be correct,” the Senior Scimitar granted somewhat grudgingly. “These new clusters seem almost too exposed right now, so it’s quite possible they’re a form of bait. As we know they’ve been using Diamond Dogs, they could have underground marshal areas nearby that we’re not aware of. If so, they could spring a trap on any invading force.”

“We can detect those as well,” Skorpius said. “It will require a more concerted effort of the hive to map them, however. And if there are too many, simply knowing about them wouldn’t be enough. It would still preclude an easy attack.”

“Unless we bring the roof down on their heads.” A restored Obsidian Ire grinned toothfully, her teeth glittering with blue gem dust from the sapphire she’d just eaten. “I’m sure a few dragonfire-boosted explosive gems could do the job.”

“Perhaps, but first we would have to find their tunnels, drakina,” Miles Fortuna said gently. “And all this assumes they actually exist.”

“Ancestors, I hope not,” Another newly promoted Centurion muttered.

“I’m sorry, Centurion Varinius?” Gilda knew him as well, but he’d been Decurion Varinius when she’d last been in Aricia, commanding her Turma for six months before a fresh rotation took him away. When she spoke, he immediately stiffened and saluted, stepping forward.

“Sir, we may be jumping to incorrect conclusions. In my view, any excess Cloven forces should still be pushing east, busy fighting the remnants of the Western Legions to keep up pressure on our retreating forces and continue the advance. They haven’t left significant numbers opposing us because they know that there’s nowhere we can go. What’s left is only here to keep an eye on us until additional Cloven armies and Overlords move up.”

Gilda opened her beak to speak, but then shut it again. Her first reaction was to think that was wishful thinking, pretty much leaning on hope. But she also didn’t want to appear defeatist or demoralize Aricia’s defenders, especially when anything she could offer in rebuttal would be little more than idle speculation.

Crows take it. Maybe he’s right, though. Maybe fortune will finally be on our side, and any remaining Cloven formations are too busy pursuing the remnants of our legions to bother with us, since we’re surrounded and too far away from friendly lines to flee.

“Possible, but that determination will have to wait for further Changeling and Raven reconnaissance. For now, we have more immediate questions to consider. As we now have a full picture of what both we and the Kingdom face, it’s time for the second and most important stage of this discussion—tactics and strategy,” she announced, waiting until she received the nods of all present.

“The Tribune will be waiting to receive our recommendations when he returns from meeting the Queen. And the first recommendation he will want is very simple: how do we harden the city’s defenses in whatever time we have before major Cloven reinforcements arrive…?”