Feathered Hearts - Continuation and Chronicles

Gilda took a deep breath as she stared at the map table again, its sands now fixed into an image of Aricia and its surroundings from well overhead. She felt her anxiety start to surge again as she announced the second and most important stage of the meeting, knowing that her new rank and authority were about to face their sternest test.

Ancestors, please let me be equal to the challenge! She offered up a brief prayer, trying to carefully school her features even as she opened her beak to speak. “Very well. 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.

When they looked at her expectantly instead of replying or offering any opinions of their own, she realized it was again up to her to guide the discussion and demonstrate her own competence of command in doing so. “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?”

“First and foremost, we have to regroup and refill our ranks,” Fillius replied when nocreature else did. He nodded to an eagless Knight wearing brand new armor and Optio insignia beside him, who passed him a rolled parchment.

“We were understrength to begin with, having had nearly a third of our Auxilia legion and most of our attached Magus Knights transferred to the Ibexian border. The initial Cloven attacks then cost us many of our existing officers and soldiers, reducing the garrison to well under half-strength—it was only by the grace of the Ancestors and the assistance of the dragons that we held off the initial attacks,” he further explained with a bared throat at Obsidian Ire, who returned the gesture, with Gilda noting that she finally looked calm and composed again as she leaned back against the wall.

“But we received reinforcements from Knights, Talons and even Nautica who fled neighboring bases,” Gilda noted. “Were they enough to make good our losses?”

“Technically, yes. But…” Fillius trailed off uncertainly. “But forced to flee from their own bases in severe disorder, they often lack organization and officers. And many suffered wounds en route. As a result, our healer houses remain packed, and even when fit for duty again, they will need to be reassigned to fresh units. This currently leaves us around two millennia of effectives, with just over half being Auxilia. But with rapid reorganization, those numbers could be doubled over the next few days.”

“They will have to be,” Gilda said simply. “How many Knights do we have?”

“Counting first day losses around Lake Languid, somewhat less than a cohort’s worth, with only two centuries currently fit for combat,” the eagless Knight Optio replied somewhat tersely, causing Gilda to wince.

“And though we have replenished our Magus ranks somewhat from the city’s populace, most available mages are older civilians pressed into military service,” she further noted, causing Gilda to guess that was another reason why the Tribune’s wife was now assisting him in her guise of Magus. “They are effective at healing, but battle is another matter. Most will need extensive if hasty training to be of use against the Cloven.”

“I believe we can help in that regard,” Archon Skorpius spoke up. “As Changelings, we are very good at mental magic, including the sharing of information within our hive. As such, we have means of rapidly imparting knowledge to our drones, and as I believe you learned last night, that ability can be extended to other beings as well at the Queen’s discretion,” he reminded Gilda with an arched eyeridge, causing her to flush for a moment before she caught herself.

“And if you’re not comfortable with that, there are Ibex spells that can do the job as well,” Karin Kazal added to the uneasy looks he saw, both on the faces of Gilda and the griffons around her reacting in distaste to such a suggestion.

“But then again, there are only three of us, and that spell can only impart knowledge to one or two other beings at a time. I would further note that simply learning a spell doesn’t mean you’re automatically good at it. A mage must still practice with it to be proficient. Must survive combat at least once or twice to become effective at using magic in battle.”

Gilda nodded her agreement. “Then establishing that effectiveness is our top priority. By my order, and if Queen Lepidoptes is willing, I want to send civilian mages in groups to the Changelings to receive training and instruction,” she decided, then realized: “You can teach them griffon spellcasting rather than your own, correct?”

“We can indeed,” the large drone said, then winked at Gilda before he transformed again with a flare of green fire to flinches from the crowd. When the flames had cleared, she saw that he had taken the form of a sky griffon Magus Knight Decurion; even materializing a stave that he twirled once to produce a shield and some arcing electrical sparks around it in what Gilda knew to be a standard Magus defensive spell.

Then he’s got a SECOND griffon persona? she realized somewhat wanly as he dissipated the display and then took an upright pose, slamming his staff down on the stone floor with a loud thump. He then held it before him like a sword in a vertical salute towards her, waiting until she returned the honor before dropping it and sitting back on his caracal haunches.

“As you can plainly see, we also have drones who take the forms of Magus Knights in our ranks—the sub-Tribune may recall that we used some of them at Lake Languid. Be assured that we can teach all forms of griffon magical combat to civilian mages at your discretion.”

“So I see…” This time, it was a slightly awed Giraldi who spoke from beside Gilda, staring at the other male in intense interest. “I am impressed, Archon Skorpius. You are as accomplished a griffon soldier as you are enticing a Changeling Archon,” he told the other male with a slightly longing look, who grinned and bared his falcon-feathered throat.

“Why thank you, Optio. I consider that a high compliment indeed, coming from a griffon warrior as equally accomplished and virile as yourself,” he rejoined with an openly flirtatious wink. “And as I sense your interest, know that I’m not as much into males as Archon Archex is, but I can be… persuaded by the right partner or circumstance,” he said suggestively, accenting his words by releasing what Gilda instantly sensed to be a small amount of allure into the air, which he wafted over to Giraldi without affecting anyone else.

“Truly?” Giraldi said half-hopefully, ignoring the disbelieving looks settling on him as his wings began to openly stiffen.

“Truly,” the other male confirmed. “Feel free to seek me out when I return from my reconnaissance mission, Optio. For I will very likely be in need of fresh love by then.”

“Excuse me,” the Knight eagless spoke up before an only mildly amused Gilda could. “Sorry to break up this wing-rubbing party, but with due respect, sub-Tribune, I am not comfortable working with or sending our civilians to these… creatures. If they are simply a more evolved form of the Cloven, then who is to say that they will not corrupt or co-opt them, turning them into mere adjuncts of their hive who will later act against Queen and Kingdom?” she asked in audible contempt, to which Archon Skorpius looked over at her sharply, his manner instantly turning from openly enticing to ice-cold.

“Because to say that we are anything like the Cloven is insulting, Optio. It would be like calling you a goshawk instead of a griffon,” he replied with a dig at her plumage, earning a pair of narrowed orange eyes as he went on.

“Because regardless of how good at seduction we are, we cannot turn individuals of any race against their hearts and duty. Because even if we were so inclined, our numbers are nowhere near enough to overcome you, and because we do not wishto rule you. Only exist alongside you,” the male drone told her in annoyance, reverting his transformation with another flare of green fire.

“Not now, perhaps. But what about later, shapeshifter?” she challenged. “Will you take advantage of the Kingdom's weakened state and your acquired goodwill after the Cloven are vanquished to conquer us from within?”

Despite her accusing tone, the Archon answered evenly. “Neither now nor later. We know from long and bitter experience that Changeling hives that turn aggressive towards their parent societies never last long. For said society then becomes aware of them and turns very hostile, treating them—quite rightly—as an infestation to be expunged. Just ask Queen Chrysalis and every single hive she hurt by attempting to conquer Equestria,” he noted in visible anger, though Gilda wasn’t sure if it was more directed at the eagless Optio or the rival Changeling ruler.

“Or as your hive did when you betrayed the Gryphon Empire,” the eagless retorted, to which the Archon’s head shot up. “You did it once. So why not again?”

This time, Skorpius took strong offense, buzzing his insectile wings hard to produce a harsh sound. “That was the Empire, not the Kingdom! And by the Hive Mother herself, we had to! The Empire was about to wage what we feared would become a war of extermination against Equestria! And never mind the unjustness of the Empire’s actions, without the love supplied to our kind by the ponies, we feared our entire race could perish!”

“Enough,” Gilda broke in, surprised her voice sounded so calm even as she internally seethed at the disrespect shown to Queen Lepidoptes and her hive. But even though she was tempted to lose her temper and even started to see pink over it, she swallowed the explosion that badly wanted to burst from her, deciding that it was unbecoming of a commander. That even if it was at least briefly satisfying to her, her new subordinates would probably look upon her with less respect as a result.

Wow. Here I am restraining myself? Wish Rainbow could see me now… the thought crossed her mind briefly, wondering again what her old friend was doing with the entire world now facing war. “We are not here to argue about events long past, or accuse each other of treachery based on the flimsiest of reasons. We are here to plan the city’s defense and figure out how best to work together,” she reminded them all.

“So by my order, Optio, you will not slander the Changelings or Queen Lepidoptes again. As you are insulting an ally that has been welcomed into our fold by no less than Queen Molyneux herself, I will not hesitate to reduce your rank if you do so,” she warned her directly, ruffling her feathers and holding her glare until the Wind Knight Optio fell silent with a clenched beak and looked away.

Gilda then raised her head and voice to address the entire room. “And the same holds for all of you—whether human, Changeling or ibex, our allies are to be shown due respect! In any event, I can speak from experience that Changeling mental magic is the most efficient means we have to impart knowledge. We would be fools not to make use of their talents, so I will be recommending to the Tribune that we take the Archon’s suggestion. Though as the Starshina reminds us, simply knowing a spell doesn’t make you proficient in its use,” she then recalled, reflecting that Imlay had said much the same things previously about human cannons.

“After that, it will fall to regular military mages to put them through intensive battle training. And upon reflection, I think that role would be best served by you and your ‘comrades’, Karin Kazal.She made a point of using his race’s preferred term as he looked over at her. “Since we need combat-experienced instructors who are familiar with both fighting the Cloven and griffon spellcasting, I will put you in charge of their training. So don’t you dare go easy on them, Starshina. Otherwise, we could face more lost lives and battles.”

“By your command, sub-Tribune,” he replied with the standard griffon acknowledgement of an order accompanied by a tilt-headed salute and a broad grin, looking to Gilda like he relished the opportunity. “That will be an immense pleasure.”

“The Tribune will have to approve that, too,” Centurion Fillius reminded Gilda carefully. “And with no offense intended to our honored guests, he might look less than kindly on having formally mortal enemies train our soldiers.”

“That is his prerogative,” she replied, biting her tongue to keep from snarling at him with her mood still sour, though she was able to restrain herself by realizing that he hadn’t actually run afoul of her new rules regarding speaking ill of allies. “But we will still suggest it. Add using the Changeling and Ibex as Magus trainers to our list of recommendations,” she then told the Auxiliaris Optio taking notes. She nodded but looked slightly harried as she struggled to keep up with the conversation, making Gilda wish it was the far more practiced pen of Rubens Virgo there instead.

By the Ancestors, I hope the Tribune and Optio are having a much better time than me right now! Gilda found herself wondering again how the Queen would deal with the Tribune’s less-than-polite wife, leaving her wondering in turn if she was still going to end up dueling the other eagless after the War Council meeting was done.

And if so, how by all the Crows of the Kingdom am I supposed to defeat a veteran Magus Knight in single combat? I promised that she wouldn’t be the victor, but there’s no way I can beat her unless I can find some way to prevent her use of magic… She only mulled the question briefly before returning her focus back to the meeting.

“Very well. That is a relatively minor point of rank replenishment dealt with. I would also suggest shuffling Magus pairs to have an existing military mage paired with a civilian one, so that the veteran mage can help protect and train the other while they gain experience,” she further decided, and this time, her words were greeted with nods instead of objections. “But the Magus are relatively few compared to our infantry. So with regards to reorganizing the Talons and Knights we recovered from outside the city, what is the most efficient manner of doing that?”

“I recommend we leave that to the respective service heads,” the representative of the Talon contingent suggested; Gilda still hadn’t heard his name spoken. “As much as possible, we deploy them as discrete units and give them separate areas of responsibility.”

“I disagree,” Giraldi spoke up. “Ignoring the fact that this is not the time for the service branches to remain insular, there are simply not enough senior officers left of the Talons or Knights to properly manage their own affairs. In contrast, the organization of the Auxiliary Guard Legion based in Aricia remains more or less intact, with sufficient senior staff still available for duty. The very fact that we have qualified replacements for slain sub-Tribunes speaks well to that. Therefore, reorganization should be done under Auxiliaris auspices, fleshing out the legion with Talon replacements.”

His words earned a sullen look from the Talon Centurion paired with an insulted one from the eagless Knight Optio. “The Guard does not command the Talons, let alone the Knights,” she reminded him.

“Nor the Paladins,” their previously silent green-armored tiercel Optio representative added slightly sullenly.

“By virtue of his gold command chain, Tribune Cipio commands both Talons and Knights,” Gilda instantly reminded them, finding her annoyance with the other eagless growing. “And by virtue of my diplomatic command chain, I can command the Paladins. That aside, your point about the Knights and Talons not having sufficient officers is well-taken, Optio Giraldi. And we can’t just elevate junior officers to positions of leadership they’re in no way ready for, especially when there is no time to train them,” she further noted, keeping the thought to herself that she was such a junior officer, promoted well beyond her years or experience due to what amounted to little more than happenstance and combat losses.

Judging by the looks she received, she realized that many of the council members were likely thinking the same thing. Well, you can’t really blame them, now can you, Grizelda Behertz? “I agree with you, Optio Giraldi. The quickest way to restore our combat strength is to flesh out depleted Auxilia centuries with Talons. Their infusion into the ranks should also help increase the effectiveness of Guard units. But as for the Knights and Nautica…” Gilda drummed her talons on the edge of the table as she considered the question.

She then turned to the eagless Optio. “As you said we only had two centuries of Knights available currently, and perhaps double that when the wounded recover? It would be a waste to just add them to existing units, spreading their strength out too thin when their best use is as a striking hammer. So we’ll keep them and the airships separate to use as a rapid-reaction force, calling on them to spearhead critical attacks or reinforce threatened areas,” she decided, nodding slowly to herself. “Any objections?”

“None,” the Knight Optio said simply, though Gilda noted she was still visibly smoldering from the earlier exchange. “We will still need to assign new Centurions and seconds, though. There is also no overarching commander, nor staff available.”

“As the senior surviving Knight officer, that will be your responsibility,” Gilda told her. “Draw up a list of replacement officers for a cohort-sized unit. If officers are not available, use the most experienced enlisted griffons. And have we already done the same for the Auxilia garrison?” she then asked.

“Mostly,” the response came back from Fillius. “The initial wave of assassination attacks targeted senior staff, and regrettably met with some significant success. So I suggest we temporarily assign the following newly promoted centurions as acting sub-Tribunes for Logistica, Tactica, Auxilia, and Medica.”

“No Knight Tribune, or one for Strategica?” Gilda asked after she had unrolled and scanned the document, surprised to find a few familiar names in it.

“No, sir. Even before the invasion, the garrison didn’t have any Knights assigned outside of two Magus decades. Our previous contingent, consisting of a single combined cohort, had already been pulled east towards the Pearl Mountains along with a millennium and a half of Auxilia. As for the Strategica…”

He hesitated briefly before speaking his next words. “Well, sir… please don’t see this as defeatist, but in my view, there’s no need for any long-term strategies. Because if reinforcements don’t arrive before the next full moon rises, it’s very unlikely the city will still be standing. Or any of us left alive.”

Despite the dire prediction, Gilda didn’t correct him and neither did anycreature else. “As the next full moon is twelve days away and we have at least two more Cloven Overlords with their accompanying armies on the way, I can’t argue with that. No Strategica needed.” She nodded as she continued to read the parchment, her eyes settling on the first new name off it she recognized. “Centurion Mercator Aelia?”

The eagless that passed the parchment to Fillius straightened. “Yes, sir?”

Gilda studied her for a moment, finding her appearance somewhat different than what she remembered, and not just because of her greater amount of armor. Her forest cat hindquarters seemed a bit plumper than what Gilda recalled, and there was also what might have been a bulge in her belly.

Doesn’t look like she’s been keeping herself in shape. I’m guessing the reason is that she’s a mother now, and she might just be pregnant for a second time… But not wanting to make potentially insulting assumptions, Gilda didn’t voice them.

“Congratulations on your promotions. Last I knew, you were just a Second Spear. If I remember correctly, your father is a tradesgriffon? Works closely with the Gletscher company on overseas imports?” She dimly recalled Fortrakt mentioning her clan once in context of his sire’s business dealings.

“Oh! Uh, yes, sir,” Aelia replied, though she looked momentarily startled by the question. “My experience with running part of my mother’s business means I am good with keeping supplies moving. I have thus been recalled to active duty and assigned to the Logistica.”

“As you should be,” Gilda nodded. Recalled? Then she was on maternity leave, and is now pregnant with a second set of cubs… she silently cataloged, trying not to wonder if they would ever see their birth.

“I’ll second the recommendation. And that you work closely with the Tribune’s adjutant to keep supplies flowing from the food depots and armories. But as that’s a lot for a single griffon to deal with, I’ll also recommend that you be assigned at least two aides, one military and one civilian, to help you with your duties.”

“By your command.” Aelia said with a nod and salute. “Sir, with the help of the Tribune’s new adjutant, I have already compiled a summary of our current supply situation.”

“Let’s see it,” Gilda invited, returning the honor.

Receiving another rolled parchment, she immediately opened it to read. It was an enumeration of supplies, as well as the number of civilian workers available, whether blackbirds or farmers. There was also a helpful summary after each group of related items, including armaments. Though Gilda had been worried that they didn’t have enough weapons for defending Aricia, the document showed that wasn’t the case even if they were still having some trouble disseminating them. However…

“We can’t be that low on food.” Gilda looked up from the document in disbelief.

“Unfortunately, sir, we are,” Aelia replied grimly. “Aricia hadn’t been slacking, but with the unexpected influx of refugees and the losses of our outlying steadholts, the city’s food supply will run out within two weeks. The fact that this invasion was close to harvest doesn’t help either, given food stocks typically run a bit lower this time of year in anticipation of them being refilled by the reaping of crops.”

Gilda frowned, more certain than ever that the Cloven had deliberately timed their attack in part for that reason. “Was the presence of all the additional troops also accounted for here?”

Aelia nodded. “Yes, sir. Though Optio Giraldi informed me earlier that the humans have their own food supplies with them.”

“True, but they’re military rations not really suitable for griffons or ponies. I’m pretty sure you’d like them even less than we do,” Imlay commented with a wan grin. “But you don’t have to worry about feeding us, at least.”

“Understood.” Sighing, Gilda looked back at the list to find that at least the city’s water supplies were adequate. She thanked the Ancestors that Aricia had many productive wells and a river that ran right through the farming areas of the east between the outer and inner walls to provide irrigation.

Soldiers could survive weeks without food. They wouldn’t last days without water, though.

“We can have the city’s interior Caleponian farms harvest their grain and fruit crops a little early,” Aelia said. “However, the quality and quantity of their food would suffer as a result, so I doubt we'd be able to expand our food stores in a way that would be truly beneficial.”

“Every little bit helps,” Gilda said. “In Equestria, earth ponies could use their magic to rush harvests by a few days or even a couple weeks when they needed to, though that tended to exhaust them. Hopefully the Caleponians can do the same thing here. We’ll have to be careful, though. As I understand that they proved very able defenders when the Cloven broke in, we’re going to need as many of them trained for fighting and equipped with armor and weapons as possible.”

“Understood, sir. We’ll speak with the local steadholt masters and independent Caleponian landowners to see what can be done,” the pregnant eagless promised. “I can’t speak to the question of arming them, though.”

“Not your responsibility,” Gilda replied as she returned to reading the parchment, scanning it further until she read out an unfamiliar name. “Centurion Callidus Faustus?”

An older tiercel in snow leopard hindquarters and Southern Kite forequarters stepped up and saluted. “Sir,” he said,with a heavy accent that was common in the Italon Peninsula. Considering how muscled he was, he could have been an earth griffon from a mining community there. In addition, his age was obvious—if she were to guess, he was a decade older than Giraldi—and Gilda hoped that it translated to wisdom.

“I see you are recommended as legion Tactica. I don’t know you, so forgive me for asking: What is your experience?” she inquired cautiously, wondering if she even had the right to ask that question considering how young she was.

“Two tours of duty fighting Ibexian irregulars in the Pearl Mountains and most recently, one in the Cheetahean peninsula. I was Tactica to acohort during my time with the latter and my unit successfully repulsed several Ibexian incursions without Talon help,” he said with a glance over at Karin Kazal, who frowned.

“Oh, really? Where and when?” the buck challenged, to which the tiercel gave him a cool look.

To Gilda’s surprise, he answered the other male in fluent Ibex. And to her further surprise, she understood every word. “During the raids on the eastern end of the peninsula five years ago, when you tried to cut the Perch strait’s supply lines by infiltrating irregulars from the Ebon Ocean through Catta Bay as a possible prelude to invasion. But we spotted the warning signs and were ready for you. And then bloodily repulsed you.”

“Indeed you did. In that case, there is no doubt that he will make an excellent tactician, sub-Tribune,” the startled Starshina replied in Aeric, speaking in a slightly disgusted tone.

“Our ‘irregulars’, as you call them, suffered heavy casualties and we lost two entire teams of Adepts in that debacle of an operation, never mind the retaliatory Raven raids we later suffered against Rutstov. The Capricorn Conclave was badly embarrassed by the failure, and when called to account, claimed that they were undone by alert Guard and Sevastoponian militia units employing unorthodox but surprisingly effective defensive tactics,” he admitted, to which Miles Fortuna gave a satisfied grin.

“Those tactics were mine. So I will take that as a compliment, Starshina.” Centurion Faustus bared his throat at the rival male in a measured manner, still speaking Ibex.

“As well you should,” the buck tilted his antlers back as he likewise replied in his own tongue.

For her part, Gilda had to grin at the exchange. “Very well. As I can think of no greater an endorsement than his, I will recommend you for Tactica as well, Centurion Faustus. And as this meeting is to discuss general tactics, I want you to flesh them out further for the Tribune once we’ve settled on the broad outlines of our proposed strategy. You may be assigned a single aide for the task,” she told him.

“By your command,” he said with a nod and bared throat, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill pen of his own.

“Excellent. We’ll review them before presenting them to the Tribune later,” she replied as she scanned the remaining list. To her surprise, the last two candidates as acting sub-Tribunes for Auxilia and Medica were both newly promoted centurions Gilda had previously known as well.

Varinius, she recalled again, was one of her old century’s Decurions when she was assigned to the South, while the new Medica was an eagless Magus Knight Optio named Floriana she’d last known as a First Stave assigned to her Aricia cohort. Though she’d never met her directly, Gilda remembered her because she had witnessed duels fought by her in which she proved she was just as skilled with a blade as a casting staff.

“Centurion Venicia Floriana,” she addressed the hawk-headed and cheetah-spotted female first, whose hindquarters likely meant her ancestry came from the Cheetahean peninsula. Gilda further recalled that her family had come from a long line of Magus warriors, though they’d also produced one or two mages who concentrated more on the healing arts.

She was a student of both, Gilda remembered, with an intense interest in healing herbs to go along with an exotic magical combat art she’d mastered, as well as being level-headed enough to lead. “I remember you being equally good at combat and casting, wielding the fighting style of an old Archmagus whose name escapes me at the moment. But can you lead and teach it to others?”

“Thank you, sir. I am one of the few mages who has learned the combat arts of the great Archmagus Camilea Aeylyn. And yes, I can, though I regret that the art cannot be easily learned,” Floriana clarified with a bared throat; Gilda noticed that her mention of the name caused Archon Skorpius to look up in surprise. “Though I am new to my rank, be assured I was an excellent Optio who taught classrooms full of both civilian and military Magus. Though I had left the service for a time to raise a family, I, like Centurion Aelia, have answered the call of duty and will serve again as Magus Knight for the duration of this struggle.”

“Superb,” Gilda approved with a satisfied nod, unconsciously echoing former Tribune Narada as she said her next words: “Your devotion to duty and willingness to take on new responsibilities is an inspiration, Centurion. Give your report.”

“By your command.” Floriana passed her a fresh document. “I’m happy to report that our healer houses are now fully operational, and their stores of medical supplies are well-stocked. We also have adequate numbers of apprentice and retired civilian mages to assist us. As per protocol, they are the ones that have yet to learn how to summon elements, so until they are trained, healing duties are where they can do the most good.”

“I see.” Gilda nodded as she scanned the document. Mages were a force multiplier in any battle, but it took a certain skill level before they were Knighted and brought to the battlefield. Having potential mages safe and behind the front lines while giving them training to use their magic was a good investment for the longer-term survival of the city.

“This is very good news. As fewer healers are needed, we’ll send them to the Changelings for a crash course in Magus combat spells. And then as discussed, it will fall to you and your fellow Adepts, Starshina, to teach them proper use of those spells and whip them into fighting shape.” He turned to Karin Kazal next.

“By your command. I have trained neophyte Adepts in the past, though I never thought the day would come that I would teach griffon Mages to fight,” he acknowledged with a wry grin and dip of his antlers.

Gilda gave him a sly grin of her own. “You’re welcome. With the Tribune’s permission, we’ll try to send you two or three classes of students a day. Just try not to terrify them too much, Starshina?” she raised an eyeridge at him, earning a grin in response.

“No promises,” he said in a bantering tone, to which Gilda could only chuckle as she turned back to the newly minted eagless Magus Knight Centurion, who looked suddenly deflated.

“Please do not take this as an insult, Centurion. Though I’m sure you could do the job, making him the trainer will keep you free to run the healer houses and assign newly trained Magi to units as they become available. You are also more than welcome to schedule and run battle and triage drills for your Magi as you see fit, as long as you run them past the Tribune first. Agreeable?” she then prompted, receiving a nod.

“Excellent. And Centurion Oculus Varinius?” She addressed the earth griffon tiercel next, whose mixture of tiger hindquarters and bald eagle plumage likely meant his own ancestry traced back to the eastern Pearlean Steppes.

“Sir?”

“I also recall you from my prior rotation in Aricia as a good warrior and an able commander. Now you need to prove it,” she told him, causing him to sit up straighter. “You are going to have to command Talons as well as Auxilia, integrating them into our existing units as they become available from healer treatment. I will request that the Tribune assign you a silver command chain to grant you official authority over them. But as I expect there’ll still be some objections to you doing so, you might have to fight a few duels before they accept,” she reminded him. “I trust you’ll be up to the challenge?”

“Understood, sir,” he said, coming to attention and saluting. “And yes, I will be.”

“Which brings up another point,” Giraldi spoke up from Gilda’s right. “On the subject of duels, I strongly recommend the Tribune issue an edict forbidding interservice challenges except by his direct authorization. It is corrosive to morale and combat cohesion at a time when both are paramount. As we must work together as gryphons and soldiers rather than Guard or Knight, Paladin or Talon, I think all will agree that this is simply not the time to indulge in duels over wounded service pride.”

His remarks earned a mixture of nods and ruffled feathers. To no surprise of Gilda, one set of the latter belonged to the eagless Wind Knight Optio. “Such folly. Even low ranked Knights are superior to Guard officers. We should never be under Auxilia command.”

Her words caused Gilda’s eyes to narrow at the indirect insult. She was about to berate the other eagless but stopped as Giraldi held up a restraining wing towards her.

He then gave the sky griffon officer a cool look of his own. “If you believe that, then you are more than welcome to challenge me right here and now, Optio. But be advised that I easily defeated a Paladin Prime Pike this morning and can even go wing to wing with the Archon there. If they cannot defeat me, I highly doubt that you can. And the terms of your defeat will be to reduce your rank, as given you have done little but insult and complain, I increasingly believe you are unworthy of it.”

She looked up sharply. “How dare you—”

“He speaks the truth about his combat ability,” Archon Skorpius confirmed. “And on that subject, Queen Lepidoptes does not want duels fought on or near our airship. Concentrated negative emotions can have deleterious effects on our younger drones, and especially our eggs stored below.”

Gilda nodded slowly, using his words and the example of the constant calmness of Queen Lepidoptes to still her own roiled emotions. “It seems like a fair request, if we’re also going to be forbidding other forms of duel. But let’s make it more general—no interservice or interspecies duels. That means especially no challenges of humans or changelings. Make a note of that as well,” she told the eagless orderly who was taking the minutes of the meeting.

“So, we forsake the sacred traditions of our society and military in the name of baring our bellies to a bunch of upright apes and untrustworthy insects who cannot stomach our pride and patriotism? We bend over backwards and abandon our own values, and what do we get out of it in return?” the Optio asked in contempt.

“Aside from providing constant surveillance of Cloven activity, one dead Overlord slain by our Queen herself, and receiving the backing of human firepower that shot down corrupted dragons and annihilated half a Cloven army?” Skorpius asked dryly, stepping towards her, his large wings buzzing angrily with a harsh and slightly painful sound again.

“You are trying my patience, Optio. Be assured that though some of our less mature drones may not be able to deal with intense hate or anger, I can. I have recorded twenty years of faithful service in the Kingdom's military as both Magus Knight and Paladin, and in those capacities, I will be more than happy to put you down if that is what it takes to silence your slander.” He transformed himself back into his Prime Pike persona, ruffling his feathers like her.

Despite his claims, the eagless officer grinned and lowered her head. “That is an agreeable offer, you inferior insect. I am Optio Vanus Ondrea, and I will accept your challenge at any time.”

“Optio Ondrea,” Gilda addressed her by name for the first time now that she had heard it, allowing some of her anger to leak into her voice in the form of a sharp trill. “I have warned you once already to refrain from insulting our allies. That is twice you have done so. Once more, and I will reduce your rank on my authority as diplomatic liaison and recommend to Tribune Cipio that you be removed from your post. If you are not willing to work with either our allies or other service branches, then you have no place here.”

That earned an equally sharp trill in response as well as a pair of angrily flared wings. “And you, so-called sub-Tribune, have no business either running this meeting or holding such a prestigious post! You may have impressed the Tribune thanks to the Changeling Queen bewitching him, but not the rest of us! What have you done to hold such a high rank or command superior service branches except lay with these upright and ugly apes while hiding behind more experienced officers? I say it is you who should leave this meeting and turn in your chain here and now!”

Gilda sensed everyone’s eyes turning towards her to see how she would deal with such a brazen show of disrespect. The rims of her vision turned bright pink as her anger flared into white-hot fury, suddenly and quite badly wanting to slam the other eagless right through the map table for slandering not just her, but Marco.

But she found her very teenage flare of temper restrained by not only her new rank, but a sudden mental message from Queen Lepidoptes, who had sensed her emotions from far away.

I am watching events through the eyes of Archon Skorpius, Grizelda Behertz. And though I understand perfectly well the affront you feel, this is one time that a sharp wit will serve you in better stead than a sharp blade, she silently advised.

As we need every available soldier in this war, even arrogant ones like her, find a way to deal with her short of fighting a duel whose outcome would be uncertain at best. Consider this a hard-learned lesson from my line’s long history that there are far better ways to discourage this eagless and those who might follow her other than challenging her.

Sharp wit? Better ways? But what? Gilda mentally echoed the advice, thinking that she could certainly come up with a slew of insults that might enrage the eagless Optio, making her sloppy enough to lose a duel.

But that alone might not discourage the challenges that would follow hers, coming from Knight or Paladin griffons who had a cooler head but took equal offense at being commanded by the Guard. So I need to not only beat her without fighting, but show her why you don’t want to mess with me in the first place!

Her grin turned sly as she suddenly remembered a story she’d heard years earlier in Equestria, involving a military commander who faced a similar dilemma dating all the way back to the Great Pony/Gryphon War. Even her teenage self had been impressed by the tale and the size of the pony stallion’s sac in doing what he did, defeating and humiliating his would-be challenger in one fell swoop, forcing the latter to obey him without so much as a single blade slash or hoofstrike.

Would it work here? Only if she hasn’t heard the story herself, but… no way she knows it. I know her type, because I used to be the same way—so proud of her own heritage that she thinks all others are beneath hers, and thus not worth knowing! “Very well, Optio. You may consider your challenge as issued, and I accept. We will fight a duel here and now. But as I am the aggrieved party, I get to set the terms of battle,” she reminded the Knight officer with a lowered head.

“By all means,” the other eagless invited, stepping forth as a duel ring was hurriedly cleared for them behind the map table. “For as a Wind Knight, there is not a single form of combat in which I am inferior to you.”

Though Gilda was sorely tempted to prove her wrong, she didn’t waver from her plan. “I doubt it, but fine. The terms of victory is that the loser gets demoted back to Decurion and must obey the other without question. Fair?” she prompted, to which the other eagless nodded sharply even as Giraldi gave Gilda a disbelieving look, but she wasn’t about to explain what she was doing.

Give me some credit, Giraldi—you’ll see what’s happening soon enough! “Good. And as far as the battle terms go, we will decide this strictly on the ground and fight within a two-body length duel circle. It will further be contained within a Magus shield to prevent us from leaving—so no flying and no running away!” she outlined.

The terms earned her some startled looks, including a shocked one from both Giraldi and Miles Fortuna. She assumed the latter pair were due to the fact that if Gilda had already lost to a Paladin in ground combat, then they knew it was highly unlikely at best she could defeat an equally well-trained Knight!

“Ah, so you want close quarters combat where neither side is allowed to give any ground? That is more than acceptable, sub-Tribune! And what is your choice of weapon?” Optio Ondrea began flexing her talons at the floor eagerly, no doubt anticipating how she would thrash her weaker sky griffon opponent in a setting where all the advantages were hers. “Axe? Spear? Blade? Or just our bare talons?”

Gilda’s grin turned evil as she paused for a moment, imagining the reaction her next words were likely to evoke. “I choose to duel with incendiary gems at one pace! Do you accept, Optio?”

The look on the female Knight’s face was something to behold as her beak dropped open and cheeks paled mightily at the suggestion, which was a death sentence for them both. For the detonation of even a single such crystal inside the shield bubble would instantly immolate each of them, filling the entire space with inescapable, all-consuming flame. “By all the Crows of the Kingdom, are you completely mad?”

“That depends. Do you accept or yield?” Gilda prompted again as off to the side, Obsidian Ire was now wearing a broad grin while the impressed Magus who was overseeing the displays of the map table charged a couple crystals with the requisite spell, hovering them before the two eaglesses.

Gilda accepted hers and began casually tossing it in the air. “I’m still waiting for your answer, Optio. And just in case you’re thinking of snatching mine from me…” She twisted the top sharply to activate it, causing it to start glowing in her grasp, meaning it would detonate if she lost her grip on it.

Her actions earned a series of gasps and caused nearby griffons to hurriedly back away; even the female Knight Optio shrank back as Gilda moved forward to corner her.

“So, what will it be, you idiot eagless? Want to kill each other?” she asked in direct imitation of Marco when he challenged the drake earlier in Cipio’s office, wishing she could see the look on Imlay’s face behind her just then given he had to recognize where the choice of words came from.

And that was just as much a bluff as this! “Or will you simply surrender and accept that this is not the time for discord or duels? As you already agreed to the terms of defeat, you only have two choices—demotion or death!”” She pretended to fumble the gem for a moment, causing everyone to take sharp intakes of breath and recoil—except for Obsidian Ire, who fearlessly strode right up next to them.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I have no intention of interfering. I just thought I’d be the ideal choice to officiate the duel!” The fireproof female grinned toothfully as she stood beside them, crossing her arms over her black-scaled chest as she leisurely considered the scene. “No dragon would decline this duel, Optio. Will you?”

“No dragon would be endangered by it,” Optio Ondrea said weakly, staring in open terror at Gilda’s activated crystal but afraid to make any move lest she accidentally knocked it free.

For her part, Gilda was amazed that she felt so calm and in control despite the great danger she’d put herself in, her smile growing. “Irrelevant. Those are my terms, Optio! And if you do not accept them here and now, you forfeit the duel with loss of rank and honor! Our time grows short, so what will it be? You have ten seconds to decide!” Gilda stepped closer, allowing her voice to grow more maniacal even as she wondered how much of her crazed manner was actually feigned.

But when the badly unnerved Optio seemed speechless, Gilda ordered the requisite shield bubble cast over all three of them, confining them with an active incendiary crystal.

That finally pushed the eagless over the edge of panic. “I concede! I concede!” Optio Omeada shouted as the orange-glowing gem drew closer and she could only press back against the translucent barrier behind her. “I accept your authority! Now please put that thing away before you kill us both!”

“Fine.” Gilda reset the crystal by twisting the top the other way, causing a sharp click and the glow to fade to the visible relief of the others. Except for Obsidian Ire, who looked almost disappointed even as the shield bubble was withdrawn and she stepped between the two eaglesses, perhaps to head off any attempt to attack Gilda now that the danger was withdrawn.

“Your challenge is met, Decurion. So this is your final warning—you will mind your tongue and your manners in the presence of our allies at all times. You will treat them—and all soldiers present—with due respect for their rank and station regardless of race or service. Or as the Ancestors are my witness, you will leave this room as an Auxiliaris Decanus instead of a Knight Decurion and be commanding a Peacekeeper contingent dispatched to patrol the Mines! Are we clear?”

“Quite clear,” the visibly unnerved and badly shaking eagless answered as several pieces of armor were removed from her in reflection of her lowered rank. “By all the Crows of the Kingdom, you are utterly insane!”

Though Gilda might have taken that as an insult, she found it far more a compliment at that moment. “Why thank you,” she said with a grin, making a show of baring her throat. “Because by all the same Crows of the Kingdom, I wouldn’t have survived so many fights with the Cloven or made rank unless I was.” She casually tossed the crystal back to the Magus who had charged it, who instantly de-powered it, an equally awestruck and wary look on her face.

It was an expression Gilda realized was shared by everycreature else in the room as well, excepting Obsidian Ire, who seemed far more amused than anything else. “I approve of your choice of tactics, Grizelda Behertz, unorthodox though they are. You are clearly just as crazy as your human mate. And thus, perhaps you deserve each other,” she mused, then chanced giving Gilda’s headfeathers an affectionate ruffle much as she had done to Marco’s mane earlier, earning a glare.

“As she says,” an impressed Giraldi spoke up. “And I see you heard the story of how the great pony General Rock Biter once dealt with an insubordinate officer who challenged him to a duel. My compliments for pulling it out here, sub-Tribune. I would never have thought to use it,” he further noted to several surprised looks.

She bared her throat back at him. “Good catch, Optio. I learned about him and the story when I toured a military museum in Stalliongrad with my mother as a young teen. He was one of the few pony warriors I didn’t think was dweeby. And it was just too good a trick not to use.” She gave a very deliberate shrug, and then took her place back at the front of the table, sitting down and picking up her bowl of tea to take a measured sip.

“Now where were we…? Ah, yes. No interservice or inter-military duels,” she said evenly, struggling to stifle the smile that kept threatening to break her beak even as her body was starting to tremble from the adrenaline rush wearing off.

Wait until I tell Marco about this one! Of course, he’ll probably be just as aghast as I was when he challenged that drake. Fine, then he’ll know how I felt! “I think it’s clear why they’re bad ideas, especially when emotions are running high and intact chains of command between allies and service branches are paramount. Am I wrong?” She challenged them all, and this time, no derision greeted her words.

She did, however, hear the Queen’s voice in her head again. You are truly an eagless as unafraid as you are unfiltered, Grizelda Behertz, she said in a tone that conveyed both pride and relief.

I witnessed your actions through Archon Skorpius, who expresses admiration for the equal parts ‘audacity and insanity’ he says it took to pull that off convincingly. I have also informed the Tribune in turn, who says he wishes he could have seen it, but that he may still have some sharp words of rebuke for both you and the former Optio later.

Then tell him that as it worked, I have no regrets! And that I will have a long list of recommendations for him to consider, Gilda thought back, to which the Queen gave her a mental nod and withdrew her presence.

“Though I find your means of persuasion… unconventional, you are not wrong, sub-Tribune.” Even Fillius was suddenly speaking to her with far more respect. “Establishing the customary chains of command between the services is simply a luxury we do not have right now, especially when the Knights and Talons lack enough experienced officers to properly form their own units or command Auxiliaris ones. And therefore, duels over service hierarchy are disruptive to the defense of the city.”

“I’m glad you agree.” Turning to the Tribune’s Chief of Staff, Gilda had to admit that Fillius hadn’t lost his good sense. The tinge of worry she experienced earlier had come back, but muted as she felt relief that whatever issues he had with her, he and the others were generally competent and level-headed enough that a mistake or misstep on her part wasn’t going to kill them all. “Now, getting back to the business at wing before we were so rudely interrupted… give your report, Centurion Varinius.”

“By your command,” He gave Gilda a small grin as he saluted. “It’s good to see you again, sub-Tribune. Though the last time I saw you, you were but a mere Gladio,” he reminded her. “I must say, your temper and willingness to challenge others is just as impressive now as it was then.”

“And the last time I saw you, youhad finally made Decurion.” She gave him a smirk back, reminding him that she knew embarrassing stories about him, too. He chuckled but wisely chose to just give his report.

“Fully mobilized, the city now has around two millennia of Auxilia available with another several centuries still undergoing healing. To this point, they’ve been the primary defenders of the city and will remain so given Talon numbers do not equal theirs. But the problem is that they are not all on the front lines. Too many—nearly half—have been working as temporary Peacekeepers as well as our secondary scouts, keeping unrest from erupting within the city again,” he detailed, waiting for Gilda’s nod before continuing.

“As far as pony and griffon civilians go, all noncombatants have been relocated inside Aricia’s walls, even those that were displaced since our new additions. There were a few small, vocal protests from the local nobility at having to house refugees, but nothing to worry about given the Tribune’s authority supersedes the Maior under the state of war and martial law declarations,” he said simply.

“I see. On the subject of unrest, I understand that there were civilian riots in the city on the first day of war. Does that remain a threat, or can we start pulling the Guard into our ranks again instead of leaving them to patrol the streets?” Gilda asked.

Varinius hesitated, but only briefly. “There has been no further unrest since the first night, when the Tribune… dealt with the rioters himself. His original decree regarding them consisted of throwing the ringleaders into the mines while promising a brutal death for ‘anygriffon who would abandon their Ancestors and honor’,” he said with an undercurrent of anger that Gilda shared.

“Though harsh, I am pleased to say that the Tribune’s edicts seem to have helped matters greatly, as do extra patrols in the street. However, even if the current situation in the city is peaceful, I would strongly advise against pulling the Guard away. Understand that they are not just there to prevent additional unrest, but to also provide a means to counter and contain another underground raid should one be launched.”

Gilda looked up sharply. “Is that still a threat? I would have assumed the Magus had guarded against it after the first one. And seeing what became of coastal cities.”

“Be assured that we have,” the Magus Decurion who had been illustrating the war briefing said, swirling the sands of the map table again to transform it into a close-in map of Aricia. “But our wards against tunneling are not perfect, sub-Tribune, and the Cloven do still have captured mages under their thrall. As the tactic worked well for the Cloven when sufficient parasites were available, we fully expect them to eventually try it here.”

“Then forgive me for asking, but what good would your Auxiliary Guard be if such a breakthrough happened again?” Karin Kazal asked pointedly. “Unable to stop such an onslaught, they would simply be adding fuel to the fire by giving the Cloven a ready-made source of corrupted soldiers that would then be turned on the rest of the city.”

The remark earned some ruffled feathers. “Hard as it may be to believe, ibex, we did think of that. And quickly came up with some counters,” the Magus replied, her tone annoyed. “As I’m sure you know, the parasites are fragile and very vulnerable to electrical attacks. Their threat comes with massed numbers, not when they strike singly. Thus, our soldiers are equipped with these.”

She levitated up a glittering blue gemstone from her belt. “These are enhanced shock gems with a much wider range due to a different diffusion rate of the bolts. Once they activate, their sparks don’t stay grouped. They instead spread rapidly around them, jumping from parasite to parasite and killing all of them within a roughly thirty-pace radius,” she said as the Starshina plucked it out of the air and examined it, probing it with his aura.

“Thus, even a few such gems would decimate a charging force of them. Toss one into a recently opened hole, and you will kill all the parasites within. Of course, any griffon in the vicinity would also be shocked, but the shock is not lethal except at very close range. Unfortunately, that holds for the Cloven trooper types as well. I would emphasize that it is not effective against them or any other larger Cloven form.”

“I see. I knew the flyers were vulnerable to lightning, but not the parasites. Has this strategy been tested?” Karin Kazal then asked.

“Not by us, no. But we were advised to do this by our communications with Arnau,” she replied. “They sent us the spell to use, saying its adoption was the reason cities further north on the Italon peninsula still stood.”

“Clever,” the ibex buck granted, nodding thoughtfully as he passed back the gem. “My compliments to your Magus Knights, Decurion. And in return, I can offer you a similar spell that is far more effective against concentrations of Cloven flyers than single bolts of lightning.”

“You mean your lightning flak spell?” Gilda asked, wincing when she realized from all the blank stares that nogriffon knew the human word.

“Da,” he replied, seemingly unperturbed by it himself. “It has similar effects in the air. In the horns of a skilled mage, it can bring down entire flocks of flyers. My Adepts and I have already used it repeatedly to good effect.”

“I’m sorry. Flak?” Fillius asked, echoing the confusion she could see on the other faces in the room.

“It’s…” Gilda wasn’t sure how to describe it.

“It’s a human weapon meant to bring down airborne enemies,” the Starshina answered for her, earning a surprised look from Imlay and Gilda. “Basically, large explosive crystals flung high into the air to burst amid enemy formations. In this instance, modified to be a shock spell with spreading sparks much like your anti-parasite gem. It proved very useful against razorbat formations. Less so against their larger carrier forms.”

Gilda stared at him. “How did you—”

“We stole Marco Lakan’s ‘laptop’ device and saw many of the ‘movies’ on it, remember?” He reminded her shortly. “That and the many other weapons we saw in them were why we were trying so hard to prevent your alliance with the humans,” he further added, eliciting a grimace from Imlay, who turned to the Capricorn Adept.

“Then you saw…”

“Everything,” the ibex buck confirmed pensively, and for the first time since Gilda had met him, he looked genuinely haunted. “For example, do the words ‘Castle Bravo’ mean anything to you, Corporal Imlay?” he asked pointedly with an edge to his voice, to which the Marine corporal winced and looked away.

“Goddammit, Marco. Of all the things to have on there…” Imlay muttered, adding under his breath that he was going to have a long and possibly unpleasant talk with him later.

Gilda resolved to do so herself to find out what the Starshina was referring to. “I see…” she said cautiously. “Then would you be willing to share this human-inspired spell with our own Magus Knights?”

“And us?” Archon Skorpius added on behalf of the Changelings.

“Of course,” Karin Kazal said simply as if the answer was self-evident. “There is little point in withholding it, sub-Tribune. It’s not that difficult to learn, though like all elemental attacks, I would warn that repeated use of it can be draining to the caster and injure damaged antlers—or Magus staves—further.”

“See to it,” she told him, to which he nodded and the Optio notekeeper took another note. “We’ll send some select Magus Knights including Centurion Floriana to learn it from you later, and then they’ll teach it to the rest. But getting back to the subject at wing…” She tried to forcibly resettle her thoughts, which were wandering as the adrenaline rush of her near-duel only slowly wore off. “What other, perhaps more irregular forces do we have available?”

“Potentially plenty,” Centurion Varinius said. “We’ve been approached by the local Caleponians. It seems that they, and the forty or so Sevastaponian pegasi present, want to help defend the city. The latter belong to a militia as military service is required of all of them on the Cheetahean peninsula, so they’re already trained soldiers. We’re trying to find some working wingblades for them out of museums and private arms collections, given that’s not something normally stocked in our armories.”

“Wingblades or no, even a few pegasi could be very valuable,” Giraldi noted. “If they have skill in weather control, we can use them in place of Magus to flood tunnels or attack routes, generate gales or even fire lightning from clouds. They are an excellent force multiplier, so I strongly suggest we make use of them. We should incorporate at least a few of them into any assault or defense force.”

“The Optio speaks true,” Karin Kazal said somewhat ruefully. “Believe me when I say that the патриоты-партизаныibex groups that seek to reclaim the Ramean peninsula generally fear pegasi more than griffons, given their superior flight ability as well as being able to wield weather against them. And given likely Cloven unfamiliarity with them, it seems likely that our enemy won’t be able to effectively counter them at first, either.”

“But that will change quickly, after just one or two engagements,” Miles Fortuna pointed out, ignoring the fact that her Capricorn Adept rival had referred to the Cheetahean peninsula by its Ibexian name.

“The Cloven will adapt to them or any other tactics we use rapidly, so if we are truly going to take the offensive, we need to make our initial strikes as decisive as possible, up to and including killing the current area Overlord. Do so, and their entire pre-attack harassment campaign falls apart before it even gets started,” she noted, and Gilda found herself nodding in agreement.

“A point well-taken, Senior Scimitar. Still, there is much more we need before we can even consider taking the offensive, not the least of which is better intelligence and an improved arsenal. As the Cloven have already greatly increased their ability to penetrate our existing armor—” Gilda paused long enough to look pointedly at Obsidian Ire, who grimaced and rubbed a fading wound on her side “—we will need more advanced weapons and protection.”

“The Council of Crows labs in Aricia can supply some—I was told by another Raven that Shadow Decurion Ebon Umbreon and his new team received some experimental gear for his latest reconnaissance mission,” Miles Fortuna stated. “But as they do not have the ability to produce such equipment on a mass scale, I’m hoping that the dragons can use their dragonfire to boost the offensive and defensive power of our existing protection and armaments.”

All eyes turned to Obsidian Ire as she considered the question and nodded slowly. “We will do so to the extent we can, given our limited numbers and the fact that our fire is not inexhaustible,” the tall drakina reminded them all.

“We can certainly infuse a limited amount of griffon steel, whether armor or weapons, with our breath. But given my available clan musters but sixteen drakes and drakinas now, the number of soldiers we could equip with enhanced arms over the next week would be no more than five or six centuries. And that assumes we work around the clock, which means we would not be available to repulse attacks if we were all working in armories or blackbird forges.”

Gilda instantly noted that Obsidian Ire had used the griffon term blackbird for metalworkers, which was no surprise since she’d explained the previous night that she’d spent a decade in the Kingdom as a young and immature adolescent, learning to forge weapons and armor as an apprentice to a griffon master—a former Fortis Knight who was unimpressed with her initial arrogance and attitude.

He’d apparently had to defeat her in single combat quite soundly before she accepted him as her teacher and mentor. But once he did so, she became a loyal and eager apprentice; she’d even expressed a certain reverence for him for having taught her both metalworking and blade combat, turning her into the far more powerful and capable drakina she’d become.

Huh. You know, it sounds like she started out just like I used to be! Gilda noted to herself with a brief grin, wondering if they’d become fast friends at the same relative age or would have hated each other on sight.

“As we will need some of you available for combat action, both offensive and defensive, we’ll work out a rotation and sleep schedule for you,” she decided with a nod over at the orderly, who took a fresh note, though Gilda saw her writing was getting more ragged and she was shaking out her claws repeatedly. “And supply you with all the gems you’ll need to keep yourselves fed and your flame powered. Your clan is now one of our most potent weapons in this war, Obsidian Ire. We need to preserve your numbers and combat strength as much as possible.”

“Thank you,” the tall drakina said shortly, baring her throat briefly.

The mention of gems immediately brought another question to the forefront of Gilda’s thoughts. “Speaking of crystals, how are we on supply?”

“Supplies are sufficient and growing,” was the answer given by the Legion’s new Logistica, causing Gilda to look up in surprise.

Wow. Some good news? “Growing? How?”

“The city was originally built as a mining town beside an old volcanic range, and the mines are still supplying us both gemstones and ore,” Centurion Aelia explained perfunctorily. “The mines themselves are mostly between the inner and outer fortress walls, meaning they can be protected.”

She pointed to an area on the map that showed a linear chain of hills running roughly from north to south on the west side of the city, which the Magus controlling the map table helpfully turned a reddish hue; when Gilda squinted she realized from their shape that the hills appeared to be volcanic cones with a few even having visible craters on top.

Her statement earned the attention of Obsidian Ire. “As there are no telltale scents of volcanic gasses or ground heat in the area that I can see, the range is inactive and has been for a minimum of many centuries. Pity,” she mused. “I could use a lava bath right now.”

“Be that as it may, the mines are still productive to this day, though we have had to dig deeper to find fresh gems,” the eagless Logistica explained.

“Which makes them a potential attack avenue,” Imlay pointed out. “Could corrupted Diamond Dogs reach them and use them to infiltrate the city’s defenses?”

His remarks earned another scowl. “As Diamond Dog raids of gem caches and mines are always a possibility, our tunnels are heavily enchanted against that, human,” Fillius told him, a note of annoyance creeping back into his voice.

“Except I presume corrupted mages could remove such enchantments,” Imlay replied coolly. “And it’s Corporal Imlay, griffon.” He answered in an identical tone, earning some ruffled feathers.

“Show respect, both of you.” Gilda glared them silent as she considered the questions. “Corporal Imlay is correct. We can’t presume that standard defensive wards will hold against Diamond Dog incursions supported by corrupted mages. So how can we prevent the Cloven from gaining entry to the tunnel system?”

“We can reinforce griffon wards with Ibexian ones,” Karin Kazal suggested. “We use different magical methods to defeat Diamond Dog incursions that your mages—and thus corrupted ones—wouldn’t be familiar with.”

“Except several of your team were corrupted, so the Cloven could well have that knowledge now, Starshina,” Miles Fortuna pointed out. “That means we can’t rely on Ibexian wards, either. But what about Changeling ones?” she mused aloud, turning to Archon Skorpius.

“Yes, our magic can do the job,” he said with a slow nod. “In building our hives, we both hide and protect our tunnels from being even accidentally accessed or discovered with a series of stealth and anti-breach enchantments. We can do the same here, though I would still recommend that any tunnels that branch outside the city walls be collapsed to prevent Cloven use.”

“Agreed,” Gilda concurred after only a moment’s thought. “I recommend that we collapse or fill in any mining tunnels to within fifty paces of the outside city wall. Or better yet, since waiting for the Tribune’s approval could be dangerous and we have no sense of underground Cloven activity yet, I’m directing that it be done immediately,” she decided, writing out a quick order on the edge of the table in front of her.

“With respect, you do not have the authority to order that without the Tribune’s approval, sir,” Fillius pointed out again, to which Gilda fixed him with a stare. Though she might have conceded the point, she decided it was time for one more emphatic assertion of her new rank and post.

“As they are a possible invasion route into the city, they must be secured at once. This is on my authority as the Tribune’s deputy in his absence, and I am not going to interrupt his diplomatic tour with Queen Lepidoptes over such a trivial matter. It needs to be done, so by my order, do it!” she ordered in her most authoritative and intimidating tone, applying her command seal to the document. She then passed it to a Magus who made multiple copies of it, one of which went to a summoned Auxiliaris orderly, a young tiercel Spear who looked completely lost.

“Uh, with greatest respect, sub-Tribune, who do I give this to—"

“To the civilian head of the city’s mining cooperative,“ Faustus replied in some exasperation. “His name is Lapillus Fodiens. You will find him in his office at the main entrance to the mine complex at the western inner wall. I’ve dealt with him before. As he tends to be rather gruff and protective of his business interests, I doubt he will be happy with our request. So if he objects, tell him that as the city is under martial law, he must accede to military needs. And if he still refuses to do it, inform him that we will arrest him immediately if he fails to comply.”

“In which case we will need to send a force to do so. I recommend a Peacekeeping Turma backed by Talons and accompanied by the Changelings. Given the underground nature of your homes, I presume your drones are more than capable of both erecting and destroying tunnels?” Giraldi asked the Archon, who nodded again.

“Be assured that even in our base forms, we are very good at both given we must burrow deep to build our hives. We will simply need access to the mine maps, and once obtained, we will have the outermost tunnels safely sealed within an hour,” he said, closing his eyes and concentrating for a moment. “The Queen concurs with the sub-Tribune’s assessment of the danger and will notify Tribune Cipio of her decision. She will dispatch Archon Archex and a score of digger drones disguised as Talons to do the work. They will meet the Peacekeepers at the main mining office.”

“Good. And pass this order to the on-duty Peacekeepers guarding the mine,” Gilda further instructed, writing out a second order and waiting for it to be copied before passing it to the same aide, who was looking more than a little nervous. “It authorizes them to arrest Lapillus Fodiens if he does not cooperate. You act with my authority and will have a Praetorian Guard Centurion on your side when you arrive. Now move!” she ordered the young soldier sharply, to which he hastily bared his throat and departed.

Gilda watched him leave, then turned her attention back to the rest of the War Council, just catching Giraldi’s approving nod as their gazes briefly met. So far so good… she thought as she scanned the map table again, but then remembered something else.

“As I recall, the outer wall was breached by one of the Cloven attacks. Has it been repaired?” She wasn’t about to mention that she’d not been told that directly but had seen it happen in the Tribune’s memory the day before.

Fillius looked visibly startled at her question, exchanging surprised looks with some of the other council members; Gilda could well guess that they were trying to figure out how she knew that. “A minor section of the outer wall was brought down by ballistae stolen from Tierra and wielded by corrupted Talons in the northeast sector, yes. We were able to seal the breach with soldiers and a temporary magical barricade that must be constantly maintained by Magus Knights. The breach is large enough to not be quickly repairable,” he explained, to which the Magus controlling the map table circled and marked the area with a white ring.

“Any magical barricade can also be magically undone with enough mages,” Karin Kazal pointed out. “A team of Adepts working in concert could do it, and as several of my team were corrupted, that means a group of corrupted griffon mages now have their knowledge and could likely do it as well.”

“So nice to know that even as allies, the Capricorn Conclave still works to subvert us,” Miles Fortuna mused, to which the Starshina gave her a stare. He didn’t immediately say anything or cast a visible spell, but suddenly Miles Fortuna blushed and squirmed, making Gilda wonder what he’d done to her.

“Just doing our jobs,” he said in a slightly teasing tone, catching Gilda’s gaze and winking as she briefly felt the caress of his aura on her belly on the sensitive flesh below her armor, forcing her to stifle a blush of her own. “But with regards to this breach, it remains a possible invasion route into the city. I strongly advise reinforcing it with whatever magical means are available.”

“If magic is out, then use physical traps and obstructions,” Imlay suggested, not noticing Gilda’s momentary discomfort at the sudden stimulation, which she was both relieved but mildly disappointed that the Starshina didn’t continue. “Plant a broad minefield, and then back it up further with those zapper towers of yours.”

“You mean our lightning orbs. And I’m sorry, human—er, Corporal Imlay. What do you mean by ‘minefield’?” Faustus addressed him in Equish with far more respect than Fillius did.

“Oh, right. I guess you don’t have those,” he said. “I mean, plant a series of explosive or other crystals in the ground in front of the breach that will be triggered when an attacking force passes over them. It’s a tried-and-true method in my world to whittle enemy numbers down.”

“Ah,” Faustus nodded his understanding. “We do have them, but ours are generally magically based—basically, field traps for use against grounded infantry forces. You mean a more physical variant of it. I could see its use against Cloven trooper formations, but it could not be of small size. We would have to plant explosive and other gems in a broad arc in front of the breach to even begin to blunt a major Cloven attack. But the amount of gems required to significantly dent the millennium-sized assaults they launched before would be staggering. I am not sure we have enough.”

“Then only use a few, charged with massive amounts of dragonfire,” Obsidian Ire suggested with a broad and toothy grin. “Though infusing armor or weapons takes time, we could charge a roomful of gems with a single sweep of our breath. That should go a long way towards ‘denting’ them, as you say.”

“An excellent idea, drakina,” Faustus said after a brief pause, baring his throat at her. “Any more suggestions, Corporal Imlay? Your perspective is admittedly unique, but perhaps that is exactly what we need here.”

“Thank you. And yes. If you can’t rebuild the wall, then dig a broad trench with steep sides in front of it that can’t be easily scaled. That will cost them even more time and troops to surmount while crossbow bolts and Marine rifle fire are raining down on them.”

“We can do it,” Archon Skorpius offered again on behalf of his hive. “Or better yet, let us excavate some hidden tunnels in front and beneath the breach. We could then collapse them at an opportune time and then trigger some of those dragon-boosted gems. Such holes would ensnare large numbers of Cloven soldiers and would be an easy way to disrupt any attacks. We could also do the same thing at the main gates of the city, only activating the defenses when the Cloven arrived.”

“That would be very helpful. And how long would it take your hive to dig such defenses, Archon?” Faustus asked again.

“With enough drones? Less than a day,” he promised. “But as the number of us needed and security measures required would not be trivial—it would require us to operate at least somewhat in the open outside of the city walls, meaning proper care and countermeasures will need to be taken—such a construction project could not be haphazard and would have to be planned in advance. So for now, I would say to leave it as a recommendation for the Tribune.”

“Done,” Gilda replied with another nod at the adjutant, who wrote a fresh note even as Faustus himself took his own. “Anything else, Corporal?” she then prompted, sensing from his demeanor that there was something else he was thinking of. “Your ideas have been excellent, so please feel free to offer more.”

He hesitated briefly before answering. “My apologies, sir. The only other thing I was thinking of was how to counter another artillery attack—what you call ballistae. I don’t know its capabilities in your world as opposed to mine, but I was wondering—how far can it reach, and is it capable of precision strikes?”

Gilda glared a fuming Fillius silent before she answered. “A good question, Corporal. As I haven’t worked with ballistae myself in the past, I don’t know the answers except in very general terms, including what type of ballistae we currently have available. Centurion Faustus?” She turned to the earth griffon tiercel again, who she was quickly coming to appreciate as an impressive and reliable source of military information.

“We currently have six of the smaller colubra and two large hydra siege engines available to us, with the latter being minotaur made,” he said, making Gilda wonder why they were named after serpents and monsters.

“This is half the normal allotment to a legion, given the rest were transferred to the Ibex border. But the latter especially are not very mobile and we don’t dare take them outside the city, making them of limited use. They are currently parked on a hill by their armory, which gives them the ability to hit concentrations of troops up to around twelve leagues away for the smaller guns, and eighteen in the case of the larger cannons. As to their accuracy…” he hesitated again.

“They are area of effect weapons. They cannot reliably hit anything smaller than large soldier formations or field fortifications, and even then, it tends to take a few shots to get them on target. We got lucky the first day when, thanks to what I now know was Changeling intelligence, we were able to catch a fresh Cloven attack force in the open, crushing them before they could hit our weakened defenses,” he noted with a bared throat at Archon Skorpius, who returned the gesture on behalf of his hive.

“Unfortunately, this means that the Cloven will be alert to this tactic again and is unlikely to gather in a large area that can be targeted. It also requires soldiers nearby to report the results of a strike and guide the fire. This makes them of very limited use.”

“I see,” a nodding Imlay said. “That range is comparable to certain types of our own guns. I think there’s a chance to use them more offensively here. As they have the range to reach them, could they potentially target the Cloven clusters?” he asked. “Bombard them from afar?”

“Accurately? No,” Faustus shook his head. “It would require not one but several very lucky shots, and it is very likely that only one or two shots would make it before Cloven defenses reacted. Corrupted mages could affect the flight of the projectiles or even detonate them from afar, neutralizing the tactic. We also have only limited stocks of ammunition, especially for the Hydra siege engines. They are what amounts to a mass attack weapon consisting of a series of tubes loaded with sixteen large, magically treated metal arrows that can be of at least three types. Devastating to whatever they hit, but also very slow to reload.”

“In other words, they’re basically a one-oh-five howitzer with unguided munitions and an MLRS…” Imlay muttered to himself, causing a series of confused glances to be exchanged around him.

“Sorry, just comparing them to what I know back home. In my world, our artillery, as we call it, has comparable range, but their projectiles can also be guided onto targets with very high accuracy by… various means. I saw from the earlier combat demonstration that the Changelings could magically make their arrows guide onto targets as well. Could that same ability be transferred to shots fired by your ballistae?”

His question elicited a series of startled expressions, including one from the normally unflappable Archon, who had to consider the question carefully before replying.

“That is… an intriguing suggestion,” Faustus admitted first. “To the best of my knowledge, we have never tried that before with anything larger than crossbow bolts. And even then, it proved very impractical since unlike the Ibex or Changelings, we are not all casters and mages, and thus cannot generally enchant our arrows or a target to attract them. Starshina? Archon?” He then prompted the two males. “Could either of you do it?”

“That is… possible. But I would consider it extremely inadvisable,” Karin Kazal spoke first.“In theory, it could work. But it would also be incredibly dangerous. it would not only require a mage to get uncomfortably close to the target to ‘tag’ it, but the amount of magic required to affect a projectile of that size in flight is… considerable. It would leave a mage of any race drained and very vulnerable, lighting them up with a magical beacon instantly visible to nearby mages even if they tried to hide within a shroud. Worse, a corrupted caster would sense the enchantment instantly and disperse it. And they could then target the infiltrating mage in turn.”

“If it’s possible, then regardless of difficulty, it should be considered as a potentially cheap and easy way to destroy Cloven bases or even hit their Overlord. Could a disguised Changeling get close enough to do it safely?” Imlay didn’t give up on the idea.

“Perhaps…” Archon Skorpius answered cautiously. “But the same dangers would apply to us as well. We would have to drop our disguises and reveal ourselves to cast, which is the only time our auras are usually visible to the magical awareness of an outside observer. And a standard drone would not have enough magicto make such a large and fast projectile guide on its own. I or Archon Archex might have sufficient strength of aura, but that would make us an instant—and very tempting—target for the Cloven. And even we would be hard pressed to hold off or escape an entire alerted Cluster.”

“And what about a group of drones, Archon?” Giraldi asked. “We saw for ourselves how your soldiers can pool their power to cast much more complex and potent spells than they can individually. Could the same be done here?”

“Yes, but I do not recommend that, Optio Galen Giraldi, as such a strategy presents its own intractable issues.” Skorpius slowly shook his head.

“Recall that we must cut our ties to our hivemind to not be detected by the Cloven as we approach. Never mind the fact that many drones would find that traumatic, but being cut off also means that we cannot coordinate or ‘pool’ our magic as you saw this morning. It would become far more difficult to cast in concert, which would be essential here.”

“Enough,” Gilda cut the debate off. “It’s an interesting idea, but it’s also clear that this will require a lot more thought to be useful. There are Council of Crows research labs in the city, correct?” She turned to Miles Fortuna, who nodded. “We should ask them to investigate this as a possible tactic and see if they can come up with some suggestions. Can you see to it, Senior Scimitar?”

The Raven eagless bared her throat and saluted. “Consider it done, sub-Tribune.”

“Excellent,” Gilda said as she returned the honor and rolled the parchment back up. “Very well. Now that suggestions for the legion’s officer assignments, reorganization, Magus training and logistics seem to be sorted out, it’s time for the most important question of all: how are we going to defend the city once the Cloven arrive in force…?”