Unprecedented problems require unprecedented solutions.
Bogo rolled the words around in his mind. There were dozens of things that mammals had said that had stuck in his memory for whatever reason, going back to even before he took the oath that had made him a member of a City Guard. His predecessor as Captain General had been a veritable font of wisdom, and he could remember her way with words even years later. But the latest phrase to catch in his mind was far more recent than any of the others, and it had come from an almost unlikely source.
They were the princess's words, spoken not even half an hour earlier, and they were perhaps the surest sign he had ever seen that she would one day be ready to be queen. It was the first comforting thought he had held in quite some time, and he tried to hold onto the feeling as his army advanced across the wastelands, the syncopated steps of mammals who varied wildly in size providing a beat that was the only thing that could be heard.
The princess's counsel had been drawn in when one of the strangest-looking messengers Bogo had ever seen had swooped over the marching army not even ten minutes after they had left the War Gate and crossed into the wasteland. Just about every messenger bird Bogo had ever seen was a hawk or an eagle, or somewhat more rarely an owl. But the bird that had descended for him was a swift, one that Bogo assumed at first was a wild bird that saw the marching army as potential food source. Until, that was, the bird landed on his arm and he saw the tiniest shrew he had ever seen perched on the bird's back and holding its reins.
"You didn't make yourself easy to find," the shrew said without preamble, its voice high but unmistakably masculine, "Report for you, Lord Bogo."
Rather than getting his message then and there, Bogo had carried the bird and shrew, which together formed an almost imperceptible weight on his hoof, to the carriage that had been assembled for the queen, the princess, and their advisers. Considering that none of them was a soldier, Bogo doubted any of them, except perhaps Corazón, would have been up for marching to Phoenix. The carriage itself was fairly spacious, as even with Bogo sitting on one of the two overly plush bench seats that faced each other no one was quite touching elbows. The messenger had landed his bird on the table set at the center of the carriage, seeming to ignore the elaborate map of Zootopia that had already been there. When the tiny shrew caught sight of the queen and princess, his entire demeanor changed from visible annoyance at Bogo to almost overblown respect. He almost tripped over his feet in his hurry to bow, although that might also have been an effect of the rocking of the carriage, and introduced himself without daring to look either the queen or the princess in the face. "I am Middle of the Juan—I mean, Juan of the Middle Baronies, your majesties, and this is my partner Mitotiqui," he had said, and he did something with the reins held in one minuscule paw that made the bird do a surprisingly good imitation of a bow.
The shrew was dressed largely as Camoti had been, although he was so small that his clothes were difficult to see; without his glasses Bogo could barely make him out. His species was easily the smallest Bogo had ever encountered, as even the diminutive crime lord Alfonso would have towered over him, but they had vaguely similar snouts. Juan was also completely ignoring the other members of the Queen's Council, which Bogo didn't mind, although Lady Cencerro had a vaguely put-upon expression on her face at the snub. Juan was still bowing, and Bogo realized that the shrew probably didn't know what to do next; most mammals would never get the chance to see royalty up close, let alone to speak with them. "He was hired to travel to Phoenix and report back after we lost contact with the settlement," Bogo interjected hastily, "Your report, if you would."
Juan straightened up, tugging at his riding clothes anxiously. "The report, the report, of course," he said.
His voice was shaky with what was obviously nerves; he had none of the smooth charm of his fellow messenger. "I, ah, that is—"
"What did you see?" Lady Cencerro interrupted.
She was sitting behind the shrew's back, and he spun around before dipping in an awkward half bow. "Time is of the essence, is it not Captain General?" she said, with a sweetness to her voice that didn't extend to her face, "Anything you could tell us would be most helpful."
It was actually rather remarkable, when Bogo thought about it, that Lady Cencerro could manage to make such flattering words in such a gentle voice sound almost like a threat. "Of course!" Juan said, and he spun back around to face the queen and princess.
"There's an army outside Phoenix, just past the bridge. But not really. Because the bridge isn't there anymore, I mean, not that there isn't an army. Because there is. An army, not a bridge. In the wastelands, not Phoenix," the shrew said, and his words were coming out as quickly as water rushing over the edge of an aqueduct.
"Few thousand mammals, I'd say. All different sizes, too. Like... city guards. Not the City Guard, I mean, but like they were guarding Phoenix, and they all had uniforms too, but not like guard uniforms. They had banners, with this odd symbol, kind of like a... Like a..."
Juan's paws groped the air as he seemed to search for and fail at describing the symbol he had seen. Before anyone could prompt him to ask if it had been the sigil of the Betrayer, he seemed to pull something from a pouch at his waist (or at least Bogo assumed he had; his belt was too small to see) and fell to his knees. Without so much as asking first if he could draw on the richly made map, he drew a symbol nearly half as large as he was, which made it all but illegible to Bogo.
From the way he saw the heads of the other members of the council nod, though, Bogo assumed two things: that it was indeed Oztoyehuatl the Betrayer's personal symbol, and that Juan must have been a somewhat lackluster student in his younger days not to know that. From Corazón's response, he knew he was right on at least one count; the lion said, "So your cousin was telling the truth, Lady Cencerro."
"What about Phoenix itself?" the queen asked, apparently ignoring Corazón's petty swipe at Cencerro, "What did you see?"
"Ah, well, to tell the truth, your highness," Juan stammered, his entire body trembling, "I didn't see much. The mammals outside the city started shooting arrows at poor Mitotiqui here. We—that is, I mean, I—didn't think... That is, I didn't think it was safe to get lower. For a better view, I mean. But give the word, your highness, and I'll get close enough to see the whites of their eyes, I swear it."
The shrew had undergone a remarkable transformation as he spoke; as he pledged himself to make what sounded like it could be a doomed reconnaissance run, his voice had strengthened, and while he still spoke to the queen bowed low, some steel seemed to have come into his spine and his trembling stopped. But Bogo was more interested in what the messenger had confirmed, and especially in the new information he had learned. So far, everything Juan had said matched up perfectly with Lieutenant Colonel Cencerro's testimony; if it hadn't Bogo's next stop would have been over to the significantly smaller and less luxurious carriage in which the sheep was riding to engage in some significantly more intense questioning.
That the mammals holding Phoenix had archers was of particular interest to Bogo, considering he was almost certainly have to fight those mammals, and he asked the question that would help him most. "How many archers? How many arrows loose at one time?"
"Two or three dozen," Juan replied almost instantly, and he must have misread Bogo's frown of concentration because he quickly added, "I know I could get past them if I needed to, Lord Bogo."
Bogo grunted his acknowledgement, still thinking. He wasn't an expert at flight by any means, but he supposed it was true enough; if the army surrounding Phoenix really had destroyed the bridge into the settlement, it'd be safe enough inside of Phoenix. Unless, of course, they had worked their way through the tunnels in the ruins Phoenix was built on top of like termites in a rotting piece of wood.
Still, for an army of that size, it was a surprisingly low number of archers, but Bogo refused to let himself feel optimistic about his odds of success. As long as he had no idea what other surprises might await in Phoenix he wouldn't delude himself into thinking it would be easy. "That certainly sounds encouraging for our attack," Cerdo said brightly, appearing to be thinking along entirely opposite lines, "With their backs to the gorge, they don't stand a chance."
It was, Bogo had to admit, a reasonable tactical assessment. For an army to position themselves like that was foolish at best; they'd have no way to retreat and even the most incompetent lieutenant in all the City Guard would be able to set up a charge that would inflict massive casualties. "It might be a trap," the princess countered.
Her voice was quiet but firm, and Bogo's thoughts drew back to watching her practice with a sword. Assuming he could keep her safe, which was admittedly quite an assumption, she'd be an adult soon, and it was obvious that in many ways she had already begun to think like one. The queen nodded, and Bogo thought he saw both approval and acknowledgement of her daughter's contribution in the gesture. "We'll need more information," Queen Lana said, "I will not spend a single soldier's life needlessly."
"Absolutely, your highness, I'll be off at once," Juan replied eagerly.
He was fumbling with his bird's reins, not that Mitotiqui seemed to mind. He—or she, since Juan had never specified and Bogo didn't know how to tell the difference for a swift—was about the calmest bird Bogo had ever seen, particularly in contrast to Juan. "No, not yet," the princess said, lifting a single paw, "Juan of the Middle Baronies, how have you been paid for the work you've already done for the City Guard?"
The shrew was completely lost for words for a moment. "By contract, that is, same as any other client, your highness."
"And that contract only covered the delivery of a single scouting report to Lord Bogo, did it not?" the princess pressed on.
"It did, it did," Juan said, "But it's no trouble, no trouble at all for me to go again, your highness, I—"
"Juan of the Middle Baronies," the princess interrupted, "You were prepared to risk your life for a job you haven't even signed a contract to ensure payment for. Why?"
"It— It's the right thing to do, your highness," Juan said at last, "Anything for you or the kingdom."
The princess nodded. "Do you have a family, Juan of the Middle Baronies? A wife or any children?"
"Ah, well, not yet your highness, not yet, but I am to be married," Juan said, "Six months it is, we've been promised to each other. Long enough, she's been telling me."
The poor shrew sounded nearly as confused as Bogo felt, finishing his words with a nervous chuckle. He wasn't entirely sure what the princess was getting at, but when she spoke again she had the same calm authority her mother exuded. "Without a contract, there is no guarantee that you'll get paid," the princess said.
Bogo thought he saw Juan's tiny mouth open and close soundlessly, the shrew probably torn between vigorous denial and not wanting to interrupt. "And should you die, on this potentially dangerous scouting mission, there's no guarantee your betrothed would receive any compensation," the princess continued, "Whereas any single one of the mammals in the City Guard, should they die retaking Phoenix from the barbarians who attacked it, would leave behind some assistance to their families."
"Oh, well, I have a contract here," Juan said patting frenetically at his torso before pulling out a piece of folded up paper so tiny that whatever text was on it made the page look gray, "If you want to sign a contract, your highness."
"Not quite," the princess said, "You have a noble spirit, Juan of the Middle Baronies, to be willing to sacrifice for your city, but it is not right for me to demand that sacrifice of you without reward or protection. I ask you to take the oath of the City Guard."
Juan's answer—an enthusiastic "Yes, your highness," was nearly lost in the shocked reactions of Lord Cerdo and Lady Cencerro.
Both the pig and the sheep were obviously shocked, but when Bogo looked to the silent Lord Corazón he saw a look of satisfaction cross the lion's face. "Your highness, it is very unusual," Cerdo began in a somewhat hectoring tone, "Surely the contract, with appropriate bonus pay, would be sufficient?"
"Do you really mean to have him sworn in?" Cencerro asked, "It's unprecedented."
Bogo wasn't sure how much of her reaction was surprise and how much of it was the political maneuvering of realizing that the princess had just given Corazón a very clear sign of approval when it came to his proposals. "Unprecedented problems require unprecedented solutions," the princess had replied, and that had been that.
Bogo had administered the oath himself, swearing Juan in as a sergeant before the little shrew flew off to do more reconnaissance.
For his part, Bogo had excused himself soon afterwards, claiming to want to get an update on the army's status. Of course, his real reason for doing so was to consider what the princess had said, the words lodged in his brain like a splinter. Unprecedented problems require unprecedented solutions.
Even as Bogo checked in with every column of his force as it kicked up dust along the one road between Zootopia and Phoenix, he couldn't escape the words. Perhaps Corazón had been right all along; was Bogo desperately clinging to tradition in a way that ensured he would lose? The entire campaign he was embarking on had that sort of feeling to it, that everything would have been so much easier if something—tradition, momentum, whatever you wanted to call it—hadn't pulled events along tired old lines. There was no good reason a better and faster route to Phoenix couldn't have been built decades ago, but the political motivation had never been there. There was no reason that the Outer Wall couldn't have been fixed where it was breached near Phoenix, but it was said to be too expensive and there was nothing out past it. Everything his enemy had taken advantage of was something Zootopia's defenders had considered unimportant. And now he had come dangerously close to denying his army information it desperately needed just because the source of that information was a shrew.
It would have been easy to have interjected into the princess's conversation with the messenger, to offer a generous contract once again, and handle messengers the way they had always been treated. Not as a part of the City Guard, but as a lesser tool. A sort of mercenary one, a necessary evil. But by enlisting Juan, the princess had secured what seemed to be exceptional loyalty at a far lower cost than yet another expensive contract.
And Juan was only the first of what could be many. Bogo could imagine a much larger force, an entire new branch of the City Guard, and what it could be used for. It'd be expensive, of course, building up a viable force, but that was the only halfway reasonable counterargument he could think of. Besides, maybe if he started admitting shrews and mice to serve as bird-mounted scouts and messengers—and Gods, maybe even bats no matter how much slower they were—Corazón might stop pushing as hard for rabbits and other small mammals to go through the academy. But then, maybe he had been wrong there, too. If Lieutenant Colonel Cencerro had been telling the truth, Ensign Totchli had died a hero despite being a bunny and a loner while at the academy. Perhaps, as unlikely as it seemed, there were more bunnies like her out there.
Blindly following tradition wouldn't be what saved Zootopia, if there was anything that could save the city. He still had a horrible feeling that there was something he was overlooking, but he couldn't say what it was. Although they still weren't very far into their trip, none of the other members of the Queen's Council had taken the initiative to try murdering the queen or princess—which was a small favor, he supposed—but Bogo still had the nagging feeling that he had missed something important, his mind continuously circling back to the thought.
Just as Bogo was about to head back to the royal carriage, he was caught by a scout. A traditional scout, that was, not one of his new Aerial Guards or whatever term he ended up settling on. She was a slim young springbok, wearing the lightweight and totally unarmored uniform of a high-speed scout, with a belt of quauhxicallis all designed to improve her already impressive running speed. "Sir," she said, barely panting in an impressive display of endurance as expected of a scout that ranged far ahead of the army, "Two mammals approaching, about half a day's march away. A fox and a rabbit."
"A fox and a rabbit," Bogo repeated, and his blood began to run cold, "Was the rabbit wearing a City Guard uniform?"
"Yessir," the springbok replied; if she was surprised or impressed that he had known that, it didn't show on her face, "Her armor looked a bit battered and dirty, but I'd swear she's City Guard."
Bogo frowned. As he saw it, there were only two real possibilities. Either Lieutenant Colonel Cencerro had been lying about Ensign Totchli's death or the barbarians had a rabbit who was wearing her armor. Looking at those options, he knew what his next move had to be. "Put together a small force, lieutenant, three mammals and yourself," he said, "Bring the two of them in. And be careful. The fox might be an alchemist."
The springbok's composure broke ever so slightly at that; one of her eyebrows twitched upwards towards her curving horns. "Yessir," she said, "Should we ask them politely first?"
Bogo nodded. "At first," he said, "If they won't come along, do what you have to."
Author's Notes:
Way back in chapter 22, Bogo did order that a messenger be dispatched to Phoenix to investigate what was going on the instant he received word that communication had been cut off. Here, that messenger finally catches up with him; to be fair Bogo did leave what could reasonably be assumed to be the location where a report should be made.
The common swift is indeed a small bird compared to most birds of prey or owls, but they are remarkable fliers; a swift can stay airborne for ten months at a time. That's not a typo on my part; swifts really can go almost an entire year without ever landing. They're also the sixth-fastest known bird in flight, capable of reaching speeds of 111.6 kph (69.3 mph) in horizontal flight. As such, it shouldn't be too surprising that the bird shares its name with a word for doing something fast!
The shrew riding the swift is an Etruscan shrew, not an Arctic shrew like Mr. Big or Fru-Fru, which has the distinction of being the smallest living mammal by mass, averaging just 1.8 grams (0.063 ounces). Considering the small size of a swift, the rider has to be pretty small to not be overly burdensome for the bird. The word "mitotiqui" comes from a Nahuatl word that refers to a kind of dance, but in modern Mexican Spanish is the root for "mitote," a word that can also mean to create an uproar or a disturbance. There have been several birds in this story now, all with names in Nahuatl; I figure that it's seen as an appropriate naming convention in-universe, in much the same way that there are some names you'd give a dog but not a person.
The rank of sergeant is at about the middle of the Spanish Army's enlisted ranks; Juan is not an officer as Judy is.
Bogo is both right and wrong when he thinks that bats are slower than birds. Birds generally can fly faster than bats, but the Brazilian free-tail bat can hit 160 kph (100 mph) in level flight in brief bursts, making it faster than any bird although it's average speed is lower. While the peregrine falcon can indeed move faster, that's only in dives, not in horizontal flight.
Springboks are one of the world's fastest land animals; although not as fast as a cheetah they are often successful at escaping cheetahs when hunted. I figured it also made sense for scouts to have a lighter uniform than the rest of the City Guard; anything to make it easier for them to go faster.
As always, thanks for reading! I hope you'll enjoy seeing what comes next!