Another volley of rockets. Six rockets, six misses-but the jeer from the pirates was notably more subdued. The Arab craft were now less than two hundred yards away. A few Arab archers loosed shafts, but their arrows fell short of the mark.
“Weaklings,” sneered Anastasius. The giant Thracian drew his great bow. Belisarius almost winced, watching. The general had tried to draw that bow, once. Tried and failed miserably, for all that Belisarius was a strong man.
Powerful as he was, Anastasius was actually not a great archer. He had nothing like the skill with a bow possessed by Valentinian. But, aiming at those closely packed, mobbed vessels, it hardly mattered. His arrow sailed across the distance and plunged into the crowd aboard one ship. A shriek was heard.
“Most blessed arrow!” cried Ousanas. “Graced by God Himself!”
Anastasius grinned. Valentinian snorted.
“He’s not praising you, stupid. He’s saying you were lucky.”
Anastasius frowned at Ousanas. The dawazz shook his head sadly.
“Valentinian tells false lie. Very wicked Roman man! Not said you were lucky. Said you stood most high in Deity’s esteem.”
“See?” demanded Valentinian.
Anastasius gestured angrily. “Let’s see you do any better!” he demanded.
Ousanas grinned. “Too far. Arrows cheap as dirt. Javelins precious. Very important point in theology. God wanton with His blessings on arrows. Stingy with javelins.”
The dawazz pointed to the easternmost craft.
“You see him steersman? That ship?”
Anastasius nodded.
Again, Ousanas shook his head sadly. “Him great sinner. Soon be taken by Shaitan.”
“How soon?” demanded Anastasius.
“Soon as skill allow. Javelin weapon of skill. God very stingy with javelin. Miser, almost.”
Anastasius snorted and turned away. Again, he drew his bow. Again, his arrow found a mark in the crowd.
The pirates drew closer. There had been no rocket volleys for some time, but now another six were fired off. Belisarius noted that the kshatriyas manning the rockets had adjusted the angle of the firing troughs. Where before the bamboo half-barrels had been tilted upward, they were now almost level.
These rockets did not soar upward like a javelin. They sped in a more or less flat trajectory barely a few feet above the water. And they struck with devastating impact. At that range, they could hardly miss. Belisarius was fascinated to see one rocket hit the sea at a shallow angle and then bounce back upward, like a flat-thrown stone skipping across water. That rocket did as much damage as any when it slammed into the bow of an Arab ship.
Almost half of the pirate fleet had now been struck by the missiles. Two ships were listing badly and had ceased their forward motion. Two others were burning furiously, and their crews were jumping overboard.
But it was obvious the Arabs had no intention of breaking off the attack. The pirate vessels now began to scatter, spreading out in such a way as to give less of a massed target for the rockets. The sailors on the surviving galleys helped those who had jumped from stricken ships to clamber aboard.
Five pirate vessels were now sinking or burning out of control, and at least one other seemed out of the action. But Belisarius did not think that the actual number of warriors had been significantly reduced. Most of those who had jumped into the sea had been taken aboard other vessels. The remaining craft were now jammed with men.
Another volley of rockets was fired. All of them but one missed, however, soaring through the space now vacated by the galleys. Even the one which struck a ship simply glanced off harmlessly. That rocket continued to soar across the sea until, suddenly, it erupted in a ball of flame and smoke.
Belisarius scratched his chin. It occurred to him that the rockets did not actually seem to- explode — on contact. He remembered, now, that several of the rockets had exploded a few seconds after striking a ship. The effect had been the same, however, for the force of their flight had driven the rockets right through the thin planking of the Arab ships. And, regardless of the timing of the explosions, the rockets burned so fiercely that they almost invariably set the ships afire.
Still “With the right armor and tactics,” he mused aloud, “I don’t think these rockets would be all that dangerous.”
Valentinian turned to him with a questioning look.
“Play hell with horses, General,” commented the cataphract.
“True,” agreed Belisarius. “Those shrieking hisses and explosions would panic the brutes. No way to control them.” Suddenly, he grinned. “I do believe the infantry has just made a great comeback!”
“Shit,” muttered Anastasius. “He’s right.”
Valentinian groaned. “I hate walking.”
“ You hate it?” demanded Anastasius. “You haven’t got an ounce of fat on you! How do you think I feel?”
Garmat interrupted worriedly. “Night has almost fallen.”
It was true enough. It was still barely possible to make out the intact pirate ships in the gathering darkness, but not by much.
“New moon, too,” added Eon. “There won’t be any light at all in a few minutes.”
Another volley of rockets was fired. Belisarius noted that the kshatriyas had angled all six of the troughs around so that all of the rockets were fired toward a single ship. Even so, only one of the rockets struck. Fortunately, the missile hit directly amidships and exploded with a satisfying roar. That vessel, clearly enough, was doomed.
Just before the last glimmer of daylight faded, it was possible to see the pirate galleys beginning to surround the Indian ship. They were now keeping a distance, however, waiting for nightfall. Between that distance, and being widely spread out, it was obvious that the rockets were no longer of much use.
Two more wasted volleys made the point before Venandakatra began calling out new orders. Immediately, three of the rocket crews began transferring their troughs to the starboard rail of the ship. For their part, the three remaining rocket crews began spacing their troughs more widely down the port length of the ship. The Malwa, it was obvious, were positioning the rocket launchers to repel boarders.
Venandakatra shouted new orders. Listening, Belisarius could begin to understand the meaning. He realized that the jewel was once again working its strange magic. The Malwa language was called Hindi, and Belisarius knew not a word of it. But, suddenly, the language came into focus in his mind. The shrill words spoken by several kshatriyas in response to Venandakatra’s commands were as clear as day.
“The Indian rocket-men are not happy,” whispered Garmat. “They are complaining that-”
“They will be burned if they do as Venandakatra orders,” completed Belisarius absently.
The Axumite adviser was startled. “I did not realize you spoke Hindi.”
Belisarius began to reply, closed his mouth. Garmat, again, was staring at him strangely.
I’m going to have to come up with an explanation for him, when this is all over. Damn all shrewd advisers, anyway!
Venandakatra shouted down the protests. His Mahaveda priests added their own comments, prominent among them the promise to bring the mahamimamsa “purifiers” from the hold below.
The kshatriyas snarled, but hurried to obey. All of the troughs were now tilted until they were pointing at a slight angle downward. More hide bundles were piled up at the rear of the troughs, but it was obvious from the kshatriyas’ worried frowns that they did not think the hides would suffice to completely shield them from the rocket flames. The fire which would erupt from the rocket tails would now be shooting upward.
Another alien thought seeped through the barrier. back-blast.
Darkness was now complete, except for the faint light thrown by the few lanterns held by Ye-tai warriors. Belisarius saw Venandakatra staring at him. A moment later, with obvious reluctance, the Indian lord made his way toward the bow of the ship.