“Not in this case. Every chance Ghassan’s had to take me on, he’s hit us by surprise and tried to trap us. He likes to think he’s better than us, because he’s working for the government, but we’re going to extend him courtesies he wouldn’t to us.”
“But why?”
“Because,” Samir grinned, “when I steal his cargo and sink his ship, I want him to know he had every chance and we were simply better.”
The artillerist shrugged.
“It’s your ship, captain.”
Turning away, he issued the commands to his men and the fire thrower was loaded and aimed quickly and efficiently. While they worked, Samir strode back to the bow. How the hell could Ghassan not see them? Alright the Empress had the sun at her back, but Ghassan was better than this, so there must be something else going on. Briefly, Samir wondered if his brother had laid some sort of elaborate trap, but there was nowhere close enough to hide another vessel. The archipelago was just too far away.
Shading his eyes, he peered at the naval ship, drawing ever closer. In minutes they would be on her and she just sat there like a dead fish, floating on the surface.
“Do you think…”
He was interrupted by a wave of the hand from the lookout, who pointed urgently. Focusing on the enemy ship, he saw signs of urgent activity. The deck burst into life and, as he watched, three banks of oars slid out of the sides of the hull and dropped into the water in perfect time.
“Ah. He’s seen us. Now we can get this fight underway.”
The yards raced by as the Empress closed on her prey. As they bounced from crest to crest at tremendous speed, Samir smiled and watched the cumbersome ship begin to turn.
“She’s coming for us now. For a moment I thought they might run, but Ghassan wants me.”
He blinked as he watched the motion before him.
“They’re using the oars to steer. The rudder must be broken… that’s why they were just sitting there.”
He turned to the lookout.
“How mean are you feeling, Col?”
The young man grinned.
“I’m always feeling mean as a sack of rats, captain. You know that.”
His captain returned the grin and called over his shoulder to the artillerist.
“Baeso? He’s coming at us head on. If you’re as good as you reckon, give me a shot along their port side with the heaviest load you’ve got, at the rear for preference.”
The man nodded without question and, making a few quick mental calculations, adjusted the range and angle of the weapon.
“Ready when you are, sir.”
“By all means, Mr. Baeso. Do some damage.”
The shot was, even for Baeso’s high standards, expertly aimed and launched. Samir watched with no small amount of pride as the largest sack of boulders available in the turret was cast up and over the water with a massive thump and a roar. As with all such shots, the bag was designed to hold the ammunition together for only so long. By the time the sack had covered half the distance to the oncoming ship, it had split and the four heavy boulders were now streaking independently toward the Wind of God.
The first boulder hit the rail at the edge of the main deck close to the bow, sending shards of shattered timber and lethal foot-long splinters scything along the deck at waist height and causing a number of horrifying casualties. The second rock disappeared into the sea off the port side with a fountain of roaring foam. The other two boulders, however, ran true. The first hit the top bank of oars midway along the ship, snapping and cracking the wooden shafts and bouncing along the horizontal line of poles, smashing and shattering, until it disappeared with a splash. The last shot arced over, beyond the other three and came down with a crash through the steering oars, smashing them to pieces.
Desperate commands were being shouted over on the other ship, and the hull lurched and veered violently to port, presenting a board target to the Empress.
“This is too easy, Col.”
Turning, he gestured with familiar signals to the artillerist, who nodded and, with the help of his men, loaded another huge sack onto the catapult while another crewman lit the next mass on the fire thrower.
Without bothering to watch them, Samir signalled with his arm for them to fire when ready. There was a straining noise and then a heavy thump. As Samir watched, another expertly-aimed shot sent the bag flying in a high arc, much higher than the last. At its apex, the sack split open and a cluster of iron weights, sharp shards of metal and glass, and rods with pointed ends showered the naval vessel, tearing through the sails, splitting ropes, destroying the rigging and effectively crippling the enemy’s ability to make sail.
Simultaneously, the fire thrower launched the ball of flaming material directly at the centre of the enemy ship. As Samir watched the flaming mass bear down on its target, he realised with a start that Ghassan’s men had also launched their artillery. Not prepared yet for fire, they had relied on the catapult and the bolt thrower while crewmen presumably fetched the fire ammunition from secure storage. A two foot long iron bolt shot past Samir as he blinked in surprise, went straight through the chest of the junior officer behind him and continued on along the deck with such force that it decapitated another man and impaled a third, lodging itself in his chest and pinning him to the wooden housing at the rear.
It had been a lucky shot. The catapult attack was less so. Unable to get a clear aim with their listing and bucking vessel, the bag of boulders flew past, high above the deck. One of the boulders clipped the main mast while another ripped a section of rigging to shreds, but the damage was minimal.
Pulling himself upright once more in the wake of the assault, Samir noted with satisfaction that the central artillery tower of the naval ship was wreathed in a fire that was beginning to spread up the ropes.
“Heave to!” bellowed Samir and the crew began working like fury to arrest the ship’s forward momentum. He nodded. They had to slow now or they would ram the enemy. Ghassan’s ship was done for now, and Samir had no intention of allowing the Empress to go down with her.
He winced as he realised what was about to happen and put up his hands to guard himself just in case. As he took a deep breath, the combustible shot that had been brought from storage to the naval ship’s artillery section succumbed to the heat of the flames dancing around it.
An explosion burst up like a sickly yellow mushroom at the centre of the enemy ship. Shards of wood flew in every direction and the billowing flames rushed up the edge of the sails as they caught. There was no hope now for Ghassan’s ship. Most of his marines had been close to the explosion at the centre of the main deck. Samir would estimate their numbers at perhaps thirty on a standard vessel. A dozen at most made it to the rail, trailing flames and black roiling smoke as they dived over the edge and into the blessed water.
Samir sighed. He hadn’t quite meant for that much damage. They would have perhaps five minutes before the vessel sank; certainly not enough time to loot the thing, not that Ghassan would be likely to have much worth taking.
As he stood, his gaze danced nervously around the enemy deck among the flames and the chaos, trying to spot Ghassan. Though he’d not really intended to cause so much death and injury, there was one man on that ship that he particularly did not want to see flaming and sizzling as he tried to reach the safety of the water.
The Empress slowed as she neared the blazing ship and finally came to a halt perhaps thirty yards from the wallowing mess.
Samir sagged and, though he kept his countenance carefully hidden from his own men, a smile of relief crossed his face as he spotted Ghassan stride straight-backed and formal from the cabin doorway.
What he wasn’t prepared for was the fact that his brother was dragging another person by the arm; a woman no less. Samir frowned. What in the seven faces of Ha’Rish was a woman doing on board a navy ship. He turned.