The bow shield bellied again under the impact of a new rocket volley. Again, the boom, almost like a drum; and, again, two missiles caromed by. And, again, exploded harmlessly over the waves.
Antonina, scanning right and left as she stared toward the stern of the flagship, was relieved by what she saw. The Ethiopian ship captains had already recognized the same danger and were responding. Charax's delta was several miles wide, giving plenty of sea room. The Axumite ships, advancing in a single line, were already spreading out.
Antonina watched several more rockets bounce off the shields on other ships and skitter past the entire formation. The angle of the shields, she realized, was so acute that only the worst possible luck could cause a rocket to carom sideways.
"The main thing," Ousanas continued-unlike Antonina, he had not bothered to watch the trajectories-"is that almost all the incoming rockets will be harmless. Once we get in ramming range, they'll stop firing."
He chuckled grimly. "Not even a fanatic Mahaveda priest will want to be in the bow of a ship plunging in for a ram."
Antonina turned back and hunkered lower. She studied the figure of Gersem in the bow. The new Dakuen commander, still peering intently through a slit in the shield, suddenly seemed very young.
Ousanas, apparently, could read minds. "Relax. I picked him, even though he's the most junior of the sub-officers, because he's also the best seaman."
"Says who?" demanded Antonina. "You know as much about boats as I do about-"
"Says all the other sub-officers," came the serene reply. Ousanas stretched out his arms, pointing to the Axumite ships ranging alongside them to both port and starboard.
"That's true on all of them. Existing commanders, of course, weren't replaced. But until the boarding starts, command of each of those ships is in the hands of the most capable captain. Rank be damned."
Mention of "boarding" focused Antonina's mind elsewhere. She turned and smiled sweetly at Matthew.
"I forgive you. Now, please bring me my gun."
It was Ousanas' turn to scowl. "What do you need that thing for?" he demanded. "You aren't going to be storming across any decks."
Antonina shook her head. "Certainly not!" Again, she smiled sweetly. "Whole idea's absurd. Unladylike."
Matthew returned with his mission accomplished. Antonina cradled the monstrous weapon, like a beloved child.
"But you never know," she said serenely. "Shit happens, in a battle."
Ousanas, plain to see, was not a happy man. But he made no further protest. What counter-argument could he advance? Antonina had just pronounced the oldest of all veteran wisdoms. "Shit happens," Matthew and Leo echoed, like a Greek chorus.
Antonina saw Gersem grow tense. Tense. Tense.
She held her breath. She couldn't see a blessed thing forward, but she knew the line of twelve Axumite ships had almost met the fifteen Malwa vessels charging toward them. By now, the enemy would be up to full ramming speed.
Held her breath. Held her breath.
"Relax," said Ousanas. He seemed as stolidly serene as a lump of granite. "O ye of little faith. Malwa galleys? In an open fight at sea-against Axumites?"
He raised his head, like a wolf baying at the moon. "Ha!"
That cry of derision blended into Gersem's sudden shouting command.
Within a minute, both the derision and the stolid serenity proved justified. And Antonina, once again, made a solemn vow not to meddle in the affairs of professionals.
Gersem timed the order perfectly. The Malwa galley driving straight upon them-bow against bow-was within yards of a collision. The Ethiopian warship, with experienced rowers and steersman, suddenly skittered aside. Then, at Gersem's new command, drove it forward in a quick lunge. And then-new command, bellowed-the rowers on the ship's starboard side lifted their oars straight up in a quick and coordinated motion. The maneuver was a perfectly executed diekplous, as the tactic was called by the Rhodians who were the Mediterranean's finest naval forces.
Disaster struck their Malwa opponent. The captain of that ship, as was true of all Malwa captains, was inexperienced in sea battle. Inexperienced, at least, against a real navy. As powerful as the Malwa Empire was, it rarely faced a challenge at sea from other kingdoms. The principal duty of the Malwa Empire's navy was to protect its merchant ships against pirates.
Arrogance and brute force are a splendid way to deal with pirates. They are poor methods, however, against one of the finest navies in the world.
The Malwa ship came driving in at full ramming speed. The Malwa captain, seeing that his opponent's vessel had no ram, was almost chortling with glee. He would split the enemy's prow in half, back away, and then finish them off with rockets. Once crippled, the enemy craft would no longer be able to hide behind that bizarre and infernally effective shield.
At the last possible moment, the Malwa captain ordered his rowers to slow the ship. No captain in his right mind will ram at full speed. The force of the collision might rupture his own bow. At the very least, his ram would be driven too deeply for extraction. Proper ramming tactics require: a full-speed lunge to get within ramming range as soon as possible; a sudden slowing of the ship with backthrust oars; then, in the last few feet, a simple collision. Ram splits hull, but is not wedged; back off, repeat if necessary.
Good tactics, classic tactics. But the Malwa captain never considered the possibility that his opponent would know those tactics just as well, have long since determined the proper counter, and have a captain, and rowers, and a steersman who were far superior to himself and his crew.
At Gersem's command, the Ethiopian ship sidled away from the ram. By the time the Malwa captain realized he was going to miss his strike, Gersem had ordered his ship into a forward lunge. The Malwa captain began screaming new commands to his confused rowers and steersman-
It was too late. The diekplous was done. The Malwa galley drifted inexorably forward. The Ethiopian ship, oars raised out of harm's way, drove down the side of the Malwa craft not more than two feet distant-starboard against starboard, practically scraping the hulls-smashing and shattering every Malwa oar it encountered. Which, given the Malwa crew's confusion and inexperience, was almost all of them.
The Malwa galley, as a vessel, was instantly crippled. Even worse was the damage to the crew. The oarbutts, flailing and splintering and hammering, killed only one man outright. But almost half of the Malwa galley's starboard rowers suffered broken bones, cracked skulls, and crushed ribs-and all of them were bruised and stunned. All order and discipline in the vessel collapsed, as the shouting commands of the officers were buried under screams and groans.
The port-side rowers gaped at the scene. And then, gaped wider at the sight of two five-inch cannon barrels approaching. Seconds later, many of those gaping mouths were swept out of existence entirely. Axumite marines were pouring over the side before the smoke cleared. Again, the murderous cry erupted: Ta'akha Maryam! Ta'akha Maryam!
The combat which followed lasted not more than five minutes. Six Malwa sailors escaped by diving over the side. One of them, a good swimmer in superb physical condition, would make it to the bank of the delta several miles away. The rest would drown, sharing the grim fate of their fellow crewmen.
In Charax's delta, Malwa would get no more mercy from Ethiopia than it had gotten from Rome in the city itself.
Antonina, huddling safely in the hull of her flagship, clasped the handcannon more tightly still. It was not fear which produced those whitened knuckles. Simply horror, at the sounds of unseen butchery not more than fifteen feet away. Cries of fury; cries of pain. Spears splitting flesh; sundering bone. Soft groans, and hissing agony, and death gurgling into silence.