A Mighty Fortress (109 page)

Mahrdai Saigahn wheeled around in shock at the sudden eruption of cannon fire astern of him. For just a moment, his mind was completely blank, unable to grasp what it could be. Then, like the flash of Langhorne’s own
rakurai
, understanding struck, and he swore vilely.

Damn it!
Damn
it! He’d
known
there were three of them all along, and he’d let himself forget. Let himself get so focused, so concentrated on the ship alongside, that he’d completely ignored the threat of its second consort!

Even through the blinding banks of gunsmoke, he could see
Prince of Dohlar
’s masts swinging around as she fell downwind. Despite the fact that her rigging appeared intact, it was obvious she was no longer under control, which meant either her wheel or her rudder must have carried away. In either case, she was no longer able to maneuver, and Saigahn swore again as the third Charisian, main topsail briefly backed to slow her as she charged along under an insane press of canvas, poured a second raking broadside into
Prince of Dohlar
’s bows.

Even as he watched, the Charisian galleon was slicing up to lay herself between
Guardsman
and her current opponent, and Saigahn felt his belly knot at the thought of suddenly finding himself engaged at two- to- one odds. Especially twoto- one odds half of which was the completely untouched galleon which had just effectively knocked
Prince of Dohlar
out of action with just two broadsides.

“Starboard your helm!” he commanded, and
Guardsman
fell quickly off to larboard. She swung downwind, momentarily offering her stern to
Squall
, as she broke away to leeward.

It was Ahrnahld Stywyrt’s turn to swear.

Squall
was still moving faster than either
Dart
or
Guardsman
as he used her momentum to drive between the other two galleons. Even his well- drilled crew was frantically busy as gunners thundered across the deck from right to left and
Guardsman
’s abrupt turn exposed her stern. It would have been the perfect, lethal opening to rake his second opponent . . . if
Squall
’s own heading hadn’t robbed him of the opportunity. His larboard battery was loaded and ready, his starboard guncrews had gotten there in time to man the guns, but the two ships’ relative motion carried
Guardsman
outside the arc of
Squall
’s fire until she’d swung far enough to come almost parallel to her. Instead of the rake he’d
almost
achieved, the two ships passed in opposite directions, larboard- to-larboard on what amounted to reverse headings, with
Guardsman
to leeward of
Squall
. Stywyrt’s gunners were as disappointed as their captain by the lost opportunity, but they recovered quickly and poured a destructive broadside into their foe as they passed.

Guardsman
was unable to reply. She’d been engaged against
Dart
with her
starboard
battery. Her larboard guns had never been loaded or run out, and her crew was still frantically casting off lashings when
Squall
fired.

The range was much longer than the range to
Prince of Dohlar
had been, and double- shotted guns were notoriously inaccurate at anything above half- pistol shot. On the other hand,
Squall
’s gunners were very good, and
Guardsman
staggered amid a chorus of screams as a fresh hurricane of iron blasted into her.

Mahrdai Saigahn was no coward, or he would never have been hand picked by the Earl of Thirsk as one of his first galleon commanders. Yet he was no more immune to the effects of surprise than the next man, and he felt something entirely too much like panic as the Charisian broadside crashed into his ship.

Stop it!
he commanded himself fiercely.
Yes, you let the bastards sneak up on you. Accept that—and
deal
with it!

He shook his head, like a man shaking off a punch to the jaw, then drew a deep breath and looked around, assessing the situation.

How did it go to shit so quickly?
he wondered a moment later.

Prince of Dohlar
was drifting on the wind, completely out of control. She’d cleared the worst of the smoke, as had
Guardsman
on her present course, and Saigahn could see her clearly now. Not that it was much comfort; judging from the chaos on her decks and the bodies hanging in her tops and draped over her hammock nettings, she must have been hit extraordinarily hard by the Charisian’s two broadsides. Worse, there was no evidence of any organized response to her difficulties, and Captain Zhermain was too good, too competent, for things to be . . . drifting that way if he were still on his feet.

That was bad enough, but
Grand Vicar Mahrys
was even farther downwind than
Prince of Dohlar
or
Guardsman
herself. Unlike Zhermain’s ship, Rohsail clearly had
Grand Vicar Mahrys
under command, but her rigging had been severely damaged. It looked as if even Rohsail had had enough, and as Saigahn saw the streams of red oozing down her sides, human blood literally running from her scuppers, he didn’t blame the other captain one bit. And, just to make Saigahn’s day complete,
Rakurai
was making clumsily off to leeward, as best she could without foremast or headsails, as well.

Which meant that, in effect, his own
Guardsman
and Krahl’s
Bedard
were the only effective Dohlaran galleons left.

He looked back astern, where
Squall
had altered course yet again, coming up alongside
Dart
. Even as Saigahn watched, the Charisian flagship’s fore top-gallant and fore royal seemed to bend forward slowly, buckling into the smoke in a welter of snapping shrouds and stays. No one had been firing at her at the moment, so it had to be the result of cumulative damage, but Saigahn wasn’t about to complain.

More guns thundered from the southwest, and he turned his attention that way to see
Bedard
breaking off, as well. Ahndair Krahl was maintaining a brisk fire on his larger opponent, but his true purpose was clearly to cover his own wounded flagship until she could get clear.

And what the hell do
we
do?
Mahrdai Saigahn asked himself harshly.

Harys Aiwain watched
Bedard
veering away. Instinct urged him to follow up, crowding the smaller ship and pounding her into submission. Or at least driving her off while he finished his business with the Dohlaran flagship.

Unfortunately, he still didn’t know what was happening astern of him. What he
could
see was that
Dart
’s fore topgallant and fore royal had gone by the board, leaving the flagship all but dismasted. Combined with the heavy casualties he already knew Pawal’s company had suffered,
Dart
would be all but helpless if anyone managed to get to grips with her. And while it was obvious Stywyrt had finally been able to bring
Squall
into action—apparently with crushing effectiveness—Aiwain had no idea how badly damaged
Guardsman
or
Prince of Dohlar
might actually be.

He looked farther down to leeward and saw several columns of smoke rising from the sea. It looked as if
Flash
and
Mace
had managed to get to grips with the convoy, after all. He doubted they’d managed to pick off more than a few of the coasters before the others scattered, but some was better than none.

Yes, it is
, he thought.
And, yes, you’d really like to finish at least one of the bastards off. But
Dart
’s been shot to shit; you’ve got more than enough dead and wounded of your own; we’re the better part of a thousand miles even from Trove Island; and there’s no telling when
another
squadron of these bloody- minded bastards is going to turn up
.

He grimaced unhappily at his unpalatable conclusion. Unfortunately, he couldn’t dispute his own logic.

Stywyrt watched
Guardsman
making more sail.

She was clearly running, and under the circumstances, much as he might have liked to, Stywyrt couldn’t really fault her skipper’s thinking. At the very least, he needed to get clear while he figured out what was going on.

And when he does, they’re going to go on running
, Stywyrt decided.

Two of their ships had suffered heavy damage aloft, whereas
Squall
’s and
Shield
’s rigging was still effectively intact. They’d want to protect their cripples, and Stywyrt had no idea how close Dohlaran reinforcements might be. It was possible this wasn’t the only squadron Thirsk had sent to sea. In which case, their “fleeing” opponents might “just happen” to lead them straight into an ambush.

Under the circumstances, he was willing to let them run if they were willing to do the running. Besides, he had
Dart
to worry about, and then there was
Prince of Dohlar
. She still hadn’t been brought back under control, which suggested
Squall
’s fire had been even more effective than Stywyrt had been prepared to assume. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to recover at any moment, though, and if she did, she could well pose a serious threat to the crippled Charisian flagship.

Best to make sure of her
, he decided.
She’s our wyvern, after all!

He grinned at the thought, then gave himself a shake.

“Very well, Master Mahldyn,” he said. “Prepare to put the ship about, if you please.” He twitched his head in
Prince of Dohlar
’s direction. “I believe we have a prize to collect.”

HMS
Empress of Charis
, 50,