Off Armageddon Reef (86 page)

Merlin nodded slowly. He wasn't at all certain he agreed with everything Cayleb had just said, but the decisiveness it reflected was typical of what he was coming to expect out of the youthful heir to the throne.

As far as the effect on Tarot and King Gorjah was concerned, he probably had an excellent point, Merlin reflected. It was the other side of it Merlin found worrisome. Yes, it might make it more difficult for the Group of Four to marshal the forces for their next attack, but the stark ruthlessness of Cayleb's expressed attitude might also provoke a matching response from future opponents.

Still
, Merlin asked himself,
how much worse could it get? Cayleb's absolutely right about what the Group of Four wanted to happen to Charis
this
time
.
Is it really likely their objectives are going to get
less
extreme after their tools got hammered this way the first time around?

“Well,” he said aloud, “at least Thirsk accepted instead of forcing your hand.”

“Yes.” Cayleb nodded. “And you were right this morning when you suggested offering him the option of putting his men ashore on Opal Island, instead of the mainland. Personally, I don't think I'd find putting Crag Reach between me and the demons he expects his people to be so worried about would be all that reassuring. But I'm just as glad
they'll
find it that way, if it makes them happier about accepting and means I don't have to kill them all after all.”

“I'm glad to have been of service,” Merlin said dryly. “And, now that he's accepted, what are your other plans?”

“Well,” Cayleb said slowly, turning to look out across the water at the tree-covered slopes of Opal Island's three thousand-plus square miles, “I'd really prefer to head back home immediately. But if
Typhoon
's as badly damaged as you say, she's going to need time for repairs. We've got damage to other ships, as well, and all of us used a lot of powder and shot. We need to get
Traveler
and
Summer Moon
in here and replenish our ammunition. And I'm thinking that before we burn Thirsk's galleys, we'll strip them of anything we can use, as well—especially spare spars, lumber, cordage and canvas, that sort of thing—then stay here long enough to complete at least our major repairs.”

“Is that wise?” Merlin asked in a deliberately neutral tone.

“I'll discuss it with Domynyk, get his suggestions and advice, of course,” Cayleb said, “but I don't think we have a lot of choice. We can't leave just one or two ships here to repair by themselves, not when Thirsk's going to have several thousand men right here on Opal Island to try something with. So, either we burn our worst-damaged ships right along with the galleys—which, much though I don't want to, may turn out to be our best choice—or else we all stay here long enough to repair them and take them with us when we leave.”

The crown prince shrugged unhappily.

“I'm not delighted with either option, Merlin. But whatever we do, we're still the better part of a month's hard sail away from Charis. Taking another five-day or two to make repairs isn't going to add very much to how long it takes us to get home. And, for that matter, Hektor and Nahrmahn won't be expecting Malikai for almost another month, anyway. Your own ‘visions' say they're still waiting under the original timetable, and they aren't going to be that surprised if Malikai and his fleet are later even than that. Not after traveling that far in Dohlaran galleys.

“So, unless Domynyk comes up with some compelling argument which hasn't already occurred to me, I think it's more important for us to fully repair all of our surviving galleons than it is to try to get home a couple of five-days earlier.”

Merlin gazed across the hammock nettings as the southern tip of Opal Island passed slowly to port.

The schooner
Spy
led the line of Charisian ships, moving with saucy grace as her more ponderous consorts followed heavily in her wake. The summer sun shone brightly out of a blue sky polished by a handful of fair-weather cumulus clouds, while torrents of the gulls, puffins, and sea wyverns which nested in the cliffs of Crag Hook circled and dove. A gentle surf broke against Sand Islet, off the port bow, and the lower line of cliffs leading the way to Bald Rock Head, to starboard.

Nothing, he thought, could have presented a greater contrast to their arrival in Crag Reach.

“I can't say I'm sorry to be going,” Cayleb remarked from beside him, and Merlin turned his head to look at the prince.

Cayleb wore a tunic and trousers, not the armor and helmet he'd worn that violence-wracked night, and he ran a hand over his bare head as he, too, looked across at Opal Island.

“You do realize this is going to go down as one of the greatest naval battles in the history of the world, don't you?” Merlin said quizzically.

“And rightly so, I suppose.” Cayleb shrugged. “On the other hand, I did have certain…unfair advantages.”

He smiled, and Merlin smiled back.

“I do feel sorry for Thirsk, though,” Merlin said after a moment, his smile fading. “You were right when you said he deserved a better cause to serve.”

“He'd be more likely to find one of those if he'd find a better
king
,” Cayleb said tartly. “Trust me. That's something I know a little about.”

“Yes, you do.”

Merlin turned his eyes back to the island's forested slopes. Earl Thirsk and his survivors should be just fine until someone sent the necessary ships to take them home again. Opal had plenty of fresh water, they'd already erected sufficient shelter, especially for the summer, and landed enough provisions to carry them for at least six months, even if they were unable to add anything by hunting and fishing. And Cayleb had relented, just a bit, and left a small store of captured matchlocks and arbalests on the beach when his ships weighed anchor this morning.

Of course, what's going to happen to Thirsk when he gets
home
may be something else entirely,
Merlin thought grimly.
He's the senior Dohlaran admiral who's coming home after the worst naval disaster in Dohlar's history, and what I've seen of King Rahnyld suggests he's going to be looking for scapegoats, more than explanations.

He thought about it for a moment longer, then put the matter of Earl Thirsk's future away and leaned out across the hammock nettings to look back at the line of sails following along astern of
Dreadnought
.

The last thick, dark pillars of smoke from over fifty blazing ships still trailed across the sky, following the galleon fleet out of its anchorage. The line of ships looked impressive and proud after two five-days of repairs, with the brooms lashed to the heads of their main topgallant masts. Cayleb had laughed out loud when Merlin suggested that gesture and explained the symbolism behind it, but then he'd sobered as he realized how apt it was. His galleons certainly
had
swept the sea clean of their enemies.

Merlin's lips twitched in a remembered smile of his own, but then it faded, for three sails were missing, and he felt a fresh stab of grief for the schooner
Wyvern
.

He didn't know what had happened to her. She'd been there, riding the fury of the gale, in one SNARC pass; in the next, she'd simply been gone. He'd been able to locate no survivors of her ninety-man crew, not even any wreckage.

Then there was
Dragon
, lost so spectacularly in the final stage of the Crag Reach action. And HMS
Lightning
, one of the converted merchantmen, from Sir Domynyk Staynair's column, had taken more damage in the action off Rock Point then Merlin had first thought. She'd made it to the rendezvous in the lee of Samuel Island with the rest of Staynair's ships, but then she'd slowly foundered over the course of that long, stormy night. The good news was that they'd at least gotten almost all her people safely off before she finally went down.

Typhoon
's repairs had taken the full two five-days Cayleb had predicted, but she had a brand new mainmast, and the rest of the fleet had made good use of the time it had taken to replace the original. They'd replenished their water from Opal Island, their provisions from captured stores, and their magazines and shot lockers from
Traveler
and
Summer Moon
, and all of the other galleons had been able to repair their own battle damages while Captain Stywyrt worked on his. The survivors from
Dragon
and
Lightning
had been distributed throughout the rest of the fleet, making up the worst of their personnel losses, as well, so at least all of the surviving galleons were combat-ready.

“I wish we could have gotten out of here sooner,” Cayleb muttered. The prince was talking to himself, but Merlin's hearing was rather more acute than most, and he gave Cayleb another look.

“You were the one who said we needed to make good our damages,” he pointed out. “You had a point. And Domynyk agreed with you.”

“But you didn't,” Cayleb said, turning to face him fully while the steady, gentle breeze ruffled his hair.

“I didn't
disagree
, either,” Merlin responded, and shrugged. “You were right when you pointed out that there wasn't a perfect decision. Somebody had to choose, and you happen to be the Crown Prince around here.”

“I know,” Cayleb sighed. For just a moment, he looked twice his age, then he shook himself and produced a wry smile. “You know, usually being Crown Prince is a pretty good job. But there are times when it's really not so much fun.”

“So I've observed. But the important thing, I suppose, is that you need to remember you
are
the one who has to make the decisions, and you aren't usually going to have lots of time to sit around and ponder them. By and large, the people who're going to second-guess and criticize you after the fact are going to be doing it from someplace nice and safe, with all the advantages of hindsight and plenty of time to think about what
you
did wrong.”

“That's more or less what Father's said, once or twice,” Cayleb said.

“Well, he's right. And the good news, you know, is that when you do get it right, like the decision to go straight into Crag Reach, you also get all the credit for it.” Merlin grinned. “Just think—now you're a certified military genius!”

“Yeah, sure.” Cayleb rolled his eyes. “And I can already hear Father cutting me back down to size when I get too full of myself over it, too!”