Peter Tremayne - The Dove of Death

Now, in the early-morning light, Eadulf could see archers lining the decks near the bows. He saw the familiar lines of the ship, the carved figure of the dove on its prow. It was, indeed, the Koulm ar Maro , The Dove of Death, that had attacked the Barnacle Goose . There was no disputing its lines as it turned for the attack. But Bleidbara was in charge of no undefended merchantman. His warriors were already lined up at the side with their own bows ready.

Nervously, Eadulf edged towards a position where a spar might afford him some protection from the onslaught of arrows that would undoubtedly fall on them. He had presumed that Bleidbara would run the ship alongside the Koulm ar Maro . Now he realised that Bleidbara was heading bow first towards the vessel as if to ram her. Heraclius and his companions had lifted one of the large clay balls into the sling and the young man seemed to be sighting his curious weapon as if measuring the decreasing distance between the two vessels.

‘Heraclius won’t knock a hole in that vessel with those clay balls,’ Eadulf called to Bleidbara. ‘Hasn’t he got some heavy stones to inflict more damage?’

Bleidbara glanced at him and smiled reassuringly.

‘Keep your head down, Brother Eadulf. We shall open the battle when we are three hundred metres from her.’

The Koulm ar Maro was no longer trying to turn but also coming bow first towards them in spite of the wind being entirely with Bleidbara’s vessel. It was only now that Eadulf realised that the enemy’s main deck was higher than their own, so the archers on the Koulm ar Maro had the advantage of shooting down while Bleidbara’s men would have to shoot upwards. Eadulf knew enough about warfare to be aware that this was not the best position. With a dry mouth he watched the dark strip of water closing between the two vessels.

Suddenly Bleidbara shouted to Heraclius.

The young man bent forward. Eadulf saw the mallet in his hand and heard it strike on the wooden peg. He could feel the vibration through the entire vessel as the pole with its sling released the projectile under extreme pressure. The clay ball arched upwards across the space between the two vessels, and Eadulf was bitterly disappointed to see it hit a jutting spar on the Koulm ar Maro and fall back into the sea, breaking into pieces as it did so. Then he gasped in astonishment, for even as it fragmented he saw a glint of fire — and next thing there was a patch of blazing water where the pieces of the ball had fallen in the sea. He could not believe his eyes. The seawater was on fire!

Heraclius and his team were already winching the pole back into position and another of the curious clay balls was being placed into the sling.

Bleidbara was grinning at him. ‘Heraclius calls it pyr thalassion in his own language. He translates it as liquid fire. He says that his father Callinicus was developing it in Byzantium. It gives us more advantage against these sea-raiders now.’

Eadulf was speechless. Fire that could not be put out by water? It was terrifying. Barbaric. No wonder Heraclius had been guarding the secret so closely.

There was a strange whistling sound through the air as the enemy archers released their first salvo. The range was closing and several arrows embedded themselves into the ship.

Once more Eadulf heard the bang of the hammer striking the pin and felt the slight shudder of the ship beneath him as Heraclius’ infernal weapon was released.

This time the clay ball fragmented on the forward deck of the oncoming vessel, and it erupted in flame. He could hear the cries of alarm from the enemy, saw men running forward with buckets of water. But even as he watched, he saw how the water merely pushed the flame here and there, and made no impact on dousing it.

Bleidbara’s crew let out a cheer. A sharp word from Bleidbara and they fell silent; another command and the archers lining the portside of the vessel took aim and, as one man, released their flight of arrows. Screams echoed across the water, showing that some of them had found targets.

For a third time Heraclius and his men made ready their onager and released it. This time, the terrible contents of the clay ball fell in the centre of the main deck and that was soon ablaze.

Six of the clay balls had been brought onto the deck and already Heraclius was superintending the loading of a fourth in his machine.

Bleidbara shouted to him: a call to pause. Stepping to the rail, and using his hands as a trumpet to project his voice, Bleidbara called across to the vessel where the flames were catching hold of the timbers. Eadulf presumed it was a call for the Koulm ar Maro to surrender. The answer came in a shower of arrows, one of which struck a crew member, and even as he fell, Eadulf saw he was beyond assistance.

Bleidbara signalled to Heraclius again. Once more came the ominous shudder and the projectile could be seen striking the stern of the vessel near the helm before the area erupted in flame.

Bleidbara was shouting to his own helmsman who pulled the vessel over, edging it near the burning Koulm ar Maro . Once again, he was calling on his enemy to surrender — without response. Eadulf peered into the mass of flame now spreading over its decks, trying to search out the slight figure in white that he remembered so well. There was no sign of him among those running to and fro on the deck, trying to put out the flames that roared inexorably around them. There seemed to be no one in command, for the enemy crew appeared in confusion. Some tried to put out the flames while others wielded swords in futile gestures towards the closing vessel. Others still tried to shoot their bows, seeming to get in each other’s way.

Eadulf was gazing in horror at the terrible inferno. Suddenly an awesome thought came to his mind.

‘Trifina! What if the lady Trifina is a prisoner on board?’

Bleidbara stared at him aghast, his face white despite the reflected glow of the flames. In his battle fever, he had forgotten about Trifina.

Bleidbara shouted again, yet another demand for surrender, but an arrow whistled by his face and embedded itself into a spar nearby. Had Eadulf been standing closer, it would have found a target in him. Heraclius had released yet another of his terrifying clay balls into the ship, where it burst against the central mast, the flames roaring upwards as if racing to get to the top of it.

The entire deck of the Koulm ar Maro was a hungry sea of flames. Here and there, some men were jumping overboard, some with their clothes alight — which were not put out even when the unfortunates struck the water.

Bleidbara turned to his helmsman with a swift order and the helm went over.

‘We are hauling off from her,’ he explained to Eadulf. ‘This fire is too much. We must save ourselves from her flames.’

Eadulf could still see men jumping from the decks of the sea-raider. But he saw no sign of the slight figure in white that he was hoping to spot. He prayed that Trifina was not a prisoner on that dying ship. Some of Bleidbara’s crew had brought out long wooden poles and were using them to push the ship away from the sides of the burning vessel. They swung free, their sails filling again as they clawed across the waves, distancing themselves from the blazing inferno. Within a few moments they could see little resemblance to the fighting ship that they had approached. The hungry flames were all-consuming; decks, bows and the entire hull of the vessel seemed to be one pyre of crackling flame.

Having secured the remaining clay balls below deck, Heraclius came trotting back along the deck to join Eadulf. There was a strange, rather sad expression on his face.

‘So that was what you didn’t want us to find?’ Eadulf commented dryly.