James Barclay - Beyond the Mists of Katura

Takaar wasn’t sure what he meant. He’d laid it all out already. There was nothing more to say; they needed to prepare, rest if they could and focus their minds on how to build impenetrable shields against darker earth energies.

‘You all know what to do,’ said Takaar.

He waved them aside to make a path for him back to the base of the mainmast where Aviana was in communication with her sisters, one on each ship. He ignored the mutterings of the adepts as he passed, leaving Drech to attempt to pacify the fearful. It hardly mattered. In a short time they would either learn or they would die.

Takaar knelt by Aviana. She looked calm, her breathing was measured and her eyes were open.

‘What news?’ asked Takaar.

‘Manoeuvres will begin in an hour. We’re going to lead the second pair. Auum’s ship is the lead of the first pair. The skippers need shielding from mast tip to keel on the open sides. We are to keep out of the way of the sailors, and sit beneath the rails if we cannot sit below decks. We are being advised to move now. Some of the crews need to do final drills.’

Takaar nodded. ‘Then let’s move you first. Captain’s quarters, I think, beneath the wheel deck. Whatever happens, don’t lose contact. We’ll prevail, I promise you.’

Aviana nodded. ‘What can I report back?’

‘Acknowledge all your latest messages. We’ll do all that is asked. Say that the TaiGethen are praying and applying camouflage. Tell Auum we’re ready.’

The small elven fleet had split into two pairs. Esteren had taken his vessel, Soul of Yniss , and the Spirit of Tual on a long port tack. The second pair, Gyaam’s Blessing and Capricious continued on the starboard tack and would pass well in front of the oncoming fleet. The timing of their return tacks, to bring them into the enemy flanks, was going to be crucial.

Auum and Ulysan were back in the crow’s nest alongside Selas, who was providing a running commentary of their position relative to the enemy. They were still well to the north-west. If Auum was any judge, Selas had an extraordinary eye for distance and speed.

Auum watched the enemy, who could no doubt see them but would not know an attack was planned. After all, they would assume that the ships they could see were merchantmen giving them a wide berth. Their ships were grouped loosely into two rows and Selas estimated their spacing to be at least a hundred yards on any side. That gave the elven ships room to get among them should the humans decide that continuing at best speed was preferable to engaging.

‘They’ll try to close up when they realise we’re attacking, but that’s risky in itself,’ she had told them. ‘It takes a good deal of skill to sail that close without collision or losing speed, so it might work to our advantage.’

Down on deck the crew readied themselves for the tack to starboard. Teams waited by the sheets lashed to cleats running down both sides of the three-masted vessel. Esteren was running as much canvas as possible — no spar was unadorned — and the ship was a magnificent sight.

With the exception of Cleress and one other adept, who were seated right in front of the wheel, no Il-Aryn or TaiGethen were on deck, leaving the crew free to perform the manoeuvre.

‘Is this going to work?’ asked Auum.

‘Why wouldn’t it?’ said Ulysan. ‘Four against ten; we’re going to drive each ship between two enemies and then get our people to jump across the frothing water into the teeth of shaman magic and enemy blades. What could possibly go wrong?’

‘Who is it you lack faith in?’ asked Selas. ‘My sailors, the Il-Aryn or your warriors?’

Auum saw the mischievous glint in her eye.

‘Big ships are hard to turn,’ said Auum. ‘And hard to shield.’

Selas smiled. ‘It’s not so hard, just a tack and some twitches of the wheel. Look, the Spirit and the Blessing will tack on to a reach so they’ll have pace when they move across the front rank of ships. All they have to do is find the angle up between the two outside pairs.

‘For us and the Capricious , it’s a little more tricky. We’ll both be close hauled and making two knots at best, so our tack timing is really important if we’re to sail in between the front and rear ranks. And then to point up further into the wind to pass between the outside pairs. . well, that’s why Esteren is here. You and your Il-Aryn need to be ready, though. It’s going to be tough with magic flying in from port and starboard. You won’t have much time to jump the gap.’

‘I’m glad you’re confident,’ said Auum.

‘If the shields stay up, we’ll be all right,’ said Selas. ‘It’s a shame our Il-Aryn can’t deal out damage, though, isn’t it?’

‘Today, I agree with you,’ said Auum. ‘Mostly, I pray to Yniss that they never work out how to kill with magic.’

‘One moment,’ said Selas. ‘Here we go. . Skipper! Angle closed. Speed, five knots. Distance on tack, two nautical.’

‘Ready about!’ roared Esteren. The bosun relayed the message. Crews snapped to attention up and down the vessel. ‘Lee-ho! Helm, hard a-starboard.’

‘Hard a-starboard, aye.’

Soul of Yniss began to move up into the wind. On the deck sheets were loosed and fifteen sails spilled the wind. Crew on the starboard side began hauling on their sheets, dragging sails into position to catch the breeze. Team leaders called out the hauling rhythm, their teams singing the riposte to each line.

‘Not fast enough!’ yelled Esteren. ‘Burn the fat off your hides and pull!’

The ship’s prow moved across the wind. The sound of canvas flapping rolled like thunder across the ship. Cleats slapped against wood, sheets whipped and tautened.

‘Ready jib and spanker!’ called Esteren.

The bosun echoed the call. Crews readied the jib and spanker sail sheets. The ship moved further on to the port tack.

‘Take the wind! Steady the helm.’

‘Take the wind, aye!’ roared the crew.

Strong elves hauled on the sheets. At the bow the billowing jib sail tightened a little, filling with wind. At the stern the spanker flapped, its boom creaking as the crew hauled it in. The ship picked up speed, driving into the end of the tack.

‘Top gallants ready!’ roared Esteren. ‘Take the wind!’

The sails heading the three masts moved to capture the breeze, the bosun yelling orders to trim each sail for best advantage.

‘Bosun, bring the rest in,’ said Esteren.

‘Aye, skipper.’ The bosun marched into the centre of the ship, booming out orders to bring the mainsails to bear.

‘Helm, course north-west. Point up a degree. There you go, steady her.’

Esteren’s voice still carried across the ship though he was standing right by his helm. Auum shook his head as the ship settled on the new tack. To his left the Spirit of Tual had completed her tack and was astern of them by no more than three lengths, and the gap between them was less than fifty yards.

‘Wow,’ said Auum.

Selas smiled. ‘It’s always best seeing it from up here. Skipper’ll have things to say though. It’s never quite good enough.’

‘Good job you’re up here, then,’ said Ulysan.

‘Just wait,’ said Selas. ‘If we meet the enemy half a yard astray, he’ll have me scrubbing the head the rest of the way to Balaia.’

‘How long to contact?’ asked Auum.

‘Less than half an hour,’ said Selas.

‘Selas!’ Esteren’s voice seemed to howl up the mast and rattle through the crow’s nest. Selas started and her face coloured. ‘Halt the chatter. Position, speed, distance.’