Jack Whyte - The Sorcer part 2 - Metamorphosis

"The big one is heading this way!" This shout from the beach caused a general turning towards the sea. I eased my way among my men to where I could see what was happening, Derek and Donuil flanking me on either side. Sure enough, the massive bireme had come much closer to us and would soon draw level with our position, perhaps less than half a mile out to sea. Its lesser, consort galleys, of which I counted ten at first glance, were sweeping closer to shore, spying on us, yet keeping just beyond Pendragon bow range.

"They won't come closer, but they're curious." I turned to Donuil. "Show them our standards, Donuil. Have our trumpeters sound out a challenge for them. And post a squad of bowmen on the rocks above, in hopes that some of them may row too close." As he left to carry out my orders, I turned back to Huw, who had come to stand behind me. "So, Huw, how many men will you take with you and how long will you require to make ready? I'd like to see you on your way today."

"Then you will. I'll take my own half hundred with me. I'll feel safe with my own Pendragon bowmen against any number of heathen Outlanders. With the goodwill of the gods, I'll find Uderic within the week, unless he's dead and in the ground, and I'll be back within three days of that. Where should I arrange for you to meet with him?!'

"I've no idea, " I told him honestly. "You pick the place, as close as possible to half way between where we are now and where you find Uderic. But be sure to leave yourself sufficient time to get back here and lead me to the meeting place before the appointed time. "

He nodded, grinning. "Should I go now? I'm ready. "

"Then do so, and accept my thanks. "

He spun on his heel and walked away, and as I watched him go I heard another shout from the beach. 'Tell Commander Merlyn one of them's coming in!" I was moving again before the word was relayed. As I stepped clear of the throng, on to the bare strand above the beach, I saw Donuil come galloping towards me along the hard sand at the water's edge.

"That's Feargus, Merlyn!" he shouted.

Sure enough, I recognized the racing galley instantly by the red of its sail. My jaw dropped as I looked again to where the massive bireme ploughed ahead of its escorts.

"Connor Mac Athol!" I roared into the sudden stillness. "You crazed, intemperate, one legged madman!"

Feargus's galley heeled hard over and came scything towards the beach, its oars scattering water and flashing wet in the sunlight. I made my way straight down the sand to the water's edge, holding my arms widespread in welcome and restraining myself with difficulty from breaking into a headlong run. Donuil, I knew, had jumped down from his horse and was close behind me, as would be the others. The galley sped straight towards me until, at the last possible moment, the oarsmen shipped their oars in unison and the long, sleek craft glided forward unaided, its speed dwindling rapidly, to grate to a halt on the shallow, sandy bottom less than a score of paces from where I stood. The tiny man who captained this graceful craft leaped to the prow and hailed me.

"Merlyn of Camulod! The Admiral of King Brander's seas sends greetings! Would you care to step aboard his bireme?"

"Gladly," I roared. "But I cannot walk on water, nor can I swim in armour." Even as I shouted, however, I saw the tiny boat being pushed away to fetch me and I turned to Donuil. "Your brother never fails to amaze me. The last time we spoke, he told me he intended to steal one of Ironhair's biremes. I should have been expecting this! Come with me." I looked beyond his shoulder to where Derek, Benedict and Rufio stood grinning. "We'll be gone but a short time. My apologies to the others for the interrupted meeting, but this development may change everything. Connor Mac Athol may have won our war for us!"

Connor made us royally welcome aboard his magnificent new ship, and as soon as the amenities of greetings and exchange of family trivia had been concluded, he told us the tale of how he had procured it, slipping unnoticed with more than a hundred men into the armed camp that served as its major harbour on the northern coast of Cornwall.

His plan had succeeded without a setback. He and his men and ships were welcomed by the Cornishmen, accepted unquestioningly as mercenaries no different from the hundreds of others who came and went constantly, and Connor had bided his time, establishing himself and his followers, over the course of six days, as belonging. Then, on the seventh day, the bireme had arrived and the booty captured in the previous month's raids in Cambria had been unloaded and dispatched in wagons to wherever Ironhair stored such things. Connor had discovered that new levies would be boarded the following day for transportation into Cambria, and thus had been presented with two alternative courses: loading his own men aboard the following day, then capturing the vessel once at sea, or taking the initiative immediately and capturing the ship that very night. He had chosen the latter, because the cargo holds his men would occupy in travelling were deep, and they might not be able to leave them before the end of the voyage. He had heard tales aplenty of mercenaries confined in the holds beneath locked hatches throughout entire voyages, especially in foul weather. Furthermore, at sea the ship would have its own armed defenders.

Connor had issued his commands, and his men had boarded the bireme in the dead of night, easily overcoming the few guards posted in the ship's home port. Once aboard, the remainder had been simple, and the bireme had quietly slipped from its moorings, under new command, with no one noticing.

Two things, however, had appalled him and his men: the rank stench of the ship, emanating from the decks where the rowers were chained to their sweeps; and the unsuspected fact that such ships were powered by slaves. Connor had been completely unprepared for that. When he had discovered it, he had been forced to consider abandoning his attempt to steal it, knowing that the vessel's oarsmen would be confined there, and aware of what was afoot. The size of the ship, however, the overwhelming bulk of it and the power it offered, had convinced him that he could not simply do nothing merely because he feared the possible reaction of a crew of slaves. Certainly, he reasoned, they might rebel and raise the alarm when they discovered the theft, in which case Connor and his men would be in dire straits; or they might even refuse to row the vessel, which would be scarcely better. Connor, however, had elected to believe they might choose freedom, and so he offered it, overcoming language difficulties by the simple expedient of choking a hulking overseer with his own whip, striking the chains off the leading slaves and setting some of his own men to toil beside them in starting the ship away from the dock. His message of hope spread quickly, and the galley slaves worked harder, without goading, than they had probably ever worked before. By dawn, the bireme was safe in deep, blue water, surrounded by Connor's own galleys and unthreatened by pursuit.

I interrupted him at that point to ask him what he had done with the slaves, and he smiled at me.

"Almost half of them are here aboard, those who were fit enough to want to fight. "

"And what about the others?"

'They're in the north, among our Isles. Some died, but very few. The others are... mending. "

"How long ago did all this occur?"

His smile grew wider. "What was it, three months ago? No, it was four. I sailed directly south on leaving you, and we took the ship a short time after that... perhaps two weeks. My plan was right, you see. No point in putting off what could be done right then and there. "

"And then you sailed home again, all the way north, directly?"

He laughed. "We had to, man! We couldn't stay down here. You've never smelled a stink the like of what we found aboard. Those rowers were chained to their oars, never released for any purpose, so they lived in their own filth. My men were vomiting all the time from the stench of it. You couldn't eat your food and hold it down! We had to clean the whole ship, stem to stern. We beached it, north of here, as soon as we were free of interference, and swilled it out, but the stink was settled deep in the wood and would not be swiftly moved."