Richard Parker: Elsewhere

Captain Denard fidgeted slightly at the Admiral’s side as they moved out of the safety of the inner harbor and the wind at the point struck them. Both men raised their faces into the wind, smelling the air, tasting the weather, and pervading everything was the smell of the sea, salty and slightly fishy, but even so they gloried in it. “This is it,” the Captain finally said, “the largest sea battle of our time.” And Cantu could hear the eagerness in the young man’s voice.

The Admiral glanced over at his second in command and hoped the eagerness was warranted. He considered tempering the young man’s excitement but then thought better of it. Hell, he was excited too…and confident. The Toranado were the masters of the sea, and for good reason. His fleet, his men, and his ships were simply the best, and like the Temple Knights they dominated their chosen arena for centuries.

“Stay on course,” the Admiral said ten minutes later as Captain Denard looked to him expectantly. The enemy fleet was now within a quarter of a mile, still pulling hard. The Captain glanced at his Admiral then at the enemy fleet, and then back once more.

“A few more minutes.” Cantu replied calmly, his thick legs spread against the rocking of the ship. “They will be tired when we turn into them. They seem in a hurry to die.”

Three minutes later the Admiral gave the order to turn into the enemy.

“All oars!” Denard shouted, and their pace picked up dramatically. Cantu stood near wheel, confident now. The enemy ships were still racing toward them, and he doubted that many of their oarsmen would have much strength left to maneuver, even if they managed to survive the first pass. The enemy commander was a fool…and reckless.

Cantu’s flagship, the Deirdre Bay was an older, heavy trireme and she took a bit of coaxing to turn and get underway, but once moving, anything she struck with her large steel pointed ram was going to the bottom…quickly. The Admiral had complete confidence in the Deirdre Bay and with luck he felt she would get her fourth kill today. It wasn’t until they were within a hundred yards that Cantu noticed something strange about the enemy bearing down on them. On the sides of all the approaching ships hung great white bundles, like protective bumpers only much, much larger. He wondered if the Palmerrio were foolish enough to actually think they could use the bundles as protection, but then the enemy ships were among them.

As they neared, a galley foolishly darted directly in front of the Deirdre Bay, a near perfect target but just before they smashed into the smaller ship Cantu heard a great crash from starboard and risked a glance. He immediately saw, with satisfaction, that one of his sister ships, the Hermes, had plowed into another unfortunate enemy galley. The Admiral watched, briefly noting that the enemy ship had managed to pull its oars inside just in time, but still the ship was doomed. The heavy ram of the trireme smashed into the aft section of the smaller galley, splitting the timbered side easily and driving deep into the ship’s interior. Cantu knew that any sailors or oarsman in the immediate area of impact would have been killed almost instantly.

The Admiral quickly turned back to watch the Deirdre Bay’s progress into the enemy, feeling for the unfortunates on the stricken enemy vessel who would not have the pleasure of another day on this earth. As his ship plowed through the waves Cantu watched as the galley directly in their path nimbly swung hard to port and out of harm’s way. The Admiral knew they would be hard pressed to ram the agile smaller ship on this pass, but ahead there were many, many other targets.

“Admiral!” Denard yelled out in alarm and Cantu turned. Denard’s attention was starboard and when the Admiral glanced that way he saw that the Hermes was in the process of being boarded by a host of enemy sailors and the stricken vessel had somehow become anchored with its killer.

Cantu raced to the rail trying to get a better view.

“Port oars!” he heard a cry and swiftly turned his attention back to the Deirdre Bay.

The galley they attempted to ram was sliding along the port side of the ship and arrows were now flying back and forth, though strangely flaming arrows were only flying away from the Deirdre Bay.

Cantu took three steps toward the center of the deck, blatantly ignoring the flying sticks of death that filled the air. Men went down around him as others screamed out warnings, but the Admiral had a mind only for the galley that was riding the waves dangerously close to his hull. Then, all at once, the bundles tied to the side of the enemy ship plunged into the water like anchors, and to Cantu’s horror he understood their sinister purpose.

“Hard starboard!” he yelled, but knew it was hopeless since the port oars were disengaged. The white bundles were attached to three large, thick planks and Cantu stared in alarm as they swung high up into the air. His eye caught the twinkling of metal coming from the very ends of each plank, and looking up he spotted dozens of sharp steel spikes, glistening in the morning light like poison dew. The planks were made of heavy timbers, easily eight to ten inches thick and were tied together to make a gangway nearly three feet wide. As the weight of the anchors pulled at them, the planks pivoted on massive iron hinges. They rode up impossibly high before gracefully arching down and smashing through the railing of the Deirdre Bay and jamming their steel spikes deep into the deck. Almost immediately both vessels shuddered with the joining, like two virgins tasting love for the first time. Running in opposite directions the strain on both ships was considerable, but the steel tips stubbornly held them together and the ships immediately began to swing around one another in a tight circle.

Cries of alarm sounded all over the Deirdre Bay even as the first of the enemy started the perilous sprint from one ship to the other. To Cantu’s horror he saw that the enemy ship was packed with men, far more than a normal galley crew, and those making the crossing all appeared to be seasoned soldiers rather than sailors. Most of the attackers nimbly made the crossing, but a few lost their balance in the pitching and rocking of the sea and were thrown down between the ships. Cantu stared in disbelief as the enemy streamed across; arrows flew between the ships now with angry consistency. The Admiral risked a glance out at the rest of his fleet and was dismayed to see that many more Toranado ships were in the same predicament, the enemy at times even sacrificing a vessel in order to slow and trap the more experienced Toranado sailors.

“Admiral!” Captain Denard yelled, his kali already drawn and ready. Cantu turned and saw a sight which chilled him. Enemy bearing the uniform of the Temple Knights were now crossing to the Deirdre Bay, and on the galley’s deck waiting to cross, stood a man dressed all in black, his cape and pants trimmed in red. The man stared briefly at Cantu, a wide smile on his face. He gave a slight nod before turning his full attention to the crossing.

‘Executioner!’ Cantu thought and pulled his own kali from his waist, though he knew he was no swordsman. He absently wished Tabernas was here. But despite his lack of skill, the admiral did not hesitate and waded into the battle for his ship, Denard at his side. The fighting was very heavy and going against the Toranado in an ugly way. Almost immediately Cantu caught a kali in the right bicep, he cried out and dropped one of his weapons. He did not try to retrieve it knowing his wounded arm was now useless. Instead he frantically tried to block the powerful swipe of a long sword. He managed but barely, and was only dimly aware of being spun about by the force of the blow. He gazed in horror out at his stricken fleet for just a second and before he could swing back around he felt a hammer blow in his lower back. The admiral fell to his knees as his pants grew heavy and wet. He thought for a moment his bladder had gone, but then saw the blood running smoothly from the bottom of his trousers. Cantu was breathing hard and fast, but felt no real pain. He saw Denard, already lying on the deck; his throat was slashed open, the only movement coming from the twitching of his eyes. Cantu somehow managed to gain his feet but his legs, which had never failed him at sea, would not work properly and he stumbled hard into the railing. With great effort Cantu turned back to face the fighting, wanting to defend his ship and his men, but just as he did an enemy soldier caught him in the chest with a pike and flipped him backward over the rail and into the water.