Mark Chadbourn - The Silver Skull

He could just make out that repairs were still under way on the black ened side that he had damaged with the fire. New timbers had been fitted, but there was a faint list to the vessel, like a wounded beast limping to its lair to recover. Whatever trouble he had caused, it had prevented the greysailed ship from following its ritual protective route among the fleet, and, perhaps, stopped it releasing whatever weapon it carried on board. He wondered how different things would have been if it had been in any state to take part in the fight off the Isle of Wight, and then near Calais.

"Your requirements, Master Swyfte?" Courtenay asked.

"First, try to contain it against the other ships, and then we shall see how it withstands a broadside or two."

"And then prepare to board?"

Will hesitated, not wanting to inflict the toxic contact with the Unseelie Court on the Tempest's crew. "There is nothing worth plundering aboard that foul vessel, Captain."

"We should send it straight to the bottom," Carpenter said. "Silver Skull and all."

Will couldn't argue with him, but the thought of Grace still aboard chilled him. "We will decide on our future options as the situation unfolds, Captain," he said, not knowing what he would do if he was forced to choose.

Nodding his agreement, Courtenay called for the master gunner to prepare his men on the gun deck. The Tempest ploughed through the swell, but the grey-sailed ship easily remained ahead en route to the English fleet attacking the southeastern wing of the Armada formation.

"Why now?" Will mused. "They have held their cover in the most desperate circumstances and not used their weapon." The answer struck him the moment he had finished speaking. "Unless their repairs have now ensured enough speed to escape whatever carnage their weapon wreaks."

As he spoke, he glimpsed a glimmer of movement as something small and writhing passed over the grey-sailed ship's rail and fell into the sea. In the water, a shadow grew rapidly as though whatever had been dumped there was increasing in size at a phenomenal rate. Within moments a black tube of water barrelled towards them, a furrow of white surf breaking the surface.

"In the name of God, what is that?" Carpenter breathed.

An anxious cry to the helmsman echoed behind them. They turned to see Courtenay hanging over the rail to peer into the sea, his face white and strained. Leaning hard on the wheel, the helmsman began a barely percep tible shift in the Tempest's course, but it was just enough to miss the projectile thrusting beneath the surface. There was a crash and a quick grind as it skimmed the edge of the keel, and a split second later the Tempest lurched over at an alarming angle. Everyone on deck was thrown off their feet. Catching Carpenter's sleeve, Will prevented him from going over the rail, but others were forced to clutch on for dear life.

As the wake passed, the Tempest righted itself with a crash that sent seawater washing across the deck.

"What is that?" Carpenter raged.

From the drawn expression on Courtenay's face, Will realised he knew the answer. As Will raced towards the captain, the truth revealed itself before his eyes. The projectile continued in a direct line from the Tempest towards another English ship that Will couldn't identify. Rooted by the impending collision, he watched agape as the projectile arced out of the water and over the vessel. It smashed through the foremast and dragged it into the sea on the other side. Seamen scrambled across the boards to hack at the rigging with axes before the ship could be hauled down to the depths.

"What is ... that?" Carpenter gasped a second time.

The projectile was long, black, and sinuous, glistening like an eel, but a man's height across and as long as two galleons. When Will caught sight of the head and the needle-teeth arranged around the circular mouth, he knew it was the thing he had seen in the barrel in the cabin on the grey-sailed ship, now grown unbelievably large.

"Sea serpent." Courtenay had joined them. His gaze never left the white wake tearing into the thick smoke. "I have encountered their kind before, out in the stormy Atlantic returning from the New World. The damnable beast almost took me, and the entire ship, down to the bottom. Nothing can stop them. They tear ships into matchwood and consume every good man as they swim through the drink."

"This is the Enemy's weapon," Will said, "stalking silently beneath the waves to destroy the fleet."

From deep in the smoke, they heard another crash of splintering wood, followed by cries that rose above the thunderous guns.

"Engrossed in the noise and fury of battle, no one will know it is there until too late," Carpenter said. "This will turn the tide of the battle."

"Then we must stop it," Will said.

"How?" Carpenter said. "What weapons have we that could strike dead a thing like that? Even if we could catch it. Musket and arquebus fire is too small. The big guns would never land a shot 'pon it at the speed it moves."

Will quickly turned over the options and then said, "I have a notion. Leave that to me." To Courtenay he said, "Your job is to get us close enough to attack the beast."

"Close enough is too close," Courtenay replied. "But no man ever gained glory with faint heart. Ambition and risk go hand in hand."

Will searched the sea for the grey-sailed ship, but it had already disappeared into the smoke. Launceston read his mind. "If we lose the Enemy ship, misery may lie ahead. They still have the Silver Skull."

"If the serpent destroys our fleet, the Spanish will regroup, collect Parma's army, and England will fall. Come, we have our course. Let's to it."

As the Tempest sailed through the smoke, they encountered the remnants of a galleon slowly taking on water. The hull was torn in two, shattered masts trailing in the water like oars. Seamen clung to the wreckage. Several were dead, chunks of them torn away.

Amid the boom of gunfire, the sound of cracking wood emerged from the smoke to reveal the location of the sea serpent. It had settled on the fringes of the Armada's southeasterly wing where several English ships attacked. More wreckage, another damaged ship that had lost its rudder and drifted directionlessly.

Finally they emerged from the smoke. The serpent's wake was clear on the swell, a large V flecked with foam near the point. As it prepared to attack another ship, its head broke the water. The circular mouth flexed. Yards from the ship it submerged and then erupted from the sea in a cascade of white foam, crashing through the ship's rigging and bringing down the mainmast as the terrified crew fled the deck. Splashing into the swell on the far side, the wake continued forwards before beginning a wide turn for another attack.

"Is it ... growing larger?" Carpenter asked. "Soon it will be able to ensnare an entire ship in its coils."

"Draw its attention!" Will shouted to Courtenay. "We must deflect its attack!"

Courtenay ordered the helmsman to continue the course that would put the Tempest between the serpent and the damaged ship. The northwesterly filled the sails and sped them on.

"You are sure this is the correct course?" Launceston asked in a blithe manner that hid the doubt he obviously felt. The same emotion was clear in the faces of the seamen who flashed unsettled glances Will's way.

"I thought you would thank me for easing the boredom of a sea journey," Will replied.

The preparations he had ordered were hastily brought together and delivered to the deck, but were not yet ready for use.

"Brace yourselves!" Courtenay barked.

Gripping the rail and the rigging, the crew steadied themselves as the Tempest plunged into the serpent's path. At the last, it submerged, but the wake threw the ship's prow towards the sky, the stern almost plunging beneath the waves.