Empire Of Blood

Chapter 12

The fleet set sail the next morning with fifty galleys and twenty heavily laden sailing vessels. Blade wondered why the sailing ships were accompanying the fleet, since their dependence on the wind was likely to slow it down.

As the fleet worked its way north along the coast of Saram, Blade grasped the answer to that question. The sailing ships carried extra water and food to transfer to the galleys at sea. That meant the galleys with their enormous crews could stay at sea for weeks at a time, rather than days. The short range of galleys had always been a problem in Home Dimension naval history. In fact, it had been one reason why they had slowly given way to the sailing ship, slower and more dependent on the winds, but carrying a smaller crew and far more food and water.

A close look at the sailing ships told Blade of another good reason for their presence with the Imperial fleet. From stem to stern they bristled with guns, and their decks swarmed with armored soldiers of the Corps of Eunuchs.

Again Blade remembered Home Dimension naval history. Another reason for the galley's decline as a warship had been its lack of fighting power compared with the sailing ship. A sailing ship might not be able to escape a galley in a calm sea, but it could carry more and heavier guns and carry them higher above the water, with far more ammunition. Kukon and her sisters carried six or eight guns apiece. The sailing ships carried twenty or thirty on each side.

True, galleys could close in and ram. But galleys were lightly built, compared to sailing ships. They had to be, or they could never be rowed easily. A galley closing in to ram could be smashed to pieces by heavy cannonballs before she reached her goal. Even then, the heavier timbers of a sailing ship's hull meant she could shrug off a ram blow that would send a galley straight to the bottom.

So it did not always matter if a sailing ship were caught in a calm by a galley, or even by a fleet of galleys. With good guns and good men behind them, she could stand off the whole fleet and then go on her way when the wind rose. The sailing ships were not only a floating supply base for the galleys. They were also a solid support for them in battle.

The fleet worked its way slowly northward, both sailing ships and galleys relying on the wind. This gave the galley slaves a comparatively easy time, apart from the dampness and chill of the nights and the broiling sun by day. A few of the newer slaves were painfully sunburned, until their backs, necks, and arms were red, peeling messes. One man came down with a congestion of the lungs and was thrown overboard, to be quickly taken by the sharks. Otherwise, Kukon's slaves had as much peace, quiet, and rest as galley slaves at sea could expect.

Blade had no illusions that this voyage under sail was intended to make things easy for the slaves. It only kept the fleet together and saved the strength of the slaves for the days when it would be badly needed-that was all. When the time came to pursue the pirates, the whips would be cracking and the drums beating harder than ever.

For three days the fleet sailed north past a coast of rugged mountains with small fishing villages nestled in lonely coves. Here the mountains that formed the northern boundary of the Empire came down to the sea. Not far inland, Blade could see summits rising three and four miles toward the blue sky, crowned with snow even though summer was approaching.

Blade noticed that the fishing boats from the villages scuttled frantically for shore as the Imperial fleet came in sight. They had good reason for this. Blade saw one galley swing out of formation and chase down a fishing boat. The five fishermen were snatched from their own deck and vanished aboard the galley, no doubt to start a grim life at her oars.

North of the mountains the coast leveled out into a series of low, barren headlands, with occasional clumps of stunted trees. Here was a land held by no ruler's hand, and by few people of any sort. It was said that it was part of a great plain that reached all the way around the world and joined the Steppes.

One morning the fleet swung in toward shore and anchored. Blade saw Dzhai looking toward the gray, rocky headland that was nearest with a longing expression on his face. Dzhai was in theory a free sailor, but he was aboard Kukon as much against his will as any slave at her oars. He was also chained to the ship just as thoroughly as they were, by the maimed arm that would make swimming nearly impossible. Blade felt slightly guilty about that arm. At the same time, he could not help feeling slightly relieved that Dzhai would be staying aboard, not throwing his life away in a probably futile attempt to escape to the dubious safety of this nearly lifeless country.

Hundreds of sailors in scores of boats rowed ashore from both the galleys and the sailing ships. They carried with them empty barrels and brought them back filled with water from inland streams. Other sailors went out with nets and lines, bringing up a rich catch of fish. These were split, gutted, dried in the sun, and salted down in more barrels.

The fleet swung around its anchors in the windless, broiling hot bay for three days. About noon on the fourth day it weighed anchor and put to sea again. This time the rams of the galleys and the bowsprits of the sailing ships turned almost due east.

Blade did some calculations based on his mental map of the Silver Sea. The fleet's present course would take it well to the south of the Strait of Nongai. The idea seemed to be to keep out of sight of the strait and its islands and out of reach of any strong pirate force until the fleet was well to the east of the pirates' main bases. Then they would turn north, cutting in between the pirates and the mainland, and approach their bases from the rear.

Blade went to sleep with the stars shining in the black sky overhead, the wind rippling in the sails, and the faint splash and gurgle of water alongside. He could not call himself happy until he was free again. But he had the feeling that those who for the moment had control of his fate knew their business. For the moment that would have to be enough.

The feeling didn't last more than five minutes after Blade awoke the next morning. He sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and the crusted salt from his face, and looked around. The ship was still under sail, and around him the other slaves were awakening one by one. Beyond-

That was when Blade sat up with a jerk and stared at the sea all around Kukon. At sunset there had been galleys in view almost everywhere and a solid mass of sailing ships bringing up the rear. Now the sea seemed as empty as if a storm had swept it clear. Blade counted the galleys in sight, got up to seven, searched for more until his eyes watered from the sunlight on the sea, and realized that he wasn't going to find any. There was not a single sailing ship in sight either.

«We've lost the fleet,» he muttered, more than half to himself.

The lead man on the oar two benches forward turned back to look at Blade, then shook his head. «Nuh. Sukar did it, arter all.»

Blade looked around to see if any of the slavemasters were within earshot before asking, «Who's Sukar?»

The man jerked a thumb toward the lead galley. «Man w' t' pennant. Sayin', he want ter lead his ships orf 'lone, sprize pirates, do tall hisself. Want gold hisself, nob'dy t' share it.»

Blade nodded. «Why no sailing ships?»

«Slow,» the man said. «No sprize w' them.»

«Why-?» began Blade, then noticed a slavemaster turning and looking toward him. He and the other slave both tried to look as innocent and occupied with their own affairs as they could. The other man started combing his fingers through his long, gray beard, as if searching for vermin. The slavemaster glowered at both of them, then turned away without bringing down his whip.

Blade considered what the other man had said, mentally translating his brief, crude words. What they added up to was this: Sukar was the admiral commanding the galley squadron to which Kukon belonged. Apparently, he had conceived a plan to take his squadron away from the main fleet and sneak up on the pirates, completely surprising them and winning a decisive victory all by himself.

So far so good. Blade had already guessed this would be the fleet's strategy. But he'd assumed the whole fleet would be making the attack. Instead, Admiral Sukar was dashing off with only seven galleys and no sailing ships. He hoped to win the victory all by himself, without having to share the gold or glory with anyone else in the fleet.

That made no sense at all. The pirates could send to sea ten times as many galleys and fighting men as Sukar had. If the admiral managed complete surprise, he still might not have the strength to win. If he lost surprise-if the pirates had ships or men on watch over the channels through the islands-he was sailing into a massacre. If he didn't lose every man and ship in his squadron, it would be a piece of good fortune he didn't deserve.

How had Sukar gotten permission to do such a foolish thing? Blade thought he could guess. Sukar would be someone with influence at Kul-Nam's court, or the son or brother of someone influential. Blade had heard enough to suggest that a good number of naval and military posts now went to such men. The Empire's fighting men were still well led, by and large-but there were already far too many exceptions to this rule, and more every day. It was just bad luck for Blade that he'd happened to end up in the squadron of one of these court pimps!

Blade did not consider doubting the bearded man's words. He did not know the man's name. No one aboard Kukon did. But practically everyone knew his reputation. He was a man with no education-a laborer or a fisherman, perhaps, before fate brought him to the galleys. He had rowed in the Imperial fleet for twenty years, which was in itself a fair-sized miracle. During that time he'd kept his eyes and ears open every waking minute and had learned much.

There were advantages to being a slave, considered no better than an animal incapable of understanding or repeating what his masters said. After twenty years of listening, there was almost nothing in the Imperial fleet that was still a secret to the bearded man. If he said that Admiral Sukar was leading the squadron off on a wildgoose chase that might lead it to disaster, Admiral Sukar was doing just that.

Blade swore to himself. He felt like swearing out loud. The feeling that those in command knew what they were doing was suddenly gone. In its place was the feeling of being dragged along by fools. He was as helpless as before-and in far greater danger.