Empire Of Blood

Chapter 20

Kukon sailed north three days later with nearly three hundred men aboard her, all capable of rowing or fighting.

The commandant of the main fort of Parine, his two aides, and a dozen of the best musketeers among Parine's soldiers were also on board. They had volunteered to accompany the mission in order to strengthen it and to observe the events on behalf of Princess Tarassa.

The princess herself would gladly have accompanied them. Blade turned her down politely but as firmly as he could. «There are no proper accommodations for a lady aboard a war galley as crowded as ours.» Before she could bristle or flare up at that, he went on. «Also, Parine must be placed in a proper state of defense. Can you be sure the job will be done as well as it must be without you here to oversee it?»

Tarassa sighed. «As usual, Blade, you have the right of it.» She clenched her fists and waved them in front of his nose in mock rage. «Damn you, you are so often right!» Then she kissed him on the lips and said more softly, «Very well. Go to the pirates, but come back safely to me.»

After two days' sail to the north, the commandant made a suggestion that intrigued everyone. Blade was not only intrigued by it; he was worried.

«The pirates may not believe in our good faith unless we give them proof,» said the commandant. «If they do not believe in our good faith, they may open fire on us the moment we sail within range, flag of truce or no.»

«Perhaps,» said Dzhai. «But I doubt it. The pirates are very proud of their honor. Even now it would take much to make them fire on a truce flag.»

The commandant ignored Dzhai, as he almost always did. He consistently refused to be more than minimally polite to those of «lower rank.» When he was not flaunting his lineage, he was still a good soldier, but his manner was beginning to grate on Blade.

«The pirates will not trust us if we simply approach them as we are. But suppose we approach them in company with a ship we have taken from the fleet of the Emperor? They will know that we have committed ourselves to their side. Also, we may have a valuable batch of prisoners, who can be useful in many ways.»

Blade merely looked polite. Prince Durouman seemed openly delighted. «That's a marvelous idea, Commandant. But where do we find such a ship?»

The commandant looked around the little cabin. «This is knowledge we have received in Parine, but which does not seem to have reached the mainland. The Emperor is sending out armed sailing ships toward the eastern part of the Silver Sea, to watch the coasts of the Five Kingdoms.»

«And land spies and assassins?» put in the prince.

«Probably,» said the commandant. «The ships will be sailing alone, many miles apart. Our fighting men would easily outnumber the crew. Once we boarded, it would be all over.»

«Yes,» said Dzhai, «but-«He hesitated.

«But what?» said the commandant severely. Blade fought down an urge to kick the man in the shins under the cabin table. «What is your objection, Captain Dzhai?»

«It is not easy for a galley to attack a sailing ship if the ship has good guns and brave men behind them.»

«It is not easy to sink it, no,» said Prince Durouman, obviously sharing the commandant's annoyance. He was only trying to be polite to Dzhai out of respect for Blade. «But we wish to capture it. That is a matter of boarding and hand-to-hand fighting.»

Dzhai shrugged. Blade said nothing. He had some thoughts of his own about how galleys might sink sailing ships, but he didn't want to say a single word about them in front of the commandant.

Blade did not care very much for this idea of an attack on one of the Empire's scouting vessels. It meant an unnecessary battle and therefore an unnecessary risk. Blade had fought in more battles than any ten ordinary men, but he had never liked unnecessary ones and always avoided them when he could.

Besides, what was this about the scout ships? He hadn't heard anything of it until just now. If it had been known in Parine, as the commandant said, why hadn't he been told?

Blade firmly reined in his suspicions. It was quite possible that he was looking for sinister implications that weren't there. There was no good reason why he should have been told everything that Princess Tarassa learned. Besides, Prince Durouman was obviously falling in with the commandant's idea. That was the best argument of all for Blade's keeping his mouth shut. If he didn't, it could lead to an open quarrel between him and Prince Durouman. That would be a much greater danger to their success than anything that might come of this attack on the Imperial scout ship.

So Blade kept silent as Kukon made her way steadily toward the north.

They sighted the Imperial ship at sunrise on the morning of the seventh day out. At the lookout's wild cry, Blade started scrambling up the foremast shrouds to the crow's nest.

He saw the two masts and high-castled hull of a large sailing ship rising slowly above the horizon. There was only the faintest of breezes. If the calm held, Kukon would be able to run rings around the enemy. Perhaps she could even take a position off her bow or stern that would be safe from the enemy's heavier guns. Perhaps the commandant's idea would turn out to be a good one after all. Perhaps

Never mind the «perhaps.» There was a battle to fight. Blade leaned over the railing of the crow's nest and shouted down to the deck.

«Dzhai! Luun! All hands to battle stations!»

Dzhai nodded. Luun cupped his hands and shouted back, «Tek doon t' sails?»

«No time!» That wasn't strictly true, but Blade wanted to make absolutely sure that Kukon had something beside her oars to rely on if something-anything-went wrong. He swung himself back into the shrouds and slid down to the deck.

Two hundred of Kukon's men were now scrambling to their places on the rowing benches. Each man had a sword, bow, axe, spear, or musket ready under his bench. The rest of the men not needed for handling the ship were manning the guns or lining up, ready to board. Blade saw Prince Durouman take his place on the foc'sle, surrounded by his thirty green-clad guardsmen. The prince's face seemed one great smile.

Most of the other men on the deck were smiling as well. Some of them might not have gone out of their way to fight against the Emperor Kul-Nam, but none of them seemed to regret the chance to do so, now that it had come to them.

The drummers were beating out the cruising stroke. They would approach slowly, saving the rowers' strength for the final dash across the last three miles when they would be in range of the enemy's guns. Blade looked toward the Imperial ship. She was now hull-up, even from Kukon's deck. Her sails still hung as limply as wet wash from the yards.

Blade strode up and down Kukon's deck as she crept across the sea toward the enemy. He talked briefly with Dzhai, more briefly with Luun, still more briefly with Prince Durouman. The prince wore a full mail hauberk and a plate helmet and breastplate over that. In spite of the damp coolness and the breeze, he was sweating heavily and his dark beard was as limp as the enemy's sails.

The commandant was also sweating as he stood by the heavy gun forward. He wore no armor and carried no weapons except a sword and a dagger. Doubtless he was planning to rely on speed rather than protection. He was a first-class swordsman. He was also a man who'd been a soldier for twenty years without ever seeing a real battle. No doubt that was why he was sweating. The first taste of the real thing was always a nerve-wracking moment for any man in any Dimension.

Now the enemy was showing signs of alarm and alertness. Blade could see sails being hastily furled and hear a faint roll of drums as the enemy's crew scrambled to their battle stations. Kukon swung more sharply to starboard to cut across the enemy's bow.

A puff of white smoke came from the sailing ship's side. There was a long moment's wait, then a fountain of spray three hundred yards short of Kukon.

«Not shooting very well, are they?» said the commandant. His voice was brittle.

«They'll be doing better before long,» said Blade.

The galley continued her crawl across the sea toward the sailing ship. The enemy continued to fire single shots, testing the range. Six fell short. The seventh landed just astern. The eighth sailed over Kukon, with the familiar ripping-canvas sound, and splashed into the water on the other side.

Blade looked back along the swaying ranks of the rowers. All were sweating heavily, but most still smiled and none showed signs of strain. Some were eyeing their weapons. There was plenty of strength left in them.

Blade sprang up onto the breech of the heavy gun, drew his sword, and flourished it over his head. The pale sunlight glowed along it.

«Men of Kukon-forward! Drummers-the attack stroke!»

The roar of the drums was almost instantly drowned out by the furious clatter of the oars. Kukon seemed to dig in her stern like a speedboat as she shot forward. Water fountained up over the ram and spray doused Blade and the commandant. The gunners turned their backs to shield their lighted matches with their bodies.

The enemy ship grew steadily larger. Now Kukon's bow gunners spun around, holding their matches. They shouted, and Blade and the commandant sprang clear. Then four gunners pressed four matches into the touchholes of four cannon. All four went off together with an eruption of sound, flame, and swirling smoke. By the time Blade's eyes stopped watering, all four balls were nearing their target. Two struck home. Blade saw splinters fly and a chunk of the enemy's bulwark suddenly vanish.

«Good shooting!» he shouted. The gunners acknowledged the praise with brief smiles, white teeth showing in powder-blackened faces, then bent to their work again.

The commandant licked his lips and clamped a white-knuckled hand on the gold-chased hilt of his sword.

Blade ordered the boarding party to lie down on the deck. Prince Durouman's guards grumbled, but a dark look from the prince sent them down on their bellies with the rest. The prince himself continued to stand beside Blade.

Blade no longer kept track of the firing of Kukon's guns or the answering shots from the enemy. His attention was concentrated on judging the angle between the two ships. As soon as the enemy's broadside could no longer bear on Kukon, he would close straight in as fast as the rowers could move the ship.

The moment arrived. At a sharp order from Blade Kukon began a turn so fast and so tight that she heeled far over to one side. Blade and the commandant had to hold onto the railing to keep from losing their footing. Only Prince Durouman stood by himself, feet braced wide apart, helmet shoved back on his head, hair and beard blowing. He was a magnificent sight, and Blade only hoped he wouldn't also be a magnificent target.

As Kukon approached the sailing ship, Blade saw that the enemy's decks were surprisingly empty. A little cluster of men stood with muskets and bows on the foc'sle. Another cluster stood on the stern castle. The deck amidships was empty except for a few half-naked sailors standing by with axes to cut loose fallen masts and rigging.

«She must have just enough men aboard to man her guns,» said the commandant.

«That's their problem,» said Blade cheerfully. «We'll swing around her bow and run along her port side, grapple, and board. If she's that short-handed, this should be easier than I expected.»

The commandant seemed to quiver all over at Blade's words, and his eyes widened. Realization was striking him that his first moment of hand-to-hand combat was fast approaching.

Kukon swept onward. Her guns were firing steadily, hammering away at the enemy's foc'sle. Blade saw a swirl in the little cluster of figures there as a shot ploughed through it. Several did not rise. Splintered wood showed white in a dozen places around the enemy's bow.

Then Kukon was rounding the enemy and swinging back to run alongside. Without waiting for orders, the men of the boarding party sprang to their feet and ran to the port gangway. Some of them swung ropes and grappling hooks in their hands.

The port rowers heaved their oars back in through the ports and sprang up from the benches. Kukon ran alongside the enemy with a great squealing and grinding and bumping of wood. Ropes hissed through the air and bright steel hooks dropped over the enemy's bulwarks. Blade opened his mouth and filled his lungs to roar out, «Boarders away!»

Then there was a flurry of movement among the cluster of figures on the enemy's foc'sle. A knotted rope sailed over the bulwarks and came snaking down to land on Kukon's deck between Blade and the commandant.

At the same time there was a tremendous clatter as hatches and gratings flew open all along the enemy's deck amidships. The gunports on the ship's side dropped open with rattles and bangs. Blade saw helmeted heads thrusting forward from the gloom below decks, looking out past the muzzles of the guns. He recognized the helmets and armor of the Imperial Corps of Eunuchs.

Then the commandant whirled, his sword leaping from its scabbard. He slashed down at Blade so quickly and so hard that only Blade's miraculously fast reflexes kept his head on his shoulders. He ducked, went down, rolled, and sprang up again.

The commandant was just as fast. He gripped the knotted rope and shouted. Above, the men on the enemy's foc'sle heaved. The rope tightened, and the commandant flew straight up into the air as if he'd been shot out of a circus cannon.

Then the eunuchs at the gunports pushed forward, raising muskets. At the same time dozens more eunuchs with both crossbows and muskets sprouted from the enemy ship's bulwarks. All the muskets and bows seemed to go off at once with one tremendous, ringing crash. Bolts and balls whizzed past Blade, struck the deck, clanged off the gun barrels, drove into human flesh. Screams of agony and the smell of blood and powder surrounded him.

From forward one of the enemy's guns fired at pointblank range. Its ball smashed squarely into the muzzle of the heaviest gun on Kukon's bow. The gun flew backward off its carriage and right off the foc'sle, to smash down onto the deck below.

It also smashed down squarely on top of Luun. The man had time and breath to let out one blood-freezing scream of agony and terror as the tons of bronze crushed him into the deck. Then there was silence, soon broken by the sound of more muskets and crossbows going off.

Prince Durouman was still on his feet, although blood was streaming down his face and both helmet and breastplate were dented. He waved his sword, and his guards crowded around him, raising their muskets.

«Fire!» he roared. More than twenty muskets crashed out in a single volley, and as many helmeted heads vanished from along the enemy's bulwarks. Blade saw one eunuch throw up his arms and fall backward, a great hole gaping squarely in the middle of his forehead. He wouldn't have believed such shooting possible with matchlock muskets.

But for every eunuch shot down by the prince's guards, two more appeared. Their fire grew steadily. In another minute Blade knew that the only thing left for Kukon was to get clear, if she still could.

«All rowers man your benches!» he thundered, in a voice that carried over the swelling noise of the battle. «Port side rowers, push us off. Then everyone to ramming stroke!»

Oars clattered out through the ports and a gap of water began to open between Kukon and the Imperial ship. Some of the rowers on the starboard side continued to stand, firing muskets and bows, until they saw their comrades to port beginning their stroke. Then all the rowers went furiously to work. Kukon slid rapidly along the enemy's side and passed her stern.

«Why, Blade?» screamed Prince Durouman. «Why? We can take her and kill that traitor. We can!»

«We can't!» shouted Blade. «We haven't a chance. She's got two hundred of the Corps of Eunuchs on board besides her regular crew. Maybe more. We'd lose every man aboard Kukon trying to board against the eunuchs!»

«No!» the prince cried.

«Yes,» said Blade more quietly. «The commandant led us into a trap. There's nothing more we can do about it except get clear if we can.»

The prince stared at Blade, his eyes wild and red, his sword shaking in his hand. He snatched off his helmet and threw it down on the deck with a clang. Then he crumpled. He lurched and would have fallen to the deck if he hadn't been able to brace himself against the breech of a gun.

Blade had no more time to spare for Prince Durouman. He leaped off the foc'sle onto the main deck and ran aft. Reaching the stern, he ordered the gunners there to elevate their pieces and open fire on the enemy. They obeyed with a will. They hadn't been able to take any part in the battle until now, and most of them had comrades to avenge.

Kukon's stern guns kept up a steady fire until the two ships were out of range. Blade kept the rowers at the ramming stroke for another few miles, then let them slow down to the fast cruise stroke. It was not until the enemy ship was out of sight even from the masthead that he let the rowers leave their benches. Kukon's sails filled, and she swung away toward the north once more.

Then at last there was time to check the damage and casualties. Except for the dismounted bow gun, there was little serious damage. There were half a dozen shot holes, none of them below or even near the water line. That was all. Blade promptly set men to work with tackles and levers to remount the gun.

Casualties were another matter. Beside Luun, nearly thirty men had been killed and more than fifty wounded. Kukon's scuppers were running with blood, and wounded men lay groaning and screaming along every gangway.

Most of the casualties were among the boarding party rather than among the rowers. Only fifteen of Prince Durouman's guards were still on their feet, and some of those were wounded. The prince himself had been grazed by three balls.

The prince sighed with more than the pain of his wounds when Blade reported the casualties. «It was all my fault for listening to that-!» Words failed him and his shoulders slumped again. He looked as if he wanted to jump over the side and let his armor carry him down into the depths, into an oblivion where he could forget the men his error had killed.

«Cheer up,» said Blade. He had long ago learned that there was no point in lamenting mistakes already committed-only in learning from them. «We've still got a seaworthy ship under us and a crew that can row and fight her behind us. We can approach the pirates just about as well as we could have anyway.»

«The pirates, yes,» said the prince. «But what will the commandant say to Kul-Nam? What will that monster do? How much does the commandant know?»

«He knows most of what we've planned,» said Blade reluctantly. «He also knows that you're making this move on your own, that the Five Kingdoms have nothing to do with it. So they may not be attacked.»

«You're assuming that Kul-Nam is sane,» said the prince bitterly. «You know perfectly well that he isn't.»

«Not sane, perhaps,» said Blade. «But he probably still has enough common military sense not to attack the Five Kingdoms for something they haven't done.»

«I hope so,» said the prince. «Does he know about Princess Tarassa's support of us?»

«If he doesn't know it for certain, I'm sure he can guess it. Why?»

«Kul-Nam might not attack the coasts of the Five Kingdoms. But he might attack Parine if he thinks Tarassa has aided his enemies.»

Blade laughed. «Let him. Parine is about the toughest proposition he could tackle. If he does try there, he's likely to get his fleet and army well mangled, enrage the Five Kingdoms, and have little to show for it.»

«I hope you're right,» said Prince Durouman. It was growing chilly as the sun sank toward the western horizon. The two men pulled their cloaks about them and went aft toward their cabins.