Manorborn: The Battles Between

Chapter 8

On the Leal, Hume was roaring commands as he strode the smokey deck, the cacophony of firing cannons filling his ears, along with the shouts and cheers of his men. A grim smile touched his lips as he strode the deck, calling out commands, watching the movements of the enemy ship, and planning his next move. He was not great tactician, he would be the first to say that, but Hume did have a feel for combat at sea, as his captain had noticed from past conflicts. Now, he stood tall on the deck, a hand resting on the pommel of his sword, eyes keen and seeing; a man in his element.

They had burst from the mist and taken the Blood Sail before them by surprise, landing several good shots against its hull before her crew could muster themselves together and join fully into the battle. But, the Blood Sails were a good crew, and they soon had themselves in order, and were firing back at the Leal with eager violence.

"Starboard cannons ready! I want that rudder gone!"

"Aye sir!" The Cannons Master was a striking woman of flame hair, amber eyes, and a tall, slender form. Now, as she strode the gun decks, her voice rang out with authority born of experience and skill as her red hair flared behind her like a fiery banner about her head.

"Master Liggins! Adjust your aim five degrees down!"

"Mistress Cogs, your aim 10 degrees up!"

"Let's show them what that Leal can do!"

"Aye sir!" Came the cry from a few dozen voices as the crew worked to alter the angle of their cannons according to what the Cannon Master had ordered. As they did so, the flame haired woman, Arlia by name, moved to one of the central cannons and adjusted its aim with her own intentions in mind.

Hume wanted to rudder gone, and he was right about that, but Arlia could also see a prime opportunity to bring down the captain as well.

Her aim was for the quarterdeck, where the captain's red coat could easily be seen, even through the smoke that now filled the air.

"Hold this shot, Mister Cogs, and fire on the upswell."

"Aye, Mistress Arlia." The squat dwarf nodded, sighting down the barrel and readying the fuse with a cold grin beneath his bushy beard.

"Remember, Mister Cogs, wait for the upswell, no matter what you hear from me. Understood?"

"Aye, Mistress, I hear ye."

Then came the waiting, the tension, as the Leal swung into position, as they prepared to face the fury of their foe's guns even while they readied to deliver their own fusillade of flame, iron and death. All was still, time held its breath, the sound of the waves against the hull seemed loud, tension a living presence among one and all. Minds raced with thoughts; could this be the moment they died? Would they taste victory? Was this their last battle?

Bodies tensed.

Eyes focused, gaze steely and hard.

Breath held.

Then.

"FIRE!!"

Arlia's command bellowed out with all the authority she could summon and, as one, the starboard guns on both decks sent forth their deadly cry amidst a wash of smoke and flame. Cogs, holding his fuse steady, waited a moment more then, as he had been commanded, he touched the fuse and his cannon joined the others in a chorus of fiery screams and roars as smoke filled the decks and washed out into the air between the ships.

The cannon fire struck the Blood Sail ship with devestating result. The metal balls hurtled through the air, screaming their shrieks of death as they cut through the space between the foes, then crashed through wood in an explosion of splintered and broken wood. Several shots struck the hull near gun ports and wreaked havoc among the gun crews as many were struck by flying wood, pierced by splinters as long and thick as a man's finger or larger, and several were struck full on by cannon balls; ending their existence abruptly. The blows struck rendered several guns inoperable for the battle.

But not all of them.

Several enemy guns belched forth flame and iron, sending their balls to smash into the Leal's hull and cause destruction there. Though it was not as effective as Arlia's crew, the response still did enough damage to wound several members of the gun crews, badly in some cases, and remove a half dozen guns from the battle.

But the Leal's strike had done the job.

The captain was swept from the deck, his limp and lifeless form born out to see by the cannon shot that struck him full on. The ball and its dead target fell to sea several feet out beyond the ships to sink to the bottom, leaving the crew without a captain. The rudder, though not destroyed, was heavily damaged, thus reducing the Blood Sails ability to move and manuever effectively.

"Well done!" Hume roared out. Turning to the helmsman, he commanded, "Get us along side her! It's time for pistols and blades to do their work!"

"Aye captain!"

Below decks, Arlia was seeing to the wounded, ignoring the piece of wood that had pierced her own forearm as she did so. Her focus was her crew, and she would not let a little thing like a splinter in her arm stop her from making sure all were safe. Hume found her standing mid deck, overseeing clean up, and preparation for another round.

"Master Arlia! Get yourself to the doctor now!" Hume commanded, pointing to her arm. "That needs seeing to, or it'll get septic and you'll lose the arm!"

"I'm fine, Mister Hume." Arlia spoke firmly, though she winced as she moved the wounded arm. 'Once the battle is done, I'll see the surgeon."

"Arlia." Hume came up to her, closer now, looking at her firmly, but kindly, "We cannot afford to lose you, and you risk yourself by not taking care of your own wounds. Leave someone in charge, get the surgeon to patch you up, and you can be back here quick. Now, go."

With a sigh and a nod, the flame haired Master Gunner left the deck and made her way to the surgeon's quarters.

"Gun crews main deck! It's guns and swords now!" Hume roared out as he made his way to the main deck.

The helmsman had put the Leal parallel to the Blood Sail, and, at Hume's command, grappling hooks were tossed over, and his crew pulled the ships close enough together that they could leap across to battle the Shaiden sailors face to face. Which they did with fiery eagerness.

Then, it was the crack of pistols and the clash of blades. Shouts and curses, chaos and blood, as battle raged on the main deck of the Blood Sail ship.

Hume was in the center of it all, first firing his brace of pistols, then drawing his blade and cutting and fighting Shaiden left and right while the battle swirled around him. He had no idea how many he killed, but every time one dropped, another seemed to step into place. His arm was growing weary, but he did not stop; he had to be strength for his crew, to fight on for them, and for his captain. He would let none of them down.

Then, silence, stillness so sudden it was startling.

Looking around him, the big Second Officer saw dead littering the deck; none of his, though he could see there were wounded to deal with, but all Shaiden laying still and limp on the bloody deck.

The ship was theirs!

A roar went up from the crew, an exhortation of victory that filled the morning air with their cries as pistols were fired into the air, and blades were lifted high in triumph.

Looking about him, Hume shouted with the rest. Then, dropping to his knee, leaning on his sword, he bowed his head and thanked the Maker for their victory. Seeing what their Second Officer did, the crew did the same, each offering words of gratitude for the defeat of their hated hunters to the One who had guided them.

Then, rising to his feet, Hume gave orders to have the bodies removed, the sails furled and burned, and the ships cleaned and repaired while they waited for the captain to return.

The battle was theirs.

But the war was just beginning.