Eagle of Seneca

by Corrina Lawson

  She lit the second bird faster. The wick sputtered and caught, but she forced herself to hold this one long enough to aim it.

  She let it go.

  The ships loomed closer as she began to fall faster. She was losing the wind. She didn’t bother to follow the path of the bird and instead lit the third one as fast as she could. Then she looked, saw the second bird hit the main mast of the flagship and explode into fire.

  One of the sails burst into flame.

  Take that, Romans!

  She let the third bird go, then another. One hit the stern, one the main mast in the same place as the one that had started the sails on fire.

  And then there was no time to do anything but hold on as the aquila came even with the flagship, dipped, and plunged into the burning mainmast.

  Flames began to lick at her. The aquila cloth caught the fire now eating the sails. Sky remembered Ceti’s words, reached back and released the harness. With a jerk, she fell against the frame and held on.

  She was surrounded in smoke and had no idea how high she was or how to get down.

  She coughed and waved her hand, hoping to see something.

  Below her, she saw the metal rung of a ladder in the main mast. Holding tight with one hand to the satchel and the remaining exploding birds, she swung out until her foot hit the metal rung.

  She let go of the satchel and, keeping one hand on the unsteady frame of the aquila, reached for the metal rung that must be obscured by the smoke.

  Her fingers closed around it. She hissed in pain as the hot metal scorched her palm. She gritted her teeth, let go of the aquila frame and grabbed the rung with both hands.

  She couldn’t suppress the short cry of pain as her other hand was burned. She let go, grabbed the leather handle of the satchel, wrapped it around her hand, and tried again.

  This time, the heat was tolerable. Down below, she heard cries and orders, but it was all in Latin so she had no idea of what was being said.

  She started down the metal ladder, hidden in the smoke. The mast grew wider, the rungs less heated, the smoke thinner. They would see her soon.

  She curled her body around the mast, lit another bird, aimed it below and released it.

  She heard the cries of alarm and then a mighty explosion shook the ship. It sent the vessel rocking from side to side.

  She held tight to the mast, praying not to fall.

  “Run! Jump over the side if you can’t steal a boat!”

  Sky knew that voice.

  Lake Wolf.

  Mother!

  Sky wanted to throw back her head and scream a war cry. She clambered down the mast, keeping one of the birds her hand as a weapon. Her eyes watered from the smoke, her throat burned, but she hadn’t felt this hopeful since Ceti had landed at her feet in Shorakapkok.

  At last, the smoke cleared enough that she could see the decking. She kicked out from the mast and leaped down.

  She hit the deck and slid to the left. The ship was listing that way. She dropped to her knees to keep her balance.

  Around her, there was chaos.

  To her right, Romans manned the lines of the row boats. Wind whipped more smoke away and she saw that Legate Makki commanded those men. He was waving his arm, his orders short and sharp.

  To her left were her mother and aunt and the other hostages, grabbing for the boats on the port side. They were hidden from Makki in the smoke. Sky ran to her mother.

  Lake Wolf’s eyes grew wide in astonishment and she hugged Sky to her. “Fire from the sky indeed, daughter!”

  Sky nodded. “They can’t see you yet. Get over the side now, get away however you can.”

  “Once the explosions started, we rushed the guards. I blessed the Romans in Manhatos for good aim, but now I see it was you.”

  “Go! Go into the water, if you have to,” Sky said.

  “We go together or not at all.”

  “I have to cover our escape.”

  Sky turned and lit another bird, aiming it into the belly of the ship.

  “Sky!”

  Her mother pushed her out of the way as Ahala rushed her, knife in hand.

  The three of the hit the deck together. Sky lost hold of the bird. It shot straight up.

  Ahala slashed at her with his knife, but another explosion wracked the ship and it listed further, throwing his strike off-balance. Lake Wolf scrambled to her feet and kicked Ahala in the knees.

  Sky drew her own knife and stabbed at their attacker. He rolled away, directly under the main mast.

  Another man appeared out of the smoke and grabbed Lake Wolf from behind.

  Legate Makki. Sky scrambled to her feet, knife in hand. A horrific crack sounded above them. Sky looked up.

  The aquila, broken in two, streamed down at them. Sky jumped to the right. Ahala groaned and began to rise. He sneered at Sky.

  “Stupid woman, you can’t—”

  The broken edge of the aquila’s frame hit him in the throat and drove him down to the deck.

  Blood gushed forth as Ahala was pinned by the frame cutting through his throat. He made a gurgling sound and went still.

  Ceti and I got you at last, you son of weasels and snakes!

  “Mother!” Sky yelled.

  “Get away, Sky!”

  Sky could barely see Makki dragging her mother away to the right, back to the Romans. She screamed in frustration, lit the last bird and let it go, aiming past Makki to the boat the legate wanted to use to escape.

  She heard a wooden thunk, then another explosion seemed to split the very world under her feet. She tumbled down the sloping deck, and lost sight of her mother and everything else.

  It was a shock when she hit the cold water.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ceti watched Sky’s flight long enough to make certain she was soaring. The aquila caught the wind and began to level off.

  Perfect.

  Then it disappeared above the cloud of smoke that he’d created.

  Ceti raced down his steps at a breakneck pace, as if he could somehow follow his wife. He barely noticed the streets as he rushed to the wall, nearly knocking over the leader of a fire crew in his haste. Ceti mumbled a quick apology to the man and began running once more.

  It was eerily quiet as he reached his destination. The Imperial cannons had gone still. The soldiers were lined up in their hidden formations, grim and silent, mentally preparing for the battle.

  Tabor was still on the wall, visible to everyone, looking down at the docks and the beach below. Ceti took the steps up to him two at a time.

  Mykle, Gaius, and the medicus were with Tabor, though the medicus was huddled out of sight of the men, behind one of the stone abutments. There was no sign of Dinah. Perhaps she’d gone back to the villa and out to the tunnels to meet the Lenape warriors.

  “Sky made it through the smoke at a good height,” Gaius said.

  Ceti nodded.

  “You are well come,” Tabor said through teeth clenched in pain. “Dinah told me about the Lenape warriors coming to join us. Manhatos owes you, Ceti. Your flight to Shorakapkok may save us all.”

  “Manhatos owes Sky and her people,” Ceti said.

  Tabor dug his fingers into the top of the stone wall and turned to look back at the shore. Loose concrete crumbled to dust under his hand.

  “How is he?” Ceti whispered to Mykle.

  “He can barely stand. He won’t be able to fight.”

  Tabor snorted. “I heard that, Mykle.”

  “Then listen,” Mykle snarled.

  Tabor waved a hand at the soldiers below. “They’ve never been involved in anything but a skirmish, save for the veterans of Seneca that I’ve scattered among their commanders. If I’m not here to lead them, they’ll break and run when faced with Makki’s seasoned regulars, trap or no trap.”

  The silence was broken by a loud explosion. Ceti rushed to the wall beside Tabor, hoping against hope to see what had happened. But smoke still blanketed the ships in the East River.r />
  “What in Mars’s name was that?” Gaius said.

  “My exploding birds,” Ceti answered. Cannon fire would have been muffled. Not the birds.

  “Then Sky is doing damage to the enemy,” Tabor said.

  “Yes,” Ceti said.

  “Here they come,” Mykle said, looking through a distance viewer.

  Ceti squinted and saw legionary landing boats on the beach. He tried to count them and stopped at fifty.

  “Time to go,” Tabor said.

  He took several steps and then fell to his knees behind the stone abutment. The medicus eased him back against the wall and took off his helmet.

  “Commander, you’re going nowhere,” the medicus said.

  “Fickle, thrice-cursed Mars.” Tabor closed his eyes. “Ceti, come here.”

  Ceti knelt at his commander’s side.

  “Take my helmet, armor and cloak. Be me. Lead the defense of this city.”

  Ceti heard the words but they made no sense to him. Lead an army?

  Be Tabor?

  “Father, I will do it,” Gaius said.

  Tabor opened his eyes and smiled. “You’re too short, son. The soldiers will know it’s not me. Ceti is my height and size. He can pass with my armor and helmet.”

  “I can lead them,” Gaius repeated.

  “Yes, you can. But they don’t know you,” Tabor said. “Part of winning a battle is belief in your commander. We’ve no time to let them get used to a new one. You should know that from your studies.”

  “No one can be you, sir,” Ceti whispered. “They’ll know—”

  “They won’t, Engineer. I’ve watched you. You’ll keep your wits about you. You know the plan. You’ll lead them well and by battle’s end, when the ruse is revealed, they’ll be calling your name. Besides, I told you that you owed me for your disobedience. This is my price.”

  Ceti nodded, his throat too closed for words.

  Tabor’s voice grew fainter. “Mykle, help get this armor off me.”

  Ceti discarded his own armor and helmet. Mykle handed him Tabor’s chestplate, embossed with Seneca’s eagle. Gaius helped him with the straps.

  When Ceti put the helmet over his head, he felt like a different man. Mykle completed the costume by settling the red cloak over his shoulders.

  Tabor grinned weakly. “You’ll do.”

  May that be true.

  “I’m going with him,” Gaius said.

  “No! I lost your father in battle,” Tabor said. “I promised both him and your mother to keep you safe.”

  “My father should have been a scholar and stayed out of war,” Gaius said. “I’m a soldier, as you taught me. If I can’t fight now, I don’t deserve to hold Seneca after you. It’s my time.”

  Tabor reached out and grasped his stepson’s forearm. His face was pale and bleak. “I can’t survive another loss, boy,” he whispered. “I can’t.”

  “If I can’t be what I am, you’ve lost me already,” Gaius said.

  Tabor winced and closed his eyes.

  “I will be his protector, Tabor,” Mykle said quietly. “Gaius is right. He is either a man now or he never will be.”

  “Or he’ll be dead. I don’t—” Tabor shook his head. “Fine. And may Mars take and torment Ahala and Makki forever if you fall. Though if I get to them first there will be nothing left for the gods.”

  “I’ll settle for Makki’s head cleaved from his neck.” Mykle picked up his long-axe, the most wicked weapon that Ceti had ever seen. If they had an army of Mykles, they would win this.

  Instead, they had an untested legion against a seasoned, veteran force.

  “Thor would approve of today,” Mykle said.

  Tabor grunted. “Be careful. Otherwise the oversize bed I had made for you will go to waste.”

  Mykle saluted his lover in the Roman way, with his fist to his chest.

  Ceti swallowed hard. What was it like, to carry around the pain of loss all one’s life? Ceti glanced through the smoke, hearing the echo of more of his exploding birds.

  I never want to find out.

  He strode away from Tabor and the medicus to the steps. The others followed him at the same brisk pace.

  “Gaius,” Ceti said. “Take these orders down to the men. We stand and wait until Makki’s Legion hits our mud trap. Then, we fire the ballistas. Then the arrows and javelins. Then we charge them.”

  “Why not just keep bombarding them?” Gaius said.

  “Because we want to destroy their army,” Ceti said. “Those not trapped in the mud will eventually retreat and attack from a different direction. We want to surround them before they find a more defensible position. We have to prevent them from regrouping.”

  Gaius saluted him with a grin. “As you wish, Commander. My father chose well.” He raced ahead down the stairs.

  Ceti took one last look at the river.

  He still could not see the fleet clearly.

  He had to hope that Sky survived. Somehow.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The cold splash of water pulled Sky back to awareness. At first, she flashed back her desperate swim in the Mahicanituck River when she’d chased after the Viking longboat. Had the rest truly happened?

  A longboat oar swept past her left hand. Perhaps she was still in that swim, dying, having imagined all since then.

  The oar splashed near her again, hitting her shoulder. She cleared the water out of her eyes and saw the longboat.

  Hands grabbed her from behind.

  She began to struggle. It could be one of the Romans, they could want—

  “Sky of the Lenape, please stop struggling. I’m getting cold and want back on my ship,” Gerhard said.

  She went limp and allowed him to hold her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came for a battle,” he said. “So far, I’m not disappointed save that you didn’t leave the flagship for me.”

  Gerhard directed her to move around to his back and hold tight. She did, though her fingers felt numb. He climbed up the side of his longboat, using a line as a brace. When they reached the rail, he tumbled over and she lost her grip and hit the deck hard.

  “Sorry,” Gerhard muttered. “Getting old.” He shook himself, like a big shaggy animal. “I could use one of those hot Roman baths now.”

  He straightened. “Report!”

  “Chief, the wind’s shifting!” A red-haired boy yelled to him. “The smoke will be all gone soon.”

  “Did we pick up all the survivors from the flag ship?”

  “All we could see,” the boy answered.

  “Then start backing us out of here because they can see enough to aim their cannons,” Gerhard yelled. “And, Ragnor, signal your father’s boat. Tell him the same.”

  “Aye!”

  The boy put a whistle to his lips and blew out a series of high-pitched calls. Sky looked around. She could dimly see the shapes of the Imperial warships around them. Off to the right, one warship was consumed in flames, throwing black smoke into the sky.

  “Oh, and we have some passengers you might like to meet,” Gerhard said.

  “Sky!”

  She was enveloped in hugs by several women, including her aunt and two of her older cousins. She hugged them back, fiercely.

  “You rescued us,” her aunt said. “Thank you.”

  “You helped rescue yourselves.” She stepped out of the hug. “Where’s my mother?”

  “Here.”

  Her mother sat with her back against the hull of the side. There was a nasty cut from her shoulder to her elbow that still oozed blood.

  Sky knelt next to her and hugged her close. “I should have done better.”

  “You swept down from the sky, set their ship on fire, killed Ahala, and freed us,” Lake Wolf said. “How could you have done better?”

  “You would not be hurt,” Sky said.

  “I will live.” Lake Wolf frowned. “I did not expect that. I think Makki genuinely did not want to kill me. He was merely trying to
restrain me when the ship bucked and I was able to escape him.”

  Sky thought of how Ahala had spared her that first night and her father’s whispered words before death about being promised his family would not be hurt. Perhaps Makki kept his promises better than Ahala.

  “We need to join the battle.” Sky straightened, addressing Gerhard.

  “No,” he said. “We’ve cut down four of the warships with battering rams but once they can see us, their cannons will tear us apart. We have to retreat up river and around the west side of the island.” Gerhard put his hand on Sky’s shoulders. “We’ve done our part. It’s up to others now.”

  Sky nodded. Dinah was also still in danger and she had no doubt that Gerhard would do all to rescue his wife. If he said retreat was necessary, then it was.

  She knelt next to her mother as the longboat cut through the waves. Her aunts and cousins surrounded her. She told them the tale of the aquila and the exploding birds as they retreated.

  Sky had her mother back but it could be nightfall before she knew Ceti’s fate.

  ****

  Ceti found that if he kept quiet and used gestures and grunts instead of spoken orders, the soldiers accepted him as Tabor. Only Breda twigged to the deception, but he merely nodded and shrugged.

  Ceti strode to the front of the ranks, trying to put as much attitude or command or whatever it was that Tabor did when he walked. He kept the red cloak billowing around him. That seemed to help. Mykle handed him a far viewer as they reached the edge of the broken wall.

  Ceti tensed as the enemy marched forward, shields at the ready. One of these days, Ceti mused, he would have to find a way to make the cannons smaller and more portable so he could hand-carry them and use them against an advancing army like this one.

  Legate Makki’s standard flew from the rear, likely to keep his army advancing by pushing them from behind.

  Ceti raised his arm as the first of the enemy marched straight into the mud trap. Their front rank stumbled and regained their footing.

  Ceti clenched his raised hand into a fist. They needed to get the soldiers closer and struggling in the mud before launching the attack.

  An Imperial soldier fell to his knees, breaking the order of the second rank. Ceti smiled in grim satisfaction. A second, then another, then about a third of the first cohert slipped and went down.