The Mahogany Ship (Sam Reilly Book 2)

by Christopher Cartwright

  It was so tall that, despite its base being at the level of the bay, the highest point was even higher than myself, who was perched at the very top of the two-hundred-foot mast.

  At the pyramid’s crest, I could see a number of men surrounding something that stood at their center and reflected golden rays of sunlight, so powerful that the entire point appeared to glow with gold.

  I gave my report to a messenger half way down the mast, who then relayed it on to my master waiting at the bottom for the first report.

  My master appeared confident and in his normally commanding presence, despite the pyramid being just as terrifying as he’d described it.

  His calmness changed to urgency when he noted the message regarding the golden cylindrical device.

  “Hard to starboard! All ships, hard to starboard.”

  Even at the top of the mast I heard my master bellow the order.

  The signal flag was raised and all three ships turned in unison.

  Half way through their turn, it happened.

  Still aloft in the crow’s nest I had the clearest view of the battle.

  A flash of lightning struck the ship ahead of me as though the Gods had struck it down. The heat was so powerful that it blew a hole in the front section of the ship the size of a house.

  The ship’s commander immediately ordered the catapults, which had already been armed prior to rounding the peninsula, to fire. He even managed to get more than twenty off before he realized what was happening.

  The hole in the front of his ship was so large that he was swamped within minutes. Before our ship even managed to complete the turn, the other was on its way to the sea beneath. The next shot struck the ship to his rear and this time its commander did not attempt to return fire but instead focused entirely on keeping his ship afloat. It was a futile attempt and within forty seconds the second ship was on its way to the bottom.

  Below, I saw that my master had taken as much of an evasive position as could be expected under attack from such superior weaponry.

  He rounded the second sinking ship.

  I could do nothing but watch as my master made the painful decision to keep going and let the crew of the second ship drown. By the time the second ship was destroyed, the enemies had taken their Godforsaken weapon and aimed it at my master’s ship.

  It struck no more than a few feet behind our stern.

  The water, more than twenty feet of it, turned to steam, but our ship carried on. As we rounded the peninsula again, a second bolt of energy was released.

  This time it made contact with the most aft of the masts.

  It was disintegrated instantly, the charred remains of its scout falling onto the deck below – and then we were round the peninsula and safe from its violent rays.

  I quickly climbed down the mast in time to hear my master give the command to take the ship due east, away from the violent reach of such a catastrophic weapon.

  I have watched my master after many battles over the years, but this one seemed different. There had never been one like this, in which more than two thousand men were lost before the battle even started.

  But his ship, thankfully, had survived.

  “Rat Catcher – this has been a good day!” my master said.

  “Yes, it has, Master,” I dutifully agreed, although I had no idea what my master was talking about, after watching two thirds of his fleet die within the space of twenty minutes before any of the ships were even within range to return a single attack.

  “Do you know what makes today so very special?” my master asked.

  “No, master. I do not.”

  “That weapon we saw is more powerful than any possessed by all of our enemies and friends alike. Of the entire realm wherein we live, I doubt we would find another like it were we to sail for the rest of our lives and well into the next.”

  “Nor have I, Master,” I agreed.

  “And that’s why, Rat Catcher – we are going to steal it.”

  Pyramid Fortress June 10, 1442

  It had taken hours for my master to explain how we were going to capture such a powerful weapon, but by the time he had finished I knew exactly what must be done. Regardless of the risk, I would happily take the chance with my own life – because my master had asked.

  I followed my master and four other men around the ancient path that cut across the peninsula. The jagged path was cut deep into the rocky mountain. My master moved fast along the dangerous ledge.

  To the left, where the mountain could be seen high above, a small pocket of dense vegetation appeared unnatural as it struggled to maintain its grip on the rock.

  My master smiled as he looked upon it and said, “Ah, here it is.”

  “Here what is, Master?” I replied.

  “What I’ve been looking for.”

  My master grinned, mischievously, as though he were playing a game, reached behind the tree, and pulled hard on something. The sound of wheels and pulleys turning could be heard from somewhere inside the mountain, but nothing else happened.

  I looked at my master, but said nothing.

  No one else in our party was willing to question my master, either.

  Then the boulder twenty feet ahead of us slid to the side.

  “Welcome gentlemen, to my father’s land.”

  No one spoke, but the revelation of our master’s heritage was palpable.

  Each man, slowly crouched down and entered the tunnel. It was cramped, and with the exception of myself, they had to remain stooped to stay inside.

  The cavern was dark, making it difficult to see where the opening went.

  I looked around. There was nothing to suggest that the cavern had been purposely built, or that it had once been someone’s home. There was no evidence of any previous human interaction or other animal, for that matter.

  Behind me, I heard the enormous boulder start to move again – closing the gap to the outside world.

  One of my master’s men tried to move quickly to stop it.

  “No, let it close,” my master ordered.

  “But we’ll be trapped!”

  My master ignored the man’s protest, simply holding him firm with his giant left arm. The boulder finished moving, completing blocking our view of the outside world and leaving us all in total darkness.

  No one spoke.

  I alone, amongst them, felt entirely comfortably with my master’s decision. With religious doctrine, I was confident that my master had a grand purpose in life.

  As though I was being rewarded for my faith, I heard the sound of more ropes and pulleys moving. A moment later, a secret door at the back of the cavern opened, and a light-filled room came into view, which was large enough that even my master was able to stand comfortably.

  “Follow me, gentlemen,” my master ordered as he led the way, only having to crouch to get through the small door before being able to stand tall.

  The room opened up and became filled with natural light.

  “This is called the king’s travel vault. There are several built into this track, so that the king can take refuge when required. In doing so, the king can travel light, with only a few royal guardsmen to accompany him.”

  “And how did you know about the king’s vault?” I asked.

  “Because he’s my father.”

  “And what are we doing here, Master?” One of my master’s other men spoke up.

  “Betraying him.”

  *

  We waited for the soldiers to come. From above, we had an uninterrupted view of the path below. It was an easy ambush and we slaughtered all eight men by throwing large rocks down upon them, before they had a chance to warn another watch tower.

  We stole their armor and quickly donned it.

  It was basic, but identified us as part of the civilization.

  Only my master stood out amongst us, because he wore a solid gold pendant around his neck with a jade picture of one of the thirteen creator gods on at the center, making him look regal.
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  Within two days we reached the eastern side of the Great Tower.

  The place looked even more enormous and sinister from our low vantage point as we saw it.

  There, we waited until night came.

  My master arranged for our ship to be rowed towards the harbor in front of the pyramid fortress as soon as the sun left the horizon and the weapon was rendered useless. They were to come in close and carry plenty of lighting to maintain the façade.

  We waited until the second watch of the night, and then went forward towards the Great Tower to steal the most valuable weapon the civilization had harbored for more than a thousand years.

  Where luck now played its part.

  *

  As I watched from a distance, my master walked with the confidence of a man who knew that royal blood flowed in his veins as he approached the pyramid.

  A royal guard noticed him.

  “Master, I thought you’d commenced the attack?” The guard looked nervous, as though he was expecting something to be wrong.

  “Soon – but we have a new plan. My father has decreed that I should move the weapon to the edge of the mountain, so we can strike our enemy down when they are on the retreat and believe that they are safe having rounded the crest of the mountain.”

  “A clever plan, master,” the guard replied, obsequiously – obviously keen to avoid confrontation.

  Together, my master’s men carried the weapon down the stairs and along the ancient stone path that led to the edge of the inlet.

  With every sound, my ear pricked with fear as though each one might indicate that the ruse had failed, and that my master’s family were going to kill him.

  But the sound never came.

  By the end of the second watch we reached the rowboat, secretly left at the shore by his crew.

  Carefully loading the heavy weapon in the center of the boat, we all knew that any accident resulting in the weapon being lost overboard would mean that it could never be retrieved again.

  By the fifth stroke of the oars, I thought we had made it.

  “Well Rat Catcher, there’s a tale to tell your grandchildren – if you were still capable of having them.” My master laughed as he said it.

  I started to reply, but he didn’t hear what I said.

  In the distance, his ship was on fire.

  *

  We rowed faster to our ship only to discover that my master’s twin brother had attacked the ship. Our crew were strengthened by the return of their master and were able to fight off the assailants, but not before all but one of the masts were destroyed.

  Every man on board then fought hard to save the ship from burning. By the morning, we were far from land, and the fire was doused.

  The narrow escape was almost mythical.

  My master ordered the men to continue rowing past the next two harbors, with the intention of going ashore at the third to make repairs.

  After three days, we reached the third harbor, but as we rowed in towards it our waiting enemy threw thousands of stones at us from the high mountainside. Few reached us, but those that did destroyed everything in their path.

  If we had been under sail, we could have never turned around in time.

  As it was, the rowers were already at their oars and were able to immediately change the direction of the strokes.

  For nearly a week, each time the ship came close to the shore it was attacked. My master became increasingly worried that his enemy had a much better means of communicating from each outpost than he had predicted and would soon attack him with their own warships.

  It was a risk that my master was not willing to take.

  On the fifth day, he ordered his senior commanders to the deck and said, “It is my intention to return to our homeland with the weapon. We have one mast intact and will be able to keep rowing as we cross. Our supplies are less than I would like, but I fear that any attempt to go ashore to replenish them will put us at far too much risk of losing the weapon. Once we are out to sea, their ships will never find us again.”

  There was a general agreement with our master that they would be able to successfully row across this vast ocean.

  And so, with the fatalism of all slaves who served a master, we rowed towards home.

  *

  Again, Sam skimmed through the journal until he reached what he was after – the final chapter in the fate of the Mahogany Ship.

  Southern Land, August 8, 1442

  I watched as the days went by, and my master struggled to maintain our latitude with the strong winds and currents continuously pushing our ship further south. With all but one of our masts destroyed, we struggled to maintain a northern latitude as we headed east. Instead, we were forced past the southern land.

  Our supplies were not going to last with the increased effort caused by the constant rowing.

  After three months at sea and the death of one third of the crew to malnutrition, my master made the decision that we would have to come ashore in the new land.

  We had no identifiable lands from which to take a bearing, but the temperature suggested that we had deviated much further south than our homeland. By this stage it didn’t matter. We were going to have to find some fresh water, food, and some means of repairing the decimated masts.

  The shore was edged by a rocky cliff, making it impossible to land.

  We followed it for three days before finding a place that allowed a ship to anchor. It had a rocky bottom, but the anchor held in the calm weather. Although it would most likely be useless if the swell or wind picked up at all.

  A rowboat was dropped, and my master ordered several of his advisers to come ashore with him.

  “You’d best come ashore, too, Rat Catcher – I may need your advice.”

  I beamed at the praise from my master and dutifully took my place, as the smallest man, at the very front of the rowboat.

  The enormous shoulder muscles of the slaves swelled while they rowed towards the alien land. Once we reached the shore, the slaves pulled the rowboat up on to the beach and I scurried up onto the beach.

  Our weary group followed my master over the large sand dunes and into the land beyond. It was flat and the flora sparse. This would not be the place to fell trees and rebuild our masts. A large river could be seen up ahead, running towards the ocean. Somewhere it would become fresh and drinkable.

  Men went ahead to find it.

  And my master paced.

  After hours, my master stopped and said, “All right men – what do you make of it?”

  “Do you mean where we go from here or if we can even provision at this place?” the chief advisor and oldest person in the party asked.

  “Where do we go from here?” my master clarified. “We have already spent nearly a week just trying to find an adequate place to make landfall. Our men are weakening, and we have no way of knowing whether or not this will be our best chance.”

  “My best prediction is that we are almost due south from the homeland. If we could somehow cross this landmass, we would be in a perfect position to reach north towards home.” The navigator spoke.

  “Then we should row around this land mass,” The leading engineer said. “This land offers little with which to repair your ship, master.”

  “Do you think it will sail much further, given its long list of wounds?” my master asked.

  “No.”

  “Then the decision has been made for us.”

  “Tell me, master, what that decision is,” the lead engineer asked.

  “We’re going to carry the ship across this body of land,” my master ordered.

  It was the sort of stubborn solution that my master would come up with. Something that he knew was as entirely unreasonable as it was necessary, its success a certainty in the giant’s mind. I knew that I, along with all the men aboard, would happily follow my master in his belief – towards our certain deaths.

  *

  Again I stood at my post on top of the remaining mast.


  At two hundred feet, I was in the best position to ensure that the ship wasn’t heading directly for a large reef or rock bed. The rowboats had been used to scout the area, but the eagle’s nest offered the best vantage point. From there I could immediately see any changes in the water color and by now I was well accustomed to determining what those changes meant.

  On my master’s orders the men rowed the ship at full speed towards the sandy beach with the fatality of men who served their master at all cost. I watched as the color turned from a dark blue to a light green, and then finally the sand could be seen below the keel.

  There was a loud crunch as the flat bottom of our wooden ship came into contact with sand, followed by a series of vibrations that resonated throughout the ship, causing the eagle’s nest to sway ever so slightly.

  For a moment I was worried it was going to tear the hull in two.

  Then the bow of our gigantic ship reached the sandy beach.

  Riding its own wave – which must have been twenty feet high at least, it continued to move high up the first of the shallow sand dunes as if there had been nothing in our way. Her momentum carried her forward like the monster she was.

  We passed all four sand dunes as though they weren’t even there.

  The ship finally came to rest more than a hundred feet along the new, flat, earthy land. So much water had come with us that our massive ship now appeared to be resting in a small lake of its own creation, several feet deep and as much as a mile wide.

  *

  My master seemed invigorated by the progress we were making.

  He stood on the highest hill in the distance and examined his ship. It had been a week, and still it rested in a small lake. It appeared bigger, if that was even possible, out of the water.

  Men were working in all directions. Tasks had been set and teams had been formed to achieve specific purposes. My master confided in me that they were already looking much better for their efforts. Men needed tasks. Idleness often bred poor health. So did a lack of nutrients, but that too was in the process of being rectified.

  A great foraging party had been sent for miles in all directions to return with provisions. Strange new animals had been found and slaughtered. A great variety of berries had been located and those rich in nutrients were identified, compared with those that were lethal. The men followed their orders and tested the new foods until the ship’s master doctor had a long list of edible, difficult, and lethal plants and animals.