The Galley

by Paul Howard

  “What of it?” Severus demanded. “It is only a bird!” The astrologer raised his hand and pointed to the sky.

  “It is a warning, sir. Beware! Do not put to sea.”

  “We are not going to put to sea today,” Severus retorted, “Not until tomorrow.”

  Severus looked at the faces of his men and to the other ships. All were staring at the bird, some crying and some kneeling in prayer. “That damn bird is frightening the men,” he called to his Centurion, “Send someone up with a pike and shoo it off…” This alarmed Sepulco so much he forgot himself and seized Severus’ arm.

  “No!” he demanded. “Great One, you are a mighty man but you cannot offend the Gods! The sign is given.” Severus snatched back his arm and sighed.

  “Alright, then! What do you recommend? Be quick!”

  “We must make a sacrifice to Neptune and Fortuna at once!” he replied.

  “What? Pour more oil into the sea?” Severus snapped.

  “Blood would be more appropriate, sir.” Sepulco suggested.

  “Blood?” sniffed Severus. “I am not going to bleed any of my men over this. What if we sacrifice that bird?”

  “It is very dangerous to joke of such things…” the astrologer replied but was swiftly cut off.

  “Ship ahoy!” came the cry from above. All eyes quickly turned to see just as a sail appeared over the horizon.

  It was Antonia.

  In the afternoon glare the distance made it impossible to guess what we were at first and Severus issued orders to prepare for another smuggler. The crews obeyed with a wary eye upon the dark visitor who still perched upon Agrippa.

  For nearly an hour they could not be sure of the approaching ship or the color of her sail. We were only a few miles away when the size of our vessel finally could be seen. Only a Septimus ship had such proportions and there was only one such ship in the world. We had been recognized. Severus and his officers were puzzled by the sight of us. Agrippa’s Centurion suggested that we were returning from our mission to the east.

  “Impossible,” Severus snapped, “Antonia is not due to return for months yet. She had no orders to join us here!” He squinted hard and scratched his chin.

  “What are you up to, Marcus?” he asked. “Send a signal!”

  The fleet looked intimidating even at a distance of some miles away and it looked even more so as the distance between us got smaller. There was the mighty phalanx of Septimus vessels guarding the northern side of the strait with the enormous Agrippa at the end. A truly impressive spectacle. We anticipated that surprise would give us an edge as we approached, for there was no reason to think they would suspect who we were. Our swift crossing had surely outpaced any rumors.

  It went as expected. We were only a few miles away when they finally seemed to recognize us. The watch aloft called down to us. “They are signaling to us!” Primus moved to the bow and shaded his eyes. “They know who we are,” he said, “They want us to drop anchor. They are also signaling for the Captain to report to their command ship!”

  He turned toward me and grinned.

  “What do you want to do?” he asked.

  “They expect us to strike sail when we reach them,” I said, “We will show them what they expect to see. Raise the flag and signal: ‘Order understood, will comply’!”

  “You intend to drop anchor?” he asked.

  “No,” I said, “But we will strike sail when we pull within a quarter mile, which is what they will expect us to do. We will come in under oars, make every show of compliance, and blast the first ship we come to in that phalanx point-blank!”

  “That should prove interesting!” he said, and gave the order for the signal. It had the desired effect. Once the signal was given there was no further sign of activity on any opposing ship. No sign of works or boarding parties could be seen. They had been deceived. As we drew to the quarter mile I ordered the sails struck and gave the order for standard speed below. The sails were lowered, followed by the splash of our oars and the slow drumming of hammers began. From our vantage point we could clearly see that every eye was upon us but there was no sign of alarm.

  In minutes that seemed like hours, we slowly drew closer to the first ship. We could now see who she was: The Apollo. I ordered a slight angle to starboard so we were heading straight for her port side and gambled that they would dismiss this as poor seamanship. We were now close enough that they could clearly see us, too. Although we were attired in the proper uniforms the alterations in our castle and other improvements in our design were being noticed. We could clearly see them pointing to these changes and talking among themselves.

  Our change to starboard was also generating concern as we drew near. We could hear shouts from the crew of Apollo telling us to correct our course. They were probably puzzled by the failure of our helm to respond. We could also see that they were puzzled by the strange tubes that were on our rails and the peculiar actions of the three men who seemed to be pointing them right at their broadside. They would not be puzzled for long.

  Apollo had made an improvement of her own since we last saw her. A stout, iron bow guard had been installed running from her poop to the waterline.

  The torch was lit. I gave the order to fire. The enemy’s eyes widened at these movements as the Chinese touched the torch to the first cannon on our bow. An ear shattering blast, a belch of white smoke. The howl of the shell, an explosion near the bow on her port side. The bow guard blew off of Apollo, which rocked from the impact.

  Another blast.

  The poop and port bow region of Apollo opened up and caught fire. A third blast hit her amidships near the waterline. Apollo heeled over hard and her mainmast collapsed to the deck and pulled her to port. She began to list and take on water. The roar of screaming and confusion erupted from Apollo’s insides as I ordered the helm hard to port and called for battle speed below. The rhythm of our hammers increased and we moved for the southern edge of the channel. We had sprung our surprise and needed to put distance between ourselves and the enemy.

  There was a strange, palpable feeling of confusion and shock which had taken hold of the enemy. We could sense it ourselves.

  On the Agrippa, confusion was even worse. From two and-a-half miles away they could hear the blast and see smoke but the cannon were not visible. But their effect on the Apollo was impossible not to see. Severus grasped the rail and squinted in confusion.

  “Merciful Gods!” he declared. “What was that, Rockets?” The Centurion struggled for an answer.

  “No, My Lord,” he said, “Rockets only produce flames! I have never heard of a rocket that can blow the bow of a ship open in one strike!”

  “Well, you have now,” he retorted, “Signal the far ships to close in!” As the Centurion carried out the order Severus studied us closely, Urbano was a loyal officer and Severus concluded that he must certainly be dead.

  “Perhaps a mutiny?” he thought. “But why had they come back?”

  He simply could not figure it.

  As the signal was sent out, the ships near us got underway and the sound of their splashes and hammers answered our own. As we drew parallel to the nearest one I could smell her works being started. One ship set out fast and was clearly on course to cross our path. Even though she was four ships away I recognized her at once, the Neopolis. We had a run in with her during the speed trials and she was moving to get to our port side.

  “Fire mines!” I shouted.

  As we passed by the first ship the arms crew moved to our starboard and lowered the canvas tube to the water. The Greek pulled the string and dozens of little boats moved toward the enemy ships. By the time the last ones had left we were drawing toward the third ship, which was also underway. Smoke rose from the second ship as she drew closer, her crews moving aloft to board us. She was almost in ballister range when the mines found her.

  An explosion, much smaller than the shells, hit on her port bow, flinging Greek fire up her side and into her forward riggings. Th
e sticky, flaming goo spread down her lines and licked at her jibs. Another one struck a little further back and had the same effect. Flaming men threw themselves from her decks into the sea. The invisible boats struck the second ship several times with the same effect, spreading fire amidships and setting her sheets ablaze. The second ship struck another, followed quickly by a fourth and was now completely engulfed in flames. The screams from her crew carried through the air as loud as the hellish crackle of her beams.

  The third ship went out of control and heeled to port. The Greek quickly put a shell into her amidships. Her mainmast collapsed and came down in flames on top of her. A weird sucking sound roared across the sea from within her bowels. She was sinking fast. The Commander of the fourth ship was now aware there was something invisible in the water and called for his oarsman to reverse.

  Too late.

  He was already in a field of the little mines and the flames erupted upon him from both sides. Falling away from our starboard, the Apollo had turned onto her side and was sinking by the head. Men crawled up her sides and looked like a swarm of bees. The second ship was now going down also. The third was spinning on the surface, like a flaming whirlpool. We had destroyed four ships and had not received a scratch. I could not believe our luck! It would not last.

  The Greek touched another wick and the air filled with that terrible metallic, whine. “MISFIRE!” he hollered and quickly pulled the pin with a savage jerk. This time the explosion was not underwater and Antonia took a savage blow that knocked us off our feet, injured several men below and burned the Persian so badly that he to be carried to the infirmary. It also knocked us right into the weapons range of Neopolis now directly to our port.

  The hard wooden twang rang at us and the air filled with sparks as before. The nasty, smelly smoke filled my nostrils once again and sparks surrounded us. I did not see it, but something hit me on the head so hard it almost knocked me unconscious. A ballister shot made a direct strike on my helmet. I was only out for a moment, but when I opened my eyes, I could see the plume of my dented helmet burning as the fire crews pulled me to my feet.

  Through the smoke I could see the archers charging up to the castle and taking positions. A cry arose from the boarding crews of the enemy preparing to strike. Through teary eyes I saw the Briton raise his sword as he hollered, “First Rank, Fire!”

  Another ballister volley struck us as fire rained down in sticking shards. I got a great splash in my face of water as a fireman flung a bucketful at the steerage lines near me. Below, I could hear the enemy shipping oars as a grapnel struck the railing four feet from me. Instantly, the sound of bows rang out from overhead and the air filled with arrows. This was quickly followed by groans and gasps from the enemy ship.

  I looked over in time to see men fall from her riggings, some into the water, others hitting the deck with a loud thud. I moved to the grapnel, drew my sword and chopped at the line, ducking another fire bomb as it just glanced past my head.

  “Second Rank, Fire!” was called, and another flight of arrows whizzed over our heads. More groans and thuds. The ballister volleys had stopped. I looked over and saw men falling upon the works, which were now burning out of control on Neopolis’ decks.

  “Third Rank, Fire!”

  Another flight with the same effect. The British trained archers fired again and again with mechanical precision, raining death upon our enemy until his decks were covered with injured and dead in layers one atop the other. The only man left aloft hung, fouled in the lines, with an arrow through his neck. The smell of burning flesh filled the air and angry, desperate screams came from below her decks.

  We too, had injuries now, many burns and other wounds. The decks of Antonia were covered with injured and dead. Fire and emergency crews were trying to help them. Primus grasped my arm and asked if I was alright. I assured him I was. He looked angrily at the Neopolis drifting away from us and aimed one of the port cannons at her waterline. Seizing the torch from the Greek, he touched the wick, which caused the cannon to fire higher than expected.

  What happened next shocked everyone who saw it on both sides of the battle.

  The shell missed the waterline and struck the ship just a few feet away from the main binding clip of the hull. This structure, located on the starboard side of the ship, holds the main binder, a structure going all the way around the ship to reinforce and retain the double woven hull of the Septimus design. A catastrophic weakness as it turned out.

  For no sooner had the shell hit than the clip broke with such force that it threw itself at us so hard it struck one of our archers and beheaded him at once. The great binder, all six hundred feet of it, flung itself off like a great spring, with such violence that it broke into countless pieces in all directions. The air filled with a horrible groan and a second later, the entire double-webbed hull unraveled and flayed itself open like a barrel upon the sea, revealing the entire superstructure and contents of the ship. Decks, cabins, men and all, but only for an instant.

  The entire superstructure collapsed and the decks caved in, one on top of the other, in a loud, dusty cacophony of destruction. Crushing and liquefying the slaves below instantly. It was one of the most gruesome and horrible things I had ever witnessed, or ever will. A cold shudder ran up my back. It was one of those moments that you knew everybody else who witnessed it felt the same thing, regardless of which side they were on.

  What had been a mighty warship only a few seconds before, was now an unrecognizable heap of shattered timbers and lines upon the sea. Only her keel could be recognized, bobbing helplessly on the water to support a ship that no longer existed. A deadly silence gripped everyone on all the ships, as the significance of this horror sank in.

  The Septimus design was not at all practical for a seafaring vessel and never could be. It would have to be abandoned as impractical and unsafe. For this reason alone, I would have forgone the rest of the battle and simply fled. For I knew, like everyone else at the battle, that the Septimus Dream was now finished forever. But something else was at play. The Master of the Agrippa had already seen weapons more valuable to an ambitious emperor than any superships could ever be and he was determined to get his hands upon them.

  30

  THE HAND OF GOD

  As the battle raged, confusing and increasingly detailed descriptions were moving up the phalanx to the command ship. The more detailed they were, the harder they became for most of the Romans to grasp. Many believed that the omen from above was a warning from the gods. Others believed that Antonia was an evil apparition sent by the gods. Still others doubted their own eyes and prayed to awaken from an evil dream. Others began to think that Antonia must have sunk and a ghost ship had risen from the depths of Hades to take her place.

  Severus had no such notions. As the descriptions of the clay cannons reached his ears, he too gasped in disbelief, but soon he realized that a new weapon was being used. He did not understand its operation but he appreciated that the people aboard Antonia did.

  The descriptions of the fire mines proved even more puzzling. None could see anything in the water but it seemed clear that the ships were hitting something that produced fiery explosions. Other reports had reached him from the commanders that they could smell alcohol in the air just after the bursts. Severus knew what Greek fire was and quickly put the concept of the mines together in his mind.

  As we tried to resume our course and clear our decks for more action, a brief pause was granted to us by the workings within our enemy’s own minds. Now unsure what to do, many of the commanders were prepared to let us go our way unmolested. Still others wanted no more engagement, fearing the fitness of their defect-prone ships for battle of any kind. It was as if the moment just hung there in time, with all unsure of the next move.

  As the last of our fires were extinguished and the decks cleared of dead and wounded, the silence across the water grew to a soft murmur. These were Romans and Romans do not accept defeat easily. The bravest, or most fooli
sh, if you prefer, now felt they had something to prove. Nobody best’s Mighty Rome with impunity. It simply is not done! Nobody on Antonia could hear very well now, the blasts and explosions had taken their toll upon our ears.

  The greatest harm caused by the misfire was below decks, where the concussion caused the air to pound the men with fierce pressure. All were shaking with shock and trauma and stimulants were given to all who needed it. Some had to be revived, others became so disoriented that they did not know where they were.

  Slowly the oarsmen were put back in their places and prompted to concentrate for the sake of their own survival. If they had actually witnessed the spectacle that had occurred off our port I do not doubt they might have abandoned their posts right there and then. I found myself hoping that we had done enough and would be allowed to depart without further engagement. I think most of my officers felt the same way. We had seen enough of this.

  But that was not to be. For no sooner did our hammers begin to sound than the hammers of two more ships answered. The Drusus and Misenum were underway, their works and crews ready to strike. Primus moved to the rail and glared at them in amazement.

  “Are they mad?” he exclaimed. “Have not they seen enough?”

  He turned toward me for a response but the grim expression on my face required no answer. “Tell the Greek,” I said without expression, “Order the torpedoes in the water.”

  “Yes, sir!” he replied and ordered the oars shipped before going aft. The Greek had already anticipated the order and the chute was loaded and ready. The Chinese pulled the threads and chute was lowered to the sea. Making a final inspection of the rudders, he pulled the string. Twelve little bees buzzed toward the enemy and quickly disappeared upon the sea.

  As soon as they were away, the oars returned to the sea and the hammers resumed. The men below were beginning to respond with greater swiftness. The commander of the Misenum noticed the actions of our oarsmen and saw the chute drop. Although he did not know what they meant, he realized that we had just done something. He had already seen what invisible weapons had done to his fellows. He immediately ordered his ship to reverse oars and move away.