By this time, of course, the balance of my fleet, eighteen ram-ships, would have struck the treasure fleet, now protected only by some ten ram-ships, from the northwest.
I was puzzled somewhat, but not too much, that our pursuit had been so relentless.
I had flown the flag of Bosk, from the marshes, boldly, trusting that this incitement would encourage prompt and fierce pursuit. Doubtless in Cos and Tyros there was a high price indeed on my head. I was puzzled only that the pursuit had been as relentless and prolonged as it was. I had not realized my importance to the men of the two island Ubarates. I chuckled. Apparently I was more significant to them than I had fancied myself.
It was the twelfth Ahn before the commander of the first pursuing ship understood either that he had been tricked or that he was not likely to overtake our ships.
"Rest oars!" I called.
I watched the tarn ship heave to, then port oars, and turn away.
"How are the men?" I asked the oar-master.
It was he who had been oar-master on the Rena of Temos.
"They are strong," he said. "You did not even call maximum beat."
"Rest them now," I said.
There were trumpet signals now from the ship that had been pursuing us, and flags on her halyards. The ships behind her began turning about. Some of the ships to the sides, perhaps having seen the flags with glasses from their stem or stern castles, also ceased the pursuit. Others were out of visual range, scattered somewhere on Thassa.
As soon as I saw the tarn ship which had been pursuing us begin to move away, I gave my orders.
"Come about," I said, "and maximum beat."
There was a cheer from the oarsmen.
I had little doubt the Dorna was swifter than the ship that had pursued her.
She was now moving away, perhaps at half beat.
I did not think she would have time to turn about again.
We fired no missile, and gave no warning.
We were within fifty yards of her before a seaman on her stern castle, looking back, screamed the warning.
The iron-shod ram of the Dorna splintered into her stern a foot below the water line.
"Back oars!" came the cry from the oar-master, and the Dorna, rocking and shuddering from the impact, chopped her way backward.
"Helmsmen pass to starboard!" I called. "Stroke! Maximum beat!"
The stern of the enemy ship was already under water as we slipped past her.
Crossbow quarrels struck the reinforced parapet protecting my rowers.
There were no other missiles.
We heard screams, cries of alarm.
There were still four ships ahead of us. The nearest was not more than a hundred yards before the one we had just struck.
The noise of our strike and the cries of the men aboard the rammed ship carried over the water.
We saw the ship ahead of us trying to come about, but, before she could make four points of the Gorean compass, our ram struck the corner of her stern, skidding through and freeing itself, the ships, the Dorna's port oars inboard, grating together, and then the Dorna was clear, free, and we were driving toward the stern of the next ship.
We heard trumpets blaring behind us frantically, trying to warn the ship ahead of us.
It, too, began to come about, and we caught her amidships, the ram thrusting through the heavy planking like kindling, then stopped by the shield, like a spread tarn's crest, and we chopped our way back and free, and then knifed past her stern toward the next two ships.
By this time the two ships ahead of us were well aware of their danger and, given the distances involved, neither captain elected to chance the dangerous maneuver of coming about to meet us. Both were fleeing at maximum beat.
"Half of maximum beat," I told the oar-master.
The oar-master grinned, and went to the center of the rowing frame.
As the beat dropped, I took out the glass of the builders and scanned the horizon.
I could see few ships, but most of those I saw were green, my own. I could see the wreckage of two of the enemy tarn ships. I was quite content, of course, if each of my ships not in view were continuing to lead their pursuers a merry chase. If each of them could lure their two or three hounds astray, the odds of engagement at the truly critical points would be so much the more in my favor. I was willing to spend one ship to draw two or three enemy ships from the battle, if battle there was to be. And, of course, as soon as the enemy ships would turn back, they would be vulnerable to my own, presumably faster vessels. Of the twelve ships in my diversion, five were my fastest and seven were among the fastest in the arsenal.
I now turned the glass again to the ship fleeing me. As I had expected, he had now begun to draw substantially ahead, since I had reduced to half of maximum beat. In another four or five Ehn I expected he would regard his lead as sufficient to permit him the time to safely come about and engage. He would be assuming, of course, that I, in pursuing him, was at maximum beat, as he was. I had held my beat to half of maximum. My oar-master had been calling the beat, this time, by mouth from the center of the rowing frame.
When I saw the tarn ship ahead, its captain doubtless confident of his speeds and distances, lift her oars, preparing to come about, I called to the oar-master, "Now!"
Without the loss of a stroke he, at the center of the rowing frame, began to call maximum beat, "Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!"
The Dorna, stern low, ram almost lifted from the water, leapt ahead, as beautiful, as eager and vicious as an unleashed sleen.
We took the fourth ship amidships, as we had the third.
Angrily the Dorna shook herself loose.
Then, in an Ehn, we were in pursuit of the last ship. It showed no sign of turning. It was now far in advance of us.
"Maximum beat," said the oar-master to his keleustes, and then came to stand beside me on the stern castle.
"Can we catch her?" I asked.
"Hand me your glass," he said.
I did so.
"Do you know the ship?" I asked.
"No," he said.
He looked at her for better than an Ehn, studying the rise and fall, the sweep, of the oars.
Then he said, "Yes, we can catch her."
He handed me back the glass.
He then went down the steps of the stern castle, to the helm deck, and then down to the chair of the oar-master.
"Three quarters beat," I heard him tell the keleustes.
I did not question him. I knew him to be a good oar-master.
From time to time I observed the distant ship growing farther and farther away.
But after about an Ahn and a half, when I again raised the glass, I saw that she was not much farther away than she had been when last I had looked. My own men were still drawing a strong three quarters beat.
The oar-master again joined me on the stern castle. He did not ask for the glass again.
"She carries one hundred and thirty-two oars," he said, "but she is a heavier ship, and her lines are not as good as those of the Dorna."
"Apparently," I said, "she has had to reduce her beat."
"She will be at three quarters now," he said, "as we are. One cannot maintain maximum beat that long. And at three quarters we can overtake her."
"Thank you," said I, "Oar-master."
He returned to his chair.
Doubtless it would soon become evident to our enemy also that she could not outrun us. Accordingly, sooner or later, she would turn to fight.
After a quarter of an Ahn, in the distance, I could see her, at last, come about.
"Quarter of maximum," I called to the oar-master. Then, about four Ehn later, "Rest oars."
The two tarn ships, the Dorna and the other, faced one another, motionless, save for their response to the swells of Thassa.
We were separated by some four hundred yards.
Since the principal weapons of the ram-ship are the ram and shearing blades, she is most dangerous taken head on. Accordingl
y, in such a combat situation, involving only two ships at sea, both ships commonly described the broad starboard circle, prowling about one another like wary sleen, exchanging missiles, watchful for the opportunity to engage with ram and blades. I had little doubt that the Dorna, a somewhat lighter ship, with better lines and shorter keel, would be more responsive to her helm than the other ship and that, sooner or later, as the circles grew smaller, she would be able to wheel and take her foe in the stern quarter or amidships.
Doubtless this was reasonably clear, also, to the commander of the other vessel. He had surely refused to engage. Now it seemed he had no choice.
He did what I expected.
His oars took up maximum beat and his heavy ship, the crest of the ram dividing the water before the concave bow, the tarn's beak just below the water line, plunged toward us.
I laughed. I had caught the other ship. I had proved the Dorna, and her oar-master.
The other ship did not truly wish to fight.
"Helmsmen," said I, "take your course four points to starboard."
"Yes, Captain," said they.
"Oar-master," said I, "we have an appointment with the treasure fleet of Cos and Tyros."
He grinned up. "Yes, Captain!" said he. Then he called to his keleustes. "Maximum beat!"
The ram of the other ship did not find us. As it plunged through Thassa we had slipped, as swiftly as a sleen, from its path, knifing by a hundred yards past his port bow, and soon leaving him astern. He did not even fire missiles.
I laughed.
I saw him turn slowly toward Cos.
I had removed him from the battle, if battle there was to be.
"Helmsmen," said I, "take your course now for the treasure fleet of Cos and Tyros."
"Yes, Captain," said they.
"Half beat," said I to the oar-master.
"Yes, Captain," said he.
* * * *
Matters had proceeded as I had expected at the treasure fleet. Of the forty tarn ships in her escort, thirty, lured away, had pursued my ships far from the critical points. I myself had damaged or destroyed four of these ships, and had removed a fifth from the theater of action. As my other eleven ships, one by one, began to return to the treasure fleet, the story was similar with them. Some of the enemy ships, however, in turning back from the chase, had been able to regroup and somewhere, abroad on Thassa, there was doubtless a fleet of some ten enemy tarn ships, still a possible threat. They had not yet returned to the treasure fleet. The others had been damaged or destroyed, or driven away. At the treasure fleet itself, while most of her escort pursued my diversionary ships, the other eighteen vessels in my fleet had fallen, suddenly, silently, on the ten tarn ships left behind with the treasure fleet. Using, on the whole, elementary triangle tactics, wherein an attack by two ships, from different quadrants, is made on a single ship, which can face but one of the attackers, my ships had, in a short time, less than an Ahn, destroyed seven of the ten ram-ships left behind at the treasure fleet. Two had been permitted to escape, and one lay, even now, penned in among the round ships. Some of the round ships, intelligently, had scattered, but, of the thirty originally in the fleet, there were now twenty-two ringed with our vessels. And another was soon herded in by one of my ram-ships, which, in returning to the fleet, had picked it up.
I was in no particular hurry to move against the captured round ships. They were mine.
I was more interested in the seven round ships that had fled.
Accordingly, as soon as a sufficient number of my ships had returned to the treasure fleet, I set about organizing a pursuit of the missing round ships. I communicated with my other ships by flag and trumpet, some of them conveying my messages to others more distant. I dispatched ten tarn ships abroad in search patterns, hoping to snare some of the seven missing round ships. Five of these search ships I sent in a net formation toward Cos, supposing this the most likely, if not the most wise, course that would soon be taken by the majority of the escaping round ships. My other five search ships I sent in sweeps away from Cos. If the endeavors of these various ships, after two days, were unsuccessful, they were to return to Port Kar. This left, after the last of my original eleven ships had returned, twenty of my ships with the treasure fleet, more than enough to counter any returning enemy tarn ships.
I ordered the mast raised on the Dorna. When the mast, with its sail fastened to its yard, had been set in the mast well, and stayed fore, aft and amidships, I climbed to the basket myself, carrying the glass of the builders.
I looked upon my twenty-three round ships, and was not unsatisfied.
Round ships, like ram-ships, differ among themselves considerably. But most are, as I may have mentioned, two masted, have permanent masts and, like the ram-ships, are lateen rigged. They, though they carry oarsmen, generally slaves, are more of a sailing ship than the ram-ship. They can, generally, sail satisfactorily to windward, taking full advantage of their lateen rigging, which is particularly suited to windward work. The ram-ship, on the other hand, is difficult to sail to windward, even with lateen rigging, because of its length, its narrowness and its shallow draft. In tacking to windward her leeward oars and rowing frame are likely to drag in the water, cutting down speed considerably and not infrequently breaking oars. Accordingly the ram-ship most commonly sails only with a fair wind. Further, she is less seaworthy than the round ship, having a lower freeboard area, being more easily washed with waves, and having a higher keel-to-beam ratio, making the danger of breaking apart in a high sea greater than it would be with a round ship. There are in the building of ships, as in other things, values to be weighed. The ram-ship is not built for significant sail dependence or maximum seaworthiness. She is built for speed, and the capacity to destroy other shipping. She is not a rowboat but a racing shell; she is not a club but a rapier.
I, swaying in the basket at the masthead, with the glass of the builders, smiled.
Penned in among the twenty-three round ships was a long galley, a purple ship, flying the purple flag of Cos. It was a beautiful ship. And the flag she flew was bordered with gold, the admiral's flag, marking that vessel as the flagship of the treasure fleet.
I snapped shut the glass of the builders and, by means of a slender rope ladder fastened at the masthead and anchored to a cleat near the mast well below, took my way down to the deck.
"Thurnock," I said, "let the flags of division and acquisition be raised."
"Yes, Captain," said he.
There was a cheer from the men on the deck of the Dorna.
I anticipated, and received, little resistance from the round ships. There were various reasons for this. They had been herded together and could not maneuver. They were slower than the ram-ships and, under any conditions, little match for them. And their rowing slaves, by this time, were fully aware that the fleet encircling them was that of Bosk, from the marshes.
Vessel by vessel my men boarded the round ships, commonly meeting no resistance.
The free crews of these ships, of course, were hopelessly outnumbered by my men. The round ship, although she often carries over one hundred, and sometimes over two hundred, chained slaves in her rowing hold, seldom, unless she intends to enter battle, carries a free crew of more than twenty to twenty-five men. Moreover, these twenty to twenty-five men are often largely simply sailors and their officers, and not fighting men. The Dorna, by contrast, carried a free crew of two hundred and fifteen men, most of whom were well trained with weapons.
In an Ahn I stepped across the plank thrown from the rail of the Dorna to that of the flagship of the treasure fleet. The ship itself, by my men, had already been subdued.
I was met by a tall bearded figure in a purple cloak. "I am Rencius Ho-Bar," said he, "of Telnus, Admiral of the Treasure Fleet of Cos and Tyros."
"Put him in chains," I told my men.
He looked at me in fury.
I turned to Clitus, who had been on the ship before me. "Do you have the master cargo lists?" I asked.
He presented a folio-sized book, bound with golden cord and sealed with wax, bearing the impress of the Ubar of Tyros, Chenbar.
The admiral, to one side, was being fitted with wrist and ankle irons, joined by a length of chain.
I broke the golden cord and the seal and opened the master cargo lists.
They were most excellent.
From time to time, as I scanned the lists, there was a cheer from one round ship or another as her slaves were freed. The free crewmen, of course, were placed in chains, men and officers alike. The distinction of man and officer does not exist on the benches of a galley.
"Admiral!" said the admiral of the treasure fleet to me.
I glanced to the gold-bordered, purple flag, the admiral's flag, flying from the halyard strung between the forward starboard mooring cleat and the height of the stem castle. "Strike that flag," I said, "and put there the flag of Bosk, from the marshes."
"Yes, Captain," said Thurnock.
"Admiral!" protested the admiral of the treasure fleet to me.
"Take him away," I told my men.
He was dragged from my presence.
I snapped shut the book. "If these figures are correct," I said to Clitus, "as doubtless they are, we and the Captains of Port Kar are today the masters of much treasure."
He laughed. "Surely enough," said he, "to make us all among the richest of men!"
"More wisely spent," said I, "these goods would go to increase the arsenal fleet of Port Kar."
"But surely," said he, "the arsenal does not require so much?"
I laughed. "The arsenal share," said I, "is eighteen shares of thirty." Eighteen of the ships in my fleet had been arsenal vessels.
I had, by agreement with the council, reserved to myself twelve shares of thirty divisions, as well as all slaves taken.
"Captain," said a voice.
Raiders of Gor Page 23