by N. C. Reed
Selvey turned his glass that way but again the enemy was still too distant to be seen from the deck.
“Two forces?” he mused. “I need a report from Rickett right away concerning size and make-up of the enemy. It's possible that our intelligence about the number and whereabouts of the Soulan Fleet was in error, Mister Merrill.”
“Sir!” Merrill hurried away to the messenger line running to the look-out posts where Rickett was already posted. A steady man with a good eye, Rickett was an excellent choice for the role. Merrill found a message descending as he made his way to the main mast of the Indina. He took the note and read through it, ordering a message to be sent in reply that Rickett should get a glass on the new force.
The enemy to their due west was comprised of at least three cruiser weight ships and six frigates, though Rickett's terse message warned there was at least one more line of sail behind that which he could not yet make out. Merrill felt his stomach ease at the news as he made his way back to the Admiral. Nine ships? Maybe a few more? Even if the new force had the same amount, the Imperial Fleet had a near two-to-one supremacy. They would get hurt, as Selvey had noted, but victory would be all but certain.
*****
“Northern force in view, Admiral,” Nettles reported calmly. “Red smoke from the force, sir. They've seen our smoke and are making turns.”
“Good,” Semmes nodded. Lookouts were still cataloging the enemy, but so far it looked like his men would face three-to-one odds. If the Keyhorn Squadron closed up those odds would drop some, but he couldn't be sure that all of the Norland ships were accounted for yet.
“Orders, sir?” Nettles prompted carefully.
“None needed for the moment, Mister Nettles,” Semmes shrugged. “We will continue to close and seek engagement as quickly as possible. If we can distract them, then the Imperials may not notice the Keyhorn ships until they're in full view. Assuming they arrive in time for it to matter,” he added grimly.
“About the target selection, sir,” Nettles began, but stopped at a raised hand from Semmes.
“We will target the troopships, Mister Nettles. Destroying them, assuming they do carry troops, takes precedent over self-defense. If they prove to be empty, then we'll engage the warships and do as much damage as we can. Those orders will not change,” he added with a stern look at his Secretary. “Our entire objective today is to sink those ships or prove they are not a threat to the Kingdom. Anything else must come after that.”
“Aye, sir,” Nettles nodded. He was reluctant to sacrifice their own ships and men and felt the Admiral should be as well. Semmes made no other reply. In his mind, none was needed.
*****
“Green smoke from the north, Commodore!”
Commodore Anthony David used his glass to spy out the smoke.
“Right where they ought to be,” he nodded to himself. “How about that?”
“Sir?”
David turned to Commander Jonathon Riddell, his flag secretary.
“I said they're right where they should be,” he smiled slightly. “Signal all ships to come north, and have our heading set to. . .zero five zero, I should think,” he said after a brief pause. “That should do nicely.”
“Shall I order red smoke in acknowledgment, sir?” Riddell asked.
“No,” David said firmly. “If the Admiral could see, then so could the Imperials. Let us keep our presence here a mystery as long as possible. It might save the day if we can catch them unprepared. I almost wish the wind would shift slightly to our south, but that might make the Admiral's job harder. Make sure that our rowers are ready, but do not unship them until we must.” He turned back to the horizon.
“Assuming the Imperial commander places his warships between the Admiral and the troopships, we just might be able to slip behind him and engage the troopships early on. If we can do enough damage, then our mission will be achieved regardless of the final outcome.”
“Sir,” Riddell nodded and hurried to give the orders. David took an extra minute to think over his own orders. Should he have signaled the Admiral? How would Semmes react not knowing if the Keyhorn ships were on their way. Would he fight the engagement differently?
David shook his head. It really didn't matter. Their orders were to destroy as many troopships as possible unless they could prove they were empty. Any opportunity to do that, regardless of risk or costs, had to be taken. No, Admiral Semmes would agree with his decision if he were here. It hadn't been something they had discussed, but it was still a good idea.
“Red smoke further north, sir,” Riddell returned, slightly winded but grinning. “Sun squadron is replying to the Admiral.”
“Excellent,” David smiled now himself. With both the northern groups to contend with, the Imperials might actually not see him until it was too late. And that was worth the risk, he judged.
*****
“Enemy to the north has at least four cruisers and six frigates, Admiral,” Merrill reported. “Western force now in view with five cruisers, eight frigates and two sloops. The sloops are hanging back, however. They're only barely in view.”
“Ships of that class aren't much good in an engagement like this,” Selvey nodded slowly. “No sense in having them on the line. Why bring them at all, I wonder?” he mused.
“Might be their command vessel, sir,” Merrill offered.
“No,” Selvey shook his head. “He couldn't see from that far back. And signaling would be too difficult,” he added. “No, there's another reason. Perhaps they have medical personnel on board.” This more to himself than to Merrill. “Not a bad idea if so,” he nodded absently. A sailor ran up with a message for Merrill.
“Northern force now approaching abreast, sir,” Merrill read the message. “Six cruisers, seven frigates. No sloops or other ships in view with this force,” he added.
“Eleven cruiser weight ships and fifteen frigates,” Selvey said aloud. “That would account for most of their eastern navy.” The assembled Imperial Fleet had a total of eighteen cruisers and twenty-four frigates protecting eleven troopships and three cargo ships. Just about right for an invading army. Of course, those ships had only a handful of Marines aboard other than their crews.
“Numbers are more even than I expected,” Merrill admitted. He had counted on outnumbering the Soulan fleet elements heavily in this engagement. That wasn't looking to be the case, now.
“Always a safe bet to assume that your enemy outnumbers you, Captain,” Selvey replied. “You avoid surprises that way. Signal the fleet, Mister Merrill. Line abreast, primary targets are the cruisers. Soulan cruisers are built to ram so we need to keep them off balance as much as possible. I don't need to remind you that the wind favors them in this first pass?”
“No sir!” Merrill replied. He was already moving to where sailors awaited with flags to hoist for signals to the other ships. The Imperial Fleet was divided into three squadrons, but all ships would take their orders from the Indina rather than from their squadron commanders. It was something Merrill had argued against, but Selvey would not be moved in that. He did not trust his squadron commanders to act in the best interest of the navy overall rather than themselves, so he would issue all orders to all ships.
Of course, if something happened to Selvey, or the Indina, then there would be a time of confusion among the Imperial Fleet until command structures were back in the squadron commanders' hands.
A lot could go wrong in those moments.
*****
“We should slow slightly,” Semmes almost murmured. “Allow the Sunshine Coast contingent to catch up. But sacrificing that speed would cost us.”
“Sir?” Nettles asked.
“Talking to myself, Mister Nettles,” Semmes shook his head. “Ideally, we should slow our advance to allow Commodore Rhode's ships to catch us. But doing so would make us slower when we hit engagement range and I don't want that. I'd rather have gone in together.”
“Is the loss of speed worth the gain from waiting,
sir?” Nettles asked.
“Excellent question,” Semmes nodded. “The truth is I don't know. We have no real idea what the Imperial ships are capable of, to be honest. Oh, we know roughly what they can do,” he added as Nettles started to object, “but what is the accuracy of their weaponry? How drilled are their men? How well trained are they? See what I mean? All those are unknowns to us for the moment.” He paused, considering.
“Signal the squadron to drop the three-quarter sail,” he ordered finally. “That should allow us to maintain enough momentum while allowing Commodore Rhode the time to come up in support.” He raised his glass to the south, searching for the Keyhorn ships of Commodore David's command.
“Perhaps they'll see us soon, sir,” Nettles offered as he departed to relay the signal orders.
“Perhaps,” Semmes said aloud to no one. He swept the southern horizon once more before turning his attention back to the Imperial Fleet.
They would soon be in theoretical range of ballista and catapult. Things would certainly liven up then. Perhaps he should slow to half-sail, allowing his gunners more time to engage before resuming ramming speed.
*****
“Total Soulan count remains at eleven cruisers and fifteen frigates, sir,” Merrill reported.
“I can see that Mister Merrill,” Selvey replied calmly. “I expected more ships,” he added after a moment. If he noticed Merrill's red face he ignored it.
“Perhaps their king rushed them to attack with whatever they had,” Merrill offered, almost hesitantly after the last retort from his Admiral.
“That is a possibility,” Selvey nodded. “No doubt we're putting pressure on them with our presence here. But why would he order them to attack us with numbers so small that our victory is all but assured?”
“Sir, is it possible that this is all there is?” Merrill asked cautiously. “We were at peace for a long time, and we were talking peace right up until the war began. Maybe they had drawn down their forces and this is all they have.”
“Again, that is possible,” Selvey mused. “But judging from the readiness of their army, we dare not make such an assumption I fear. I think your first suggestion would be closer to the mark, Captain. We have put such pressure on the southerners that their King has ordered them to do the impossible.”
Selvey continued to watch the approaching enemy, unable to completely overcome the unease he was feeling. He told himself it was only natural to feel that unease. He was about to lead his ships into battle against a worthy opponent. If he failed, he might well perish. If he failed and lived, he would be a prisoner at best. Should he live and escape, he would then be at the mercy of his Emperor, as would his family.
Yes, there was plenty of reason for his unease. And not all of it was due to the number of ships his opponent was mustering.
*****
“Sir, top lookout is seeing sails to our northwest,” Commander Riddell reported. David nodded sagely, still considering his options.
“Any idea of the count?” he asked, not expecting one.
“Not as yet, but the enemy is facing west it appears, and there are two lines of vessels,” Riddell replied. “It's possible their troopships are the second line, sir,” he added.
“So it is,” David nodded. “That would be a great good fortune, would it not?” he almost grinned. “If we could take the troopships unaware, before their warships can intervene?”
“It would indeed, sir,” Riddell nodded. “But. . .our frigates aren't really rigged for ramming, sir,” he continued hesitantly.
“I'm quite aware of that Mister Riddell,” David replied.
“Their throw weight isn't great enough to sink a very large troopship, either, sir,” Riddell continued despite his reluctance to do so.
“Make your point, Mister Riddell,” David's voice was slightly brittle now.
“Sir, if our frigates attempt to ram such large vessels, they're almost sure to sink along with them,” Riddell took the plunge.
“That they are,” David nodded. “And we will do our duty if it costs us every ship in this squadron, Mister Riddell. The navy exists for the sole purpose of protecting the shores of Soulan.” He turned to look at the younger man. “You may have been taught that at Savannah. No?” Riddell's face reddened at the slight barb, but he nodded.
“Then there should be no doubt that our frigates will do what's required of them, should there?” David turned his gaze back to the northwest. “We will do what we came here to do, Mister Riddell. Make no mistake about that.”
“Sir,” Riddell nodded his acquiescence, thoroughly cowed by his Commodore's quiet scathing.
“Carry on, Mister Riddell,” David ordered. He looked at the sails above him, noting they were billowing more than before. The Ocoee, sister ship to the Wabash, was cutting through the water at a fine clip now.
“Signal line abreast, Mister Riddell,” he ordered suddenly. “The wind appears to be in our favor for the moment. Let's take full advantage of that.”
“Will do, sir.”
*****
“Wind appears to be shifting,” Merrill noted the same thing aboard the Indina. “This may favor them more, Admiral,” there was no need to add.
“So it may,” Selvey nodded. “Nothing we can do about the wind, Mister Merrill except pray that it changes to favor us in time of greater need.”
“Sir,” Merrill acknowledged.
“We'll open fire at maximum range,” Selvey ordered. “Ships may maneuver at will to unmask batteries, but line positions are to remain constant. Present broadsides as though needful but do not break formation.” He turned to look at Merrill.
“At times such as these, it is discipline that will win the day, Mister Merrill. We must maintain.”
“Yes sir,” Merrill nodded. “I'll have the signals sent.”
“Carry on.”
*****
“Imperial ships are maneuvering, sir,” Nettles reported. As with so many of his 'reports', it wasn't really needed or necessary, yet it was his function to make sure that his Admiral knew everything there was to know.
“So they are, Mister Nettles,” Semmes nodded absently, observing the Imperial ships himself. “They intend to open fire at long range,” he added after a few seconds. “Signal all ships, make full sail,” he ordered. “By the time they decide they have us, we'll be gaining speed again. That will throw them off a bit at least for the first round or two.”
“Full sail, aye sir,” Nettles replied and nodded to a runner standing close by. The man nodded and took off toward the signal officers who were already hauling down the current signal flags.
“Order chase weapons to ready as well,” Semmes added after no more than a few seconds. “Ship captains are to allow chase weaponry to fire as soon as they believe they can achieve accuracy. They know their men better than we do.”
“Yes Admiral,” Nettles nodded. This message he carried himself, because of its importance. His other runner for the moment was a teenager who was so scared his face was white.
Nettles hurried to the signals officer, a commander who had been at sea longer than the young runner had been in the world, and quickly explained the order. The man nodded, making a quick note in his log even as he snapped out orders. His signalmen hurried to attach these new orders to the second of three lines used to replay signals. By the time Nettles had returned to his Admiral's side the signal flags were on their way up the line.
“Signals made, sir.”
“Excellent,” Semmes nodded. “We'll soon be in the fire, Mister Nettles,” he added. “I assume you've made ready?” he asked suddenly.
“I have, sir,” Nettles said gravely. “Today is as good as any other.”
“And perhaps better than some,” Semmes nodded again, in approval this time. “Soon it will be in the hands of the men, Mister Nettles. Our job is to give them a chance. To put them in position to win. Once we've done that, it's all up to them from that point on.”
“We have good men
, sir,” Nettles agreed.
“That we do.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
-
There was little elegance to it, in the end. The Royal Navy of Soulan made full sail directly into the Imperial Fleet's line and the Imperial Fleet stood by to receive them. One side fighting for their home, the other for an ideal, or in some cases for their continued well-being.
Men of both sides prayed that their officers, their ships or their luck would see them through the coming battle. Their officers prayed they would give a good account of themselves, save their ship and be victorious. A rare few looked at the battle with a gleaming eye, hopeful for glory, reward and fame.
The ships themselves creaked and groaned under the strain of moving through water that was much heavier than themselves, bows splitting the ocean to allow the ships to pass as they prepared for battle. They were proud vessels, made by proud men and sailed by those who took great pride in the ship they served. Ships made for the art of war at sea, designed to outlast the enemy before they succumbed to damage themselves. A few of the ships, and a select few men on both sides had seen naval combat, but never before had the combined navies of each power faced each other in such a duel. The commanders on both sides were in uncharted waters here and had nothing but training, theory and discipline to fall back upon.
Each hoped it would be sufficient.
*****
“They intend to ram, Admiral!” Merrill almost shouted as the fact dawned on him.
“I believe you were taught that Soulan cruisers were built to ram other vessels, Mister Merrill,” Selvey replied calmly. “This tactic should not be unexpected.”
“Our ships won't be able to stand those blows, sir,” Merrill stressed.
“In all likelihood they will not,” Selvey admitted as the first catapults fired from his most forward ships. “That is why we have artillery, Mister Merrill. We must trust to our men that they will damage the enemy, at least some of them, sufficiently to prevent them from completing their runs. And they only get one,” he added, raising his glass again. “Once they've shot their bolt, it will be sword and arbalest and pike. Ballistas and boarding actions. You've trained for this Mister Merrill.” Selvey lowered his glass suddenly and looked at the younger man.