I saw Trahern’s galley far to the rear. It might’ve been one of the first to flee, but was as unhandy as I’d thought, barely making steerage way. Just as my eyes found it, it changed, and became a swelling, building boil of fire and smoke, white streamers soaring high into the heavens as it exploded! Seconds later the shockwave of the blast rolled across the waters and over our galleys.
Before that flameball vanished an apparition spread across the sky above it.
It was the Archon, seen for just an instant, his filed teeth bared as he howled in glee over his victory. Then the sky was empty, and there was nothing but the ashen taste of defeat and death.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
THE PUPPETEER IN THE ROUND TOWER
Near dusk the Konyans slowed their flight. This wasn’t the first battle panic I’d seen, nor would it most likely be the last. Terror-stricken soldiers only run so far and so long. They stop when they can’t see the enemy any longer, when they collapse from exhaustion, when they see others slow down, or when they’re faced with the unknown — something that’s even more frightening than whatever sent them scurrying away from the sound of drums.
Thus it was with the Konyan ships. We were too far away from their homelands with open seas between us and final safety. Also, some of them might’ve seen The Sarzana’s forces turn back and realized after awhile they were now unpursued. So the ships gathered in little knots around their division leaders or other command ships that’d survived.
This was a grave mistake by The Sarzana. He should’ve chased us until darkness at least, so that all would “know” the demons were still hot on our trail.
I thought there were two possible reasons. The Sarzana wanted a signal victory, and didn’t want to commit his ships to a long series of actions that’d finish us in detail. This is a common mistake with Great Leaders — all of their actions must be marked with boldness and energy and last no longer than the attention span of those they rule. The grind of small details aren’t for them. This is why, when war is waged between a Brilliant General and Scruffy Bandits, it’s not entirely foolish to bet on the bandits.
Also, I sensed the killing stroke yet to come would be a storm brewed up by The Archon. This would scatter our ships like sand, so only a few would return to Konya with news of the disaster. I felt magics a-building even as we sailed away from the Gut of Ticino after the fleeing Konyans, making signal after ignored signal. By the time the ships had lowered sails — I swear as sheepishly as men realizing they’re behaving as foolishly as barnyard fowl — the beginnings of the storm were already showing themselves.
A chill wind blew up from Ticino. There was a chop to the waves and I noted that the glass was falling.
I knew we’d have to deal with that within the next few hours, but there were more important problems at hand.
We closed on Bhazana’s galley, which would for the moment be the fleet’s flagship, and sent signals requiring him to immediately summon all other ship captains, not just division or element leaders, for a conference. I thought there’d be more than enough room on the flagship — I estimated that less than half of the Konyan ships had survived.
I waited, not quite sure what I’d do if my orders were ignored, but saw with relief both flags fluttering and bullseye lanterns flashing as the gloom gathered. His signals were received and echoed by other ships as they drew together near the flagship, and I saw small boats being swung out.
I made a signal to Nor’s nearby galley that he was not to attend this conference, and I would require his presence aboard our galley when I summoned him. I wanted to give the Broken Man some time to consider his broken oath. I said I wished Corais, Xia and Gamelan to accompany me. I told Xia she was to wear her battle garb. She seemed surprised, but I said the reason would become apparent soon.
I left Polillo in charge of the Guard, not only because I wanted someone of her imposing presence to ensure my back was covered, but also because what I intended suited her little. Some of the darker duties of soldiering ill became my legate, and I thought the better of her for it, and secretly despised the part of me that held me firm to distasteful tasks like the one I was almost sure would be required.
I had one longboat launched and sent directly to Admiral Bhazana’s flagship. It carried Flag Sergeant Ismet, ten heavily-armed Guardswomen, our ship’s carpenter, two sailors and the gear I’d determined necessary. I had another boat launched and the four of us boarded it. I ordered it rowed to Cholla Yi’s ship, and explained to him what I intended at the conference and what must be done if we had any hope of survival, let alone recovery from this terrible situation.
I’d had time enough to devise a plan as our galley sped after the others. Surprisingly, Cholla Yi listened closely, and grudgingly agreed that most likely I was correct in my thinking and strategy. The only hesitation, I thought, was that the plan wasn’t his, nor would he lead it. That gave me one ally, at least for the moment. I was under no illusions as to the pirate’s long-term reliability.
As we rowed up to Admiral Bhazana’s ship, my anger ebbed when I saw his ship. He hadn’t fled at the first hostile shout from The Sarzana. His galley had taken serious damage from The Sarzana’s war-engines. The upper deckhouse’s roof had been torn away, as had one entire railing and part of the hull itself on the starboard side.
The main deckhouse was smoke-seared and blackened from fires set by The Sarzana’s catapulted arrows and half his oars had been snapped. Two mainstays had snapped, and the ship’s mast sagged drunkenly. Men swarmed over the decks making hasty repairs. They tried to avoid looking at the long line of covered bodies on the afterdeck waiting burial.
We boarded, and were saluted by the galley’s master. I stared at him coldly. “I only accept honors,” I said, deliberately in a loud voice intended to carry to every seaman within earshot, “from soldiers, not from men who’ve turned their backs on honor.”
He turned red, but didn’t meet my eye. That was the first sign I might carry the day — if he’d exploded in anger or reached for a weapon I would’ve known the Konyans were truly without courage.
I ordered Yi and the others to wait on deck, and our ship’s carpenter and his assistants to set to. I told the ship’s master to take me to Admiral Bhazana. He was below, in a cabin nearly as magnificent as Admiral Trahern. He had his back to me, and was staring out through the round portholes at the afterdeck and the line of corpses.
Without turning, he said, “I’m a fool.”
“You are,” I agreed. “And worse. You broke.”
Now he turned. “First I let myself be drawn in by that childish artifice, then, when the Konyans attacked, I couldn’t rally my ships.” I just stared at him. “But I swear to you I didn’t break,” he said. “I swear I saw signals from Trahern’s ship ordering me to retreat.”
I remained silent, and his shoulders fell. “I cannot expect you to believe me,” he went on. “I can only ask your permission to pay for my error.”
“How do you propose that?”
“By going to my gods.” His fingers touched the shortsword at his waist. “I wanted to do that earlier, but was stopped. Captain Oirot said . . . it doesn’t matter what he said.”
“You fled once,” I said, letting scorn run down my words like blood down a sword, “now you wish to do it again? Your self-indulgence is denied.” Bhazana flushed. “You can kill yourself, give yourself medals or run a mast up your ass when this is over for all I care, but for the moment you will place yourself under my orders, and do exactly as you’re told. Is that clear?”
Once a soldier’s honor is broken, he’s like putty drowned in linseed oil. The trick is to avoid further shaming him, unless you wish to make the ruin complete. This I didn’t want.
I said, “Now. Here is what will happen,” I went on, closing the subject and giving him very thorough instructions.
An hour later, the ship captains were assembled. There were a hundred and seventy four of them, so they packed not only the foredeck, but th
e passageways beside the deckhouse as well. Among them was Admiral Bornu, who I noted showed no more battle damage than I’d seen on his ship when it fled toward the open sea. Unlike Bhazana, Bornu was trying to bluster his way out. I paid no attention, but bade him wait on the foredeck with the others. There wasn’t much conversation from them, both because of the day’s shame and because their attention was fixed by the device I’d had my carpenter set up on the topdeck.
I stood just at the top of the companionway that led to the main cabin’s topdeck. Just behind and beside me were Cholla Yi, Corais, Xia, Gamelan and Admiral Bhazana. Behind them were my Guardswomen.
We’d come out of the cabin’s ruins silently, making no announcement, and stood, waiting. Slowly we were noticed, and the buzz of low conversation died. I let the silence build and build until it was intolerable. There was nothing but the whine of the wind as it increased in speed, and the wash of the waves against the galley’s sides.
“The Sarzana defeated us today,” I said. “And we ran from him like fish flee the shark pack. Are we to return to Konya with that on our souls? Are we going home to tell our loved ones what cowards we were, and for them to prepare to face all of The Sarzana’s terror?”
“What else?” It was a voice from the rear. There was a clatter of agreement. Once more I let the words die away into the wind.
“What else? We’re going back to Ticino!” I said. “The battle’s only begun.”
“When?” This was an officer in the front row I didn’t recognize. “How long will it take to get reinforcements up from Konya? A month? Two months?”
“We’re going back tomorrow. Tomorrow at night,” I said.
“That’s impossible!” That came from Admiral Bornu.
“Nothing is impossible,” I said.
“To blazes with you,” he said, and bounded halfway up the companionway and turned to face the other captains. “We were beaten badly this day, beaten by wizardry and the force of arms! There’s no way for us to recover, not now, not as outnumbered as we are! This whole damned campaign was doomed! It never should’ve been fought! We should’ve waited for The Sarzana to get closer to Konyan and then defeated him on our own grounds, in our own waters!”
I heard agreement building.
“Or maybe,” I said, “you think we should have just surrendered without fighting at all?”
Now there was dead silence.
“Maybe we could’ve struck some kind of arrangement,” Bornu said, nearly mumbling. “Maybe if we’d gone to The Sarzana and offered — ”
“Offered what,” I said. “Your daughters? Your wives? Your gold? You couldn’t have offered your honor, since by your words you possess none!”
Bornu’s hand was on his sword. I heard a rustle from behind me, and knew Locris or another bow woman was reaching for her quiver.
I moved one step closer down the companionway. “Now, Admiral,” I said . . . “Now you reach for your blade, after letting it rust in its scabbard all day?”
“This is quite mad,” he said, but moved his hand off the weapon’s grip.
“Is it? Listen, you men. Listen to that wind. Isn’t it stronger than it was an hour, two hours ago? Do you really think The Sarzana and his familiar The Archon are done with us? Now that they’ve got us on the open seas, weak of will, bleak of mind and heart, don’t you think they’ll cast a tempest against us? Do any of you believe they intend for us to return home so we can stand against them once more? If any of you do, that I term madness!
“Not that it matters what you believe. You are soldiers and sailors. You swore an oath to defend Konya with your lives. The only ones among you who’ve kept their oath, who still have their honor, lie back on the stern, sewn into canvas sails with a coin in their mouth and a bit of pig iron at their feet to carry them down into the depths.
“The rest of you? What do you think of yourselves? How many of you fled the battle with never a shaft being fired, with never a spear being cast? Now, I call on you to obey me. We will attack The Sarzana once more. And this time we’ll destroy him!”
“Obey you?” Bornu sneered. “An outlander? A woman?”
I turned to Xia. She stepped forward.
“I am Princess Xia Kanara,” she said. “My father sits on The Council of Purity. I claim to speak for him. Are there any of you who will dispute that claim?”
“You’re a child,” Bornu said. “I swore no oath to obey you.”
“But obey me you shall. And I command you to follow the orders to be given by Captain Rali Antero, who was hand-picked by the Council as one who best knows how to destroy The Sarzana. It is to all our shame this expedition wasn’t put in her charge from the beginning.”
I was impressed — I’d told Xia some of what I hoped she’d say if the occasion came up, but not this last.
Bornu began to say something, but before he could Admiral Bhazana was beside Xia.
“Admiral,” he said. “Both women are right. This is a day of infamy, and we must make recompense. I know I am not your superior in the naval lists, but you must obey Princess Xia and Captain Antero.”
“I am Admiral Nepean Bornu, a landed baron,” the other man replied, “and my family has served Konya for generations. I have a duty as well, and my duty is to take my ships safely home, where they may help protect Konya in the final battle to come. For me to follow the orders of you, my junior; this foreign sorceress who may well be in league with The Sarzana himself and who brought this evil on our lands; and this stripling who’s besotted with the outlander . . . no. I refuse.”
“I order you once again, Admiral,” Xia said, her voice hard beyond her years.
“And I have my duty, a greater duty.”
“Princess,” I said. “I myself vowed to serve your Council to bring down The Sarzana. I must tell you this man’s words constitute treason.”
There were low outcries from the officers, and I saw heads turn toward the device I’d had erected earlier.
“Not merely treason, but High Treason,” I continued, “since he also spoke against the commands of the Council of Purity.”
“Treason you call it, and treason it is,” Xia said.
Bornu looked around wildly. Before he could move, or anyone come to his aid, I said, “Sergeant Ismet!”
My women went down the companionway as if they were attacking lionesses, swords whipping out, spears at the rise and arrows nocking. Ismet and Dacis had Bornu by the arms before his own sword could come out. The officers on deck were shouting now, and I saw the glitter of weapons.
“Sergeant! Hang him!”
Bornu shrieked, and struggled, but could do nothing. In a moment he was dragged to the top of the companionway and to my device. It was a gibbet, a simple gallows I’d had constructed aboard our own galley, moved to Bhazana’s flagship and remounted. The rope went around his neck, hanging slackly down to his knees then up to the crossbar, its long knot set just behind his left ear.
I turned to Princess Xia. Her lips set in a firm, thin line.
“Execute the traitor,” she said.
Sergeant Ismet swung the gibbet on its axis, and Bornu was sent stumbling out and down, off the deck and falling. The rope came tight and over the wind’s snarl I could hear the sound of his neck snapping. The body flipflopped, then hung limply from the rope’s end. Now there was complete stillness.
“I condemned Admiral Bornu as a traitor,” I said. “I further condemn all who disobey or disagree with the orders I have issued and am going to issue as traitors, and will face the same penalty.
“You will obey me,” and I let the steel show, “or by the heavens I will decimate every ship’s crew and then we’ll go back into battle with bodies dangling from every yard if it is needed!”
I didn’t give them time to recover.
“Now, I want all division and element captains in Admiral Bhazana’s cabin immediately, and I’ll give you orders to pass along to the others.”
I said no more, but strode back into the shadow
s, and I heard the others behind me. I may’ve sounded like iron, but inside, I felt my stomach turn. I’d dealt with fear and panic before, but never from so many. And while I’d ordered the law many times, up to and including the final penalty, even on one occasion sending a murderous Guardswoman who’d terribly shamed us to the city for sacrifice in the Kissing of the Stones as expiation, I’d never ordered anyone sent to their death out of hand, with no court, no recourse, no appeal.
But I saw then, and see now, nothing else that could’ve been done. When battle is on the cusp, there cannot be any debate nor hesitation, and any weakness must be cut out as swiftly as a poisoned dart, or everything will die.
I note my Scribe is intent on his writing, and doesn’t raise his head to meet my eyes. This is yet another part of war that isn’t talked about by anyone, especially by those who wish to forget killing is the heart of the matter, not battlesongs, banners, parades or armor gleaming in a summer sun. Remember what I said, Scribe, and tell this to your sons and daughters before you allow them to run laughing into the recruiter’s embrace.
I was just as stern to the division officers when I gave my orders, although I did give then an explanation, mentioning, and this was the truth, that I’d checked with the shipmaster Oirot, and he’d confirmed that storms in these waters at this time of year were unheard of.
With Bornu’s body now unseen, the officers had time to consider. Reluctantly, they agreed with me, that it was most unlikely The Sarzana wouldn’t attempt to finish us with magic, and that we were as unlikely to escape as if his fleet were still hounding us.
“Of course,” one said, “we could always split up and make for home ship by ship, which would really give that bastard a chance to pick us off one by one.”
While a bit of understanding hung in the air, I presented my plan. Tomorrow I would send representatives to each ship, and give the battle plan. Late in the afternoon, we would set sail back to Ticino and sail past the portal cities after full dark, which would mean we’d close on the fleet anchored in the roadstead near Ticino around midnight.
The Warrior's Tale (The Far Kingdoms, Book 2) Page 48