Fortune's stroke b-4

by Eric Flint

  A moment later, the sound of the first rocket volley came hissing by overhead. As soon as the missiles went past the bow-shield, Ousanas and Antonina craned their heads to watch their flight.

  "Way too long," muttered Ousanas. "But they've all been fitted with venturi. Let's hope the shields stand up."

  He brought his eyes down to the short Roman woman standing next to him.

  "I will not have you dead, when Belisarius comes aboard this ship," Ousanas said. "Not that, whatever else."

  "We might all-"

  Ousanas clapped his hands. An instant later, as helpless as a doll, Antonina was lowered onto the deck. Matthew and Leo each held an arm and a leg. Their grip on her was as delicate as possible, under the circumstances, but Antonina was not mollified. The entire process was accompanied by her own monologue.

  "You're dismissed! Discharged, d'you hear?" was the only one of her spluttering phrases which was not so vituperative, so vindictive, so intemperate and so utterly foul-mouthed that Ousanas howled with laughter, clasping his hands over his belly.

  Once her butt had been firmly planted on the deck, Antonina broke off her tirade and glared up at Ousanas. "You think this is funny?" she demanded.

  Still laughing, Ousanas nodded. An instant later-even in her outrage, Antonina was stunned by the speed with which Ousanas could move, without, seemingly, any warning or effort-the aqabe tsentsen was sitting right next to her. He beamed down upon her from a height which was now only measured in inches instead of feet.

  "Hysterically so," he pronounced. His next words were drowned under the sound of another rocket volley screaming overhead. Again, he and Antonina craned their necks, watching the rockets' trajectory.

  "Can't see where they hit!" complained Antonina. Scowling: "Can't see anything, in this ridiculous position."

  Ousanas' grin returned. "Which," he said with satisfaction, "is the whole point. You don't need to see where they hit. And if you can't see the rockets when they hit, we can hope they will return the favor."

  Antonina's scowl, if anything, deepened. "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard! Those rockets'll go wherever they want to go. You watch!" Deep, deep scowl. "Except we won't be able to watch because we can't see a damned thing so the rockets'll catch us by surprise and-"

  The next volley of rockets caught them by surprise. The Malwa, apparently, had adjusted the angle of the rocket troughs perched in the bows of the oncoming galleys. The first signal of incoming fire which Antonina and Ousanas received was the sudden boom of rockets smashing into the bow-shield and caroming off to either side. They only caught glimpses of the missiles streaking past. Perhaps two seconds later, they heard the erupting warheads. Both of them knew, from the sound alone, that the rockets had exploded harmlessly in midair.

  Antonina's displeasure vanished instantly. "Beautiful!" she cried. "Beautiful!"

  She squirmed onto her knees, raising her head high enough to be able to see over the side of the ship. Ousanas made no objection. He even gave Matthew and Leo, squatting nearby, a reassuring little wave of the hand. The essence of the gesture was clear. As long as the fool woman doesn't stick her head and her brass tits out where any Malwa can take a shot at her.

  Antonina's lips were pursed, now, with a faint worry. "One problem, though. I hadn't thought about it." She pointed forward. "We sure enough protect against bow shots. But the ricochets might hit one of the ships alongside. There isn't any shielding covering most of the ships."

  Ousanas shrugged. "Won't matter, Antonina. Luck-good or bad-will happen as it will."

  The bow shield bellied again under the impact of a new rocket volley. Again, the boom, almost like a drum; and, again, two missiles caromed by. And, again, exploded harmlessly over the waves.

  Antonina, scanning right and left as she stared toward the stern of the flagship, was relieved by what she saw. The Ethiopian ship captains had already recognized the same danger and were responding. Charax's delta was several miles wide, giving plenty of sea room. The Axumite ships, advancing in a single line, were already spreading out.

  Antonina watched several more rockets bounce off the shields on other ships and skitter past the entire formation. The angle of the shields, she realized, was so acute that only the worst possible luck could cause a rocket to carom sideways.

  "The main thing," Ousanas continued-unlike Antonina, he had not bothered to watch the trajectories-"is that almost all the incoming rockets will be harmless. Once we get in ramming range, they'll stop firing."

  He chuckled grimly. "Not even a fanatic Mahaveda priest will want to be in the bow of a ship plunging in for a ram."

  Antonina turned back and hunkered lower. She studied the figure of Gersem in the bow. The new Dakuen commander, still peering intently through a slit in the shield, suddenly seemed very young.

  Ousanas, apparently, could read minds. "Relax. I picked him, even though he's the most junior of the sub-officers, because he's also the best seaman."

  "Says who?" demanded Antonina. "You know as much about boats as I do about-"

  "Says all the other sub-officers," came the serene reply. Ousanas stretched out his arms, pointing to the Axumite ships ranging alongside them to both port and starboard.

  "That's true on all of them. Existing commanders, of course, weren't replaced. But until the boarding starts, command of each of those ships is in the hands of the most capable captain. Rank be damned."

  Mention of "boarding" focused Antonina's mind elsewhere. She turned and smiled sweetly at Matthew.

  "I forgive you. Now, please bring me my gun."

  It was Ousanas' turn to scowl. "What do you need that thing for?" he demanded. "You aren't going to be storming across any decks."

  Antonina shook her head. "Certainly not!" Again, she smiled sweetly. "Whole idea's absurd. Unladylike."

  Matthew returned with his mission accomplished. Antonina cradled the monstrous weapon, like a beloved child.

  "But you never know," she said serenely. "Shit happens, in a battle."

  Ousanas, plain to see, was not a happy man. But he made no further protest. What counter-argument could he advance? Antonina had just pronounced the oldest of all veteran wisdoms. "Shit happens," Matthew and Leo echoed, like a Greek chorus.

  Antonina saw Gersem grow tense. Tense. Tense.

  She held her breath. She couldn't see a blessed thing forward, but she knew the line of twelve Axumite ships had almost met the fifteen Malwa vessels charging toward them. By now, the enemy would be up to full ramming speed.

  Held her breath. Held her breath.

  "Relax," said Ousanas. He seemed as stolidly serene as a lump of granite. "O ye of little faith. Malwa galleys? In an open fight at sea-against Axumites?"

  He raised his head, like a wolf baying at the moon. "Ha!"

  That cry of derision blended into Gersem's sudden shouting command.

  Within a minute, both the derision and the stolid serenity proved justified. And Antonina, once again, made a solemn vow not to meddle in the affairs of professionals.

  Gersem timed the order perfectly. The Malwa galley driving straight upon them-bow against bow-was within yards of a collision. The Ethiopian warship, with experienced rowers and steersman, suddenly skittered aside. Then, at Gersem's new command, drove it forward in a quick lunge. And then-new command, bellowed-the rowers on the ship's starboard side lifted their oars straight up in a quick and coordinated motion. The maneuver was a perfectly executed diekplous, as the tactic was called by the Rhodians who were the Mediterranean's finest naval forces.

  Disaster struck their Malwa opponent. The captain of that ship, as was true of all Malwa captains, was inexperienced in sea battle. Inexperienced, at least, against a real navy. As powerful as the Malwa Empire was, it rarely faced a challenge at sea from other kingdoms. The principal duty of the Malwa Empire's navy was to protect its merchant ships against pirates.

  Arrogance and brute force are a splendid way to deal with pirates. They are poor methods, however, aga
inst one of the finest navies in the world.

  The Malwa ship came driving in at full ramming speed. The Malwa captain, seeing that his opponent's vessel had no ram, was almost chortling with glee. He would split the enemy's prow in half, back away, and then finish them off with rockets. Once crippled, the enemy craft would no longer be able to hide behind that bizarre and infernally effective shield.

  At the last possible moment, the Malwa captain ordered his rowers to slow the ship. No captain in his right mind will ram at full speed. The force of the collision might rupture his own bow. At the very least, his ram would be driven too deeply for extraction. Proper ramming tactics require: a full-speed lunge to get within ramming range as soon as possible; a sudden slowing of the ship with backthrust oars; then, in the last few feet, a simple collision. Ram splits hull, but is not wedged; back off, repeat if necessary.

  Good tactics, classic tactics. But the Malwa captain never considered the possibility that his opponent would know those tactics just as well, have long since determined the proper counter, and have a captain, and rowers, and a steersman who were far superior to himself and his crew.

  At Gersem's command, the Ethiopian ship sidled away from the ram. By the time the Malwa captain realized he was going to miss his strike, Gersem had ordered his ship into a forward lunge. The Malwa captain began screaming new commands to his confused rowers and steersman-

  It was too late. The diekplous was done. The Malwa galley drifted inexorably forward. The Ethiopian ship, oars raised out of harm's way, drove down the side of the Malwa craft not more than two feet distant-starboard against starboard, practically scraping the hulls-smashing and shattering every Malwa oar it encountered. Which, given the Malwa crew's confusion and inexperience, was almost all of them.

  The Malwa galley, as a vessel, was instantly crippled. Even worse was the damage to the crew. The oarbutts, flailing and splintering and hammering, killed only one man outright. But almost half of the Malwa galley's starboard rowers suffered broken bones, cracked skulls, and crushed ribs-and all of them were bruised and stunned. All order and discipline in the vessel collapsed, as the shouting commands of the officers were buried under screams and groans.

  The port-side rowers gaped at the scene. And then, gaped wider at the sight of two five-inch cannon barrels approaching. Seconds later, many of those gaping mouths were swept out of existence entirely. Axumite marines were pouring over the side before the smoke cleared. Again, the murderous cry erupted: Ta'akha Maryam! Ta'akha Maryam!

  The combat which followed lasted not more than five minutes. Six Malwa sailors escaped by diving over the side. One of them, a good swimmer in superb physical condition, would make it to the bank of the delta several miles away. The rest would drown, sharing the grim fate of their fellow crewmen.

  In Charax's delta, Malwa would get no more mercy from Ethiopia than it had gotten from Rome in the city itself.

  Antonina, huddling safely in the hull of her flagship, clasped the handcannon more tightly still. It was not fear which produced those whitened knuckles. Simply horror, at the sounds of unseen butchery not more than fifteen feet away. Cries of fury; cries of pain. Spears splitting flesh; sundering bone. Soft groans, and hissing agony, and death gurgling into silence.

  All was silent, now, except the waves against the ships, and grunting exertion. Silent-except for the sodden noise of spears plunging, again and again, into corpses. Slaughter made certain, and certain, and certain. Once only, a low voice, filled with satisfaction: Ta'akha Maryam.

  "I told you," said Ousanas serenely. The aqabe tsentsen, as had been true throughout the battle, had never so much as moved a hand. "O ye of little faith."

  In the battle as a whole, Axum suffered the total loss of only one ship. It was a grievous loss, because the entire crew went with their vessel when the Malwa galley they were boarding suddenly erupted. What happened? No one would ever know. An accident, perhaps. Perhaps a fanatic priest.

  Five other Axumite warships suffered major casualties. Numbers will tell, even against experience. Not every Axumite captain maneuvered as skillfully as Gersem. And, with twelve Axumite ships facing fifteen opponents, three Malwa galleys were left free to strike where they would.

  Malwa's sea captains might have been arrogant and incautious, but they were by no means cowards. All three of those unharmed vessels rammed Axumite ships. Tried to, at least. One of the Malwa galleys was so badly bloodied by well-aimed cannon fire that it drew off-drifted off, rather; its captain and steersman slain, along with a third of the crew. The other two rammed, and then boarded.

  But the final result, even there, was the same. The Malwa advantage in numbers was not enough-not even if they had been doubled-to offset the experience and ferocity of Axum's spearmen. The only difference was between a fight lost-badly lost-and an outright slaughter.

  At Ousanas' command, the Axumite line reformed and advanced again toward Charax. The city's harbor was less than three miles away, now. Sharp-eyed Ethiopian lookouts reported that the Roman troop vessels were beginning to leave the docks.

  There were only eight ships left in the Axumite fleet. In addition to the one destroyed outright, Ousanas had decided to abandon the two which had been rammed and one other which had been badly mauled. None of the three ships were in any danger of sinking, but they had been damaged enough to make them useless in combat. The sarwen on the three crippled vessels transferred quickly to other Ethiopian warships, filling out those crews which had suffered heavy casualties.

  Eight ships, now, not twelve-but there were only five Malwa galleys left.

  "Look at 'em," snorted Antonina, studying the enemy ships. "And they say women can't make up their minds!"

  Ousanas grinned. "What you observe, Antonina, is a modern version of being caught in a myth. Between Scylla and Charybdis."

  The commander of the Malwa inner squadron seemed to be torn by indecision. Or perhaps, as Ousanas said, he was simply caught between two monsters. At first, the five galleys headed toward the oncoming Ethiopians. Then, seeing the Roman ships casting loose from the docks, they headed back. The principal assignment of those galleys, after all, was to keep Belisarius and his men from escaping.

  Then, seeing the first of the gigantic explosions which began to destroy what was left of Charax, the little Malwa fleet simply drifted aimlessly.

  What to do? What to do? The harbor area was as yet untouched by either flame or gunpowder fury. The Malwa flotilla's commander knew that Belisarius would not set off the final round of explosions until he saw his way clear. With the rest of Charax a raging inferno-there had been naphtha mixed with the demolition charges-there was no possibility the oncoming Malwa army could reach the docks before the Roman ships were well into the delta. Where-

  The Ethiopian warships were within a mile of the inner squadron. They would reach the Malwa galleys in less than ten minutes, long before the Roman troopships would be within effective rocket range.

  Eight against five, now-and the flotilla commander had seen the carnage when the odds had favored Malwa.

  Suddenly, from the eastern bank of the delta, signal rockets flared into the sky. Green, green, white. Within thirty seconds, all five Malwa galleys were pulling for the shore. Taking the only sensible course, when caught between monsters. Get out of the way.

  "Will you look at them go?" chortled Antonina a few minutes later, watching the Malwa galleys scuttling eastward. "Jason and his Argonauts couldn't have made better speed."

  Ousanas grinned. "Well, of course! What else can they do?"

  He pointed straight ahead. The view was open, now. Already, the shields were being removed and the pole framework dismantled. The fleet of Roman troop vessels was completely clear of the harbor, which was beginning to burn fiercely. A rippling series of explosions shattered the docks themselves.

  "To one side," Ousanas announced, "they have the famous general Belisarius, leading his fearsome men. To the other-worse yet!"

  He began prancing about, lu
nging with his spear. "They face me! I was terrible, terrible-a demon!"

  Antonina burst into laughter. "You spent the entire battle sitting on your ass! Fraud! Impostor!"

  Ousanas shook his head. "That's because I understand the proper place of a commander in battle, woman." Scowling: "And what does that have to do with anything, anyway? It's the soul that matters, not the paltry flesh. Everybody knows that!"

  He bared his teeth at the fleeing galleys. "The soul of Ousanas, that's what terrified them!" A majestic, condescending wave of the hand. "The sarwen helped, of course. A bit."

  Antonina began to make a bantering rejoinder when something caught her eye.

  Someone, rather. The nearest Roman troopship was less than two hundred yards away. A soldier was perched on the very tip of its bow. A tall man, he seemed to be. And he was waving wildly.

  A moment later, Antonina was teetering on the very bow of her own ship, waving frantically, screaming incoherent phrases.

  Jumping up and down, now. Ousanas barely managed to grab her before she fell over the side.

  "Antonina! Be careful! In that cuirass, you'll drown in two minutes."

  Antonina paid him no attention at all. She was weeping now, from sheer joy. Still waving her arms and screaming. And still jumping up and down. Small as she was, and for all his great strength, Ousanas had some difficulty in his newfound task.

  "Marvelous," he growled. "Once again, I have to save a fool Roman woman from destruction."

  Chapter 39

  In the event, Ousanas wound up saving the fool Roman general. When the troopship was almost alongside Antonina's craft, Belisarius-he was leaping about himself, hollering his own ecstasy-slipped and fell over the side.

  Antonina shrieked. Ousanas, by main force, hurled her back into Matthew's arms.

  "Keep her here!" he bellowed. An instant later, Ousanas split the water in a clean dive.

  He found Belisarius in less than fifteen seconds, floundering about, gulping for breath as he tried to unlace his armor. Fortunately, the general was an excellent swimmer and-more fortunately still-was not wearing full cataphract gear. Had he been, Belisarius would already have been dragged under. But the half-armor was heavy enough, and awkward to remove.