Heraclius and his team were already winching the pole back into position and another of the curious clay balls was being placed into the sling.
Bleidbara was grinning at him. ‘Heraclius calls it pyr thalassion in his own language. He translates it as liquid fire. He says that his father Callinicus was developing it in Byzantium. It gives us more advantage against these sea-raiders now.’
Eadulf was speechless. Fire that could not be put out by water? It was terrifying. Barbaric. No wonder Heraclius had been guarding the secret so closely.
There was a strange whistling sound through the air as the enemy archers released their first salvo. The range was closing and several arrows embedded themselves into the ship.
Once more Eadulf heard the bang of the hammer striking the pin and felt the slight shudder of the ship beneath him as Heraclius’ infernal weapon was released.
This time the clay ball fragmented on the forward deck of the oncoming vessel, and it erupted in flame. He could hear the cries of alarm from the enemy, saw men running forward with buckets of water. But even as he watched, he saw how the water merely pushed the flame here and there, and made no impact on dousing it.
Bleidbara’s crew let out a cheer. A sharp word from Bleidbara and they fell silent; another command and the archers lining the portside of the vessel took aim and, as one man, released their flight of arrows. Screams echoed across the water, showing that some of them had found targets.
For a third time Heraclius and his men made ready their onager and released it. This time, the terrible contents of the clay ball fell in the centre of the main deck and that was soon ablaze.
Six of the clay balls had been brought onto the deck and already Heraclius was superintending the loading of a fourth in his machine.
Bleidbara shouted to him: a call to pause. Stepping to the rail, and using his hands as a trumpet to project his voice, Bleidbara called across to the vessel where the flames were catching hold of the timbers. Eadulf presumed it was a call for the Koulm ar Maro to surrender. The answer came in a shower of arrows, one of which struck a crew member, and even as he fell, Eadulf saw he was beyond assistance.
Bleidbara signalled to Heraclius again. Once more came the ominous shudder and the projectile could be seen striking the stern of the vessel near the helm before the area erupted in flame.
Bleidbara was shouting to his own helmsman who pulled the vessel over, edging it near the burning Koulm ar Maro. Once again, he was calling on his enemy to surrender – without response. Eadulf peered into the mass of flame now spreading over its decks, trying to search out the slight figure in white that he remembered so well. There was no sign of him among those running to and fro on the deck, trying to put out the flames that roared inexorably around them. There seemed to be no one in command, for the enemy crew appeared in confusion. Some tried to put out the flames while others wielded swords in futile gestures towards the closing vessel. Others still tried to shoot their bows, seeming to get in each other’s way.
Eadulf was gazing in horror at the terrible inferno. Suddenly an awesome thought came to his mind.
‘Trifina! What if the lady Trifina is a prisoner on board?’
Bleidbara stared at him aghast, his face white despite the reflected glow of the flames. In his battle fever, he had forgotten about Trifina.
Bleidbara shouted again, yet another demand for surrender, but an arrow whistled by his face and embedded itself into a spar nearby. Had Eadulf been standing closer, it would have found a target in him. Heraclius had released yet another of his terrifying clay balls into the ship, where it burst against the central mast, the flames roaring upwards as if racing to get to the top of it.
The entire deck of the Koulm ar Maro was a hungry sea of flames. Here and there, some men were jumping overboard, some with their clothes alight – which were not put out even when the unfortunates struck the water.
Bleidbara turned to his helmsman with a swift order and the helm went over.
‘We are hauling off from her,’ he explained to Eadulf. ‘This fire is too much. We must save ourselves from her flames.’
Eadulf could still see men jumping from the decks of the sea-raider. But he saw no sign of the slight figure in white that he was hoping to spot. He prayed that Trifina was not a prisoner on that dying ship. Some of Bleidbara’s crew had brought out long wooden poles and were using them to push the ship away from the sides of the burning vessel. They swung free, their sails filling again as they clawed across the waves, distancing themselves from the blazing inferno. Within a few moments they could see little resemblance to the fighting ship that they had approached. The hungry flames were all-consuming; decks, bows and the entire hull of the vessel seemed to be one pyre of crackling flame.
Having secured the remaining clay balls below deck, Heraclius came trotting back along the deck to join Eadulf. There was a strange, rather sad expression on his face.
‘So that was what you didn’t want us to find?’ Eadulf commented dryly.
‘It is something my father developed for our emperor, Constantinos. It is something that I hope no one else discovers.’
‘A terrible weapon,’ Eadulf agreed heavily. ‘No one could stand against that.’
Then: ‘Look!’ cried Heraclius. ‘Look at that!’
Everyone stood watching in silence. There was a strange gurgling sound. As they stood, fascinated and unable to tear their eyes away, the gurgling grew louder and the flames suddenly ceased. Against the darkness of the island there was nothing to be seen, not even a glimmer of fire, just a pall of smoke rising above the waters and dispersing in the breeze. The sea-raider had sunk with such abruptness that it was as if the vessel, even blazing as it was, had simply vanished. Swallowed into the hungry maw of the sea.
Bleidbara was calling orders and the crew swarmed up the rigging to the sails while the helmsman put the tiller hard over.
‘We are putting the ship about to see if there are any survivors,’ Heraclius explained.
‘From that?’ Eadulf shook his head sadly. Surely there was little hope.
Amazingly, contrary to his expectation, some people had escaped unscathed; they were dragged from the water. Soaked and demoralised, they were brought aft to be questioned by Bleidbara.
‘Ask them if the lady Trifina was on board,’ Eadulf reminded him, although such a reminder was unnecessary.
Only one of the prisoners answered Bleidbara – and that only in monosyllables. Bleidbara struck him twice across the face, making Eadulf wince. He hated such brutality but had to admit that if it forced the man to speak, perhaps it was justified. Even so, the man was still defiant and his expression was one of hatred.
‘He says there is a woman on the other ship,’ Bleidbara interpreted.
‘What other ship?’ demanded Eadulf. ‘The Barnacle Goose?’
The prisoner shrugged and Bleidbara was shouting at him again. Eadulf could not understand what was being said although a word that sounded like ‘looverdee’ was repeated several times.
In fact, Bleidbara grew quite violent with the man at this, grabbing him by the throat and thrusting his face within an inch of the prisoner’s own. He shook him like a dog might shake a rabbit, and Eadulf could hear the man’s teeth rattle.
The prisoner was still defiant but responded, repeating the word ‘looverdee’. Bleidbara turned to Eadulf.
‘He says the other ship is hidden on an island called Enez Lovrdi, which means the Leper’s Island.’
‘Do you know it?’ asked Eadulf.
‘I do. It is a small island not far from here – once used for lepers to dwell in, isolated from the rest of the communities. There is an old, grey-stone fortress there but it is no longer habitable.’ Bleidbara seemed annoyed with himself. ‘I had never thought to search there. People generally shun the island. So that is where the Koulm ar Maro was hidden all this time.’
‘Well,’ Eadulf said with grim satisfaction, ‘let us go and collect the Barnacle Goose. Where is the y
oung captain, the one in white? Did he perish with the ship?’
Bleidbara shook his head. ‘It was hard to extract information from the man,’ he said as he glared at the prisoner.
‘So what is the plan? They might have left more men on this island to defend it in case of attack.’
Bleidbara rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘I see your point. We need to make some plan of attack.’
‘One that does not put our friends on the Barnacle Goose at risk,’ Eadulf pointed out.
After a few moments, Bleidbara had decided on his next move. ‘I am in favour of sailing the Morvran directly to the island and making an immediate attack. At least the Koulm ar Maro is sunk and they have no large ship to counter our attack now.’
‘We should find out where it is anchored and how many men there are to defend it.’
Bleidbara grinned, saying, ‘You have missed your calling, Brother Eadulf. You should have been a strategist.’ Turning aside, he then whispered, ‘This prisoner might speak Latin. Whatever I do, I want you to support me and not be shocked by anything.’
Bewildered, Eadulf nodded.
‘If we can get the information we want, I will.’
Bleidbara turned to a couple of his crewmen and issued orders. One of them took a rope and threw it over a spar, then proceeded to tie one end into a noose. The prisoner watched wide-eyed as the task was quickly accomplished.
Bleidbara spoke to him harshly, then he turned to Eadulf and said in Latin: ‘I have told him that he is a pirate, a murderer and thief, and he knows the consequences of his actions.’
The man began to tremble a little. And muttered something.
‘It seems our pirate pleads for mercy,’ interpreted Bleidbara.
‘Mercy has to be earned,’ Eadulf said, playing his part. ‘I can only pray that he will find mercy in the next world.’
‘You are right, Brother Eadulf. It is no use asking him for information. I will tell my men to put the noose around his neck.’
The man’s hands were secured behind his back and, with a struggle, the noose was put in place.
The man was sobbing now and talking almost incoherently. There was no need for Bleidbara to interpret. Eadulf’s expression of disgust was genuine, for he was revolted by the whole spectacle.
However, Bleidbara was right. The man did speak some Latin and was straining towards Eadulf.
‘Please, please, Brother. You are a man of God. You cannot let him do this.’
Eadulf turned to him with a severe expression, saying, ‘The captain is within his rights. You are guilty of the things he charges. Why should I intervene?’
‘I am entitled to a trial…I am—’
‘You are entitled to nothing more than the lack of mercy you showed your victims,’ interrupted Bleidbara harshly. He said something to his men and one of them tightened the rope so that the prisoner was forced up on tiptoe.
The man screamed as he found himself being hauled up.
‘Stop!’ Eadulf ordered. ‘Lower him. Perhaps he could earn a hearing before one of your bretats – but only if he answers our questions.’
The man almost collapsed, coughing and sobbing. Bleidbara seemed to consider what Eadulf said for a moment.
‘I might be lenient – if he tells me how many of his band are on Enez Lovrdi, exactly where they are placed, and where the prisoners are held.’
The words immediately came tumbling out of the man.
‘There are only half a dozen fighting men on the merchant ship which we captured some days ago…’
‘And the prisoners?’
‘They are kept in the hold of the ship which is anchored in a creek on the north side of the island. It is deep water but surrounded by trees, so that it is hidden from casual observance.’
‘Are there lookouts at the fortress?’
‘Everyone who was left on the island is on the merchant ship.’
‘And you say that the woman is aboard?’
‘She is.’
‘Where is your captain?’
The man gestured with the point of his chin towards the debris now floating on the waters.
‘He was hit directly by one of those fireballs. So was the mate.’
‘Was he a slight man dressed in white?’ intervened Eadulf.
The prisoner looked at him blankly. ‘Taran? He was a big man from Pou-Kaer…Oh, you mean the man who gave Taran orders? He often came on our raids with us. No, he was not on board.’
‘Who is he? Where is he? At this Enez Lovrdi?’ demanded Bleidbara.
‘Not on the island,’ replied the man. ‘As for who he is, I don’t know. I presumed Taran knew. Whenever he came on board, he was dressed in white with a mask. A merciless man. You did not disobey him with impunity.’
‘So where is he now?’ demanded Eadulf sharply.
‘Our captain said our orders were to head out to sea and then come along the Rhuis Peninsula on the seaward side tonight at dusk. We were to wait near the cliffs by the abbey. Then pick up the man in white and his companion.’
‘At dusk?’
The prisoner nodded rapidly.
‘And you swear that you do not know who this young man is, who has been giving you orders?’ pressed Eadulf.
‘I truly do not know who he is, Brother. Do not punish me for my ignorance. I have never seen him unmasked. I never saw his features, and if anyone dared disobey his orders then death was the immediate penalty. Even our captain, Taran, was in fear of him.’
‘Were you ever told what cause you were fighting for?’ intervened Bleidbara.
‘For booty, for riches – that is all I know.’
Eadulf gazed down at the wretched man, who was now kneeling on the deck, hands still tied behind him and with the loosened rope still around his neck.
‘One question more. Who supplied you with your arrows? They are all well made.’
The man hesitated a moment, as if surprised by the question, before replying, ‘The man in white supplied them and told us to use them. Also to use the banner and to make sure it was seen when we carried out our attacks.’
‘Did he explain the purpose?’
‘Perhaps to Taran but not to us.’
‘Let him be taken back to the other prisoners.’ Eadulf sighed, feeling a little disgusted with himself at having to force the information out of him in such a manner.
Bleidbara gave the order but was gazing at Eadulf with something akin to admiration.
‘Well, Brother Eadulf, I swear that you make a good conspirator. That man would not have spoken, had we not frightened him to extract the information.’
Eadulf’s expression was one of repugnance.
‘I did not enjoy the experience. What if he had refused to give the information?’ he asked.
‘Then we would have had to keep him a prisoner so that he could be tried,’ shrugged Bleidbara.
Eadulf’s eyes widened. ‘You were just playing a game?’
‘I did not think it was a game,’ Bleidbara assured him. ‘But we needed the information and quickly.’
‘And now we have that information?’ queried Heraclius, speaking for the first time since the scene was played out before him.
‘I suggest that we sail directly for Enez Lovrdi, for this creek, and board the Barnacle Goose. While some of my men engage the guards, Eadulf will head for the hold and release the prisoners. He knows them, so he can reassure them about what is happening. Do we agree?’
‘I should go with Eadulf,’ Heraclius advised. ‘He will need someone to watch his back.’
‘Agreed,’ replied Bleidbara. ‘I’ll instruct the men now, for we do not have much time before we are upon the island.’
It seemed only minutes later that the Morvran was bearing down on a heavily wooded island. Bleidbara was determined to lead the assault himself and passed over the handling of the ship to his first mate. Already the sails were coming down and two smaller boats were swung out and lowered even as the Morvran closed towards what at firs
t seemed a wall of dark rocks and trees. But as they came nearer, Eadulf saw that the rocks parted into a passage. Edging closer still, he saw the stern end of a large ship and felt a sudden elation as, more by instinct than recollection, he recognised the Barnacle Goose.
He and Heraclius scrambled into one of the boats, joining Bleidbara and several of his men. Other warriors climbed into the second boat. Both small vessels were quickly propelled towards the creek in which the Barnacle Goose was moored.
A shout from the ship told them they had been spotted. Eadulf was surprised that they had not been seen long before. Perhaps the guards who had been left behind were lax in their watch or were more concerned with watching their prisoners than thinking of an external attack.
A few arrows flew harmlessly into the waters around them and then they were bumping against the side of the large seagoing vessel and Bleidbara’s men were swarming up the sides. Yelling and the clash of metal, along with the occasional cry of pain, filled the air as Eadulf grasped the rope and hauled himself up on the familiar deck he had quit what seemed a lifetime ago. Was it really just a few days? Heraclius came quickly after him.
The deck was now a confusion of struggling bodies, men intent on killing each other. Eadulf dodged through them, the young Greek at his side, and headed towards the hold of the ship. It was no use trying to remove the deck hatches and so he led the way down beyond the stern cabins, for he knew that a small hatchway led from there into the cargo hold. They met with only one man, who seemed to be guarding the gangway; he lunged at Eadulf with his sword and, as Eadulf threw himself aside, Heraclius pressed forward and drove his weapon under the man’s ribs. With a gurgling scream, the assailant sank to the ground.
The Dove of Death Page 31