Parno's Destiny: The Black Sheep of Soulan: Book Two (24 page)

“Sir,” Merrill said again, quickly moving to survey their ships.

*****

“Good hits on first volley, sir!” Nettles reported. “Two enemy cruisers and three frigates are hurt badly!”

“Well done, lads,” Semmes said softly. “Prepare the signal for ramming speed as soon as the port broadsides are expended. Fire from chase weapons to resume as soon as they bear.”

“Aye sir!” Nettles raced to the signal platform where the fleet signals officer was already prepared to hoist new orders. The
Wabash
fired again before he made it.

*****

“
Illini
and
Razor
are listing heavily, Admiral,” Merrill managed to maintain his calm this time. “
Rouge
,
Gypsy
and
Wind Jammer
likewise heavily damaged.
Rogue
is likely lost,” he added. “At least three other ships hit but still capable.”

“Very well,” Selvey kept his own calm voice as well. Again his enemy had caught him unaware. Even as he watched, the Southern Fleet continued to turn, unmasking their port batteries.

“Signal fleet to execute scatter!” Selvey ordered at once, but still far too late.

*****

“Port broadsides away, Admiral,” Nettles returned. “Orders posted to resume course and speed.”

“Excellent,” Semmes nodded. “Damage report?” The Imperials were still firing.

“Their targeting is off because of the turns, sir,” Nettles reported. “
Wasee
has taken a hit but is still in formation.
Webb
and
Donovan
are hit,
Webb
falling away and on fire,
Donovan
still in formation for the moment but also with sails alight.
Agamennon
also has after sails ablaze but the fire appears contained.”

Better than he'd hoped. Another cruiser hit, still another with a sail on fire but both still in line. A frigate surely lost, another burning but still fighting at least for the moment.             

It was in the hands of his captains, now. He had done all he could for the moment. He raised his glass to see what the latest volley had accomplished.

*****

“
Sorcerer
and
Razor
are gone, sir,” Merrill reported quietly. “Both are hulled and sinking.
Illini
is listing, but the fires will get her first.
Vagabond
and
Wanderer
are now hit as well, with
Vagabond
burning.” 

“They've had their turn,” Selvey's voice was grim, almost savage. “They can't risk another turn like that to unmask without losing more speed than they can afford. Our weapons should bracket them now.”

“Sir,” Merrill nodded, keeping his eyes on their own ships this time. Selvey's none too subtle reminder of his place was still ringing in his ears. He felt the
Indina
shudder as her weaponry fired a volley at the approaching enemy.

*****

“
Tinsee
is lost, sir,” Nettles reported flatly. “
Holton
is fully ablaze but her sails are still full, I think Captain Ring will still try to ram before the fire can destroy his ship.
Vaughan, Forsythe
and
Willis
are now falling out of line as well. I think
Forsythe
is lost sir, and
Willis
may be as well. Two others have fires aboard but are still in line.”

The report finally ended and Semmes tried to keep his face impassive. He'd known it would be rough, he reminded himself. He'd lost half the ships he'd entered the fight with and was still not quite into ramming range. Atop of that, the troopships that were his target were still safely behind the remaining Imperial warships.

He had to face the fact that he might have failed his Sovereign.

“Sails! Sails south!”

*****

“What?” Selvey snapped as the warning came.

“Many sails South-Southwest! Ships in view! At least ten ships abreast!”

“How the hell did they get so close!” Selvey bellowed.

Above him, his lookouts had been watching the battle and not watching the horizon. The fires had obscured their vision as well, forcing many to cover their faces in order to breathe. Whichever cause was responsible for their inattention, that negligence had allowed Anthony David's Keyhorn ships to approach to striking range unnoticed.

“Signal the fleet to close in!” Selvey shouted. He had just issued the order to scatter in order to avoid the expected broadsides from the Royal battle line and some of his ships were still maneuvering. Now they would have to reverse course and do it quickly in order to meet this new attack.

Selvey's insistence on issuing all orders himself was about to cost him and his men heavily.

*****

“I think they see us, sir,” Riddell grinned in spite of the possibility of his approaching demise.

“I'd have to agree, Mister Riddell,” David grinned back. “Orders stand. Signal all ships to fire at will.”

*****

“It's David!” Nettles cried out. “The Keyhorn ships are behind the enemy front!”

“Well done, Anthony,” Semmes breathed. His losses had not been in vain if David could get at the enemy troopships.

“David only has four cruisers, sir,” Nettles reminded him.

“I am aware of that, Mister Nettles,” the Admiral replied calmly. “He knows his duty, as do his men. Signal all ships to close and ram, then stand by for close action. And raise the black flag, I suppose,” he added. “Give them something else to think about.”

*****

Selvey watched the black flags appear one at a time above the Soulan ships, his mouth set in a grim line.

I should have expected that
, he told himself savagely.
We're threatening their homeland. Of course they'll fight to the death.

“Sir, the troopships are taking fire,” Merrill reported. “The new ships are concentrating on them for some reason.”

“You can't possibly be that stupid, Mister Merrill,” Selvey sounded tired. “Those troopships are the sole reason for our being here, you little moron! If they can get word back to. . .” He stopped, turning back to see. . . .

Yes, the two cutters were still there. Through his glass he could just make them out. Sails down, oars out, waiting.

Waiting to tell their leaders if there really is an army aboard these ships.

The thought hit him solidly even as Merrill babbled yet another useless report. The damned Soulanies never intended to fight him in a real naval duel they knew they couldn't win. They were sacrificing themselves in an attempt to sink the troopships. Even if there were soldiers aboard, if the ships were sunk then the troops would largely be lost in the ocean.

And if the southerners discovered there were no troops, then Selvey's mission would be a failure. Complete and abject failure.

“Signal the fleet to protect those ships at all costs!” Selvey yelled directly to the
Idina
's signal officer. “Disregard all other concerns and protect those ships!”

*****

“We're hurting them, sir.” Riddell reported. “Three ships on fire and another listing sharply. Hulled, I think.”

“Any sign of enemy troops?” David asked, looking for himself.

“Not as yet, sir, though there should be, considering. They should have men ready to repel boarders or deal with damage to the ship if. . .” the younger man trailed off suddenly, recognition dawning.

He directed his glass to the troopships' water lines, ignoring their minimal weapons and deck actions. He went swiftly from ship to ship, surveying all of them in his view.

“Sir, none of those ships are riding heavy,” he said finally. “I. . .I don't think they're carrying anything other than their own crews and stores.”

“I do believe you are correct, Mister Riddell,” David nodded as he lowered his own glass. “We can't make that assumption just yet, however,” he added sadly. “We're going to have to see for sure.”

“Yes sir,” Riddell nodded.

“Have Captain Ball direct us to the nearest vessel and prepare to ram,” David ordered. “Inform Major Bromley that we'll probably have work for his Marines shortly. And then prepare the proper signals for the Admiral. If these ships are empty, he has to know that in time to send the message out. Move!”

Riddell scurried away, already shouting orders in every direction. It took only two minutes for David to feel the deck of the
Ocoee
shift beneath him as her Captain, Luther Ball, turned his ship toward the nearest troopship, which just happened to be the largest as well.

“Always the show off, aren't you Luther?” David grinned slightly. Well, considering the likely outcome of the next few minutes, David didn't see the harm.

Just this once.

*****

“Dammit, I want ships interdicting those ships now!” Selvey swore at the hapless signals officer.

“Signals have been sent, Admiral,” the Commander risked saying. “All ships, defend transports and merchant hulls. Disregard losses.”

“The Soulanies have raised the black flag, Admiral!” Merrill reported, running up to Selvey nearly breathless.

“Mister Merrill, please remove yourself from my presence,” Selvey said far more evenly than he felt. “I cannot abide your incompetence any longer. Open your mouth again at your own peril!” he added when Merrill seemed about to speak further.

The young Captain stood there another few seconds then stiffened to attention, whirled on his heel, and departed. Having left unsaid that the westward Soulanie battle line was about to make contact.

He'll know soon enough, won't he
? Merrill thought savagely as he made his way to the wheel deck to take command of his own ship once more.

Behind him, Selvey continued to bellow orders to the signal section, demanding actions and information that they simply could not provide.

*****

“Brace, brace, BRACE!” the call went throughout the
Ocoee
as her target loomed large to her front. David pocketed his own glass and sat upon the deck, taking firm hold of the railing and bracing his feet against the deck rail to his front.

Ramming was never enjoyable.

The
Ocoee
slammed her iron-reinforced bow into the port side of the Imperial Transport Ship
Pontoc
, her nose slicing neatly through the standard wood side of her target. The
Pontoc
was a merchant vessel more or less, and had never been intended to be anywhere near actual naval combat.

And she never would be again after today.

The
Ocoee
scarcely slowed as she cut the
Pontoc
neatly in two, leaving a destroyed and sinking vessel in her wake.

“As you will, Mister Ball!” David called down to the command deck beneath him, releasing Ball to select his own targets from that point on. Ball waved in reply and barked out orders to the two sailors manning the wheel of the
Ocoee
. Once more the cruiser shifted her direction, metal still screeching and wood continuing to splinter as she pulled away from the rapidly sinking
Pontoc.

David surveyed his squadron from his position on the observation deck, a grim smile decorating his face. Two of his frigates, the
Greggs
and the
Piper
, had successfully rammed transports equally as large as the
Ocoee
's first victim, their Captains sacrificing themselves and their ships to protect the Kingdom. Both ships were badly damaged though somehow still afloat. David ordered signals to both ships to withdraw and make for shore if possible. They had done their part for King and Country today.

His other three cruisers had likewise made good on their targets. Two were continuing into the flock of merchant vessels, though the last, the
Pinola
, appeared to be hung up on her target. Marines and sailors flooded her decks attempting to clear away the damage as archers and arbalests fired bolt after arrow at the enemy, preventing them from attacking the work crews.

There was a decided absence of soldiers among the ships they had rammed. No soldiers on the decks helping defend the ships, none in the water after their vessels had been rammed. David took the time to scan the entire area again before making his decision.

There weren't any soldiers here, after all, he sighed. So much lost for nothing.

“Mister Riddell!” David shouted. “Order the signal sent at once to the Admiral! Transports are empty! Raise the signal, and instruct all ships to raise it in repeat as well!”

“Sir!” Riddell replied and made for the signal officer.