The Saints of the Sword (81 page)

“Sweet mother of God,” he whispered. “I don’t bloody believe it …”

Next to Zerio, his “first officer” and drinking comrade Duckworth stomped his feet anxiously. The crew of the
Gladiator
had gathered on the bow.

“Are they Lissens?” asked Duckworth.

“I think so,” said Zerio. “I … I’m not really sure.”

“They must be,” cried a mate.

“What the hell are they doing here?” demanded Duckworth. “And what’s a dreadnought doing with them?”

“God almighty, how should I know?” snapped Zerio. He closed the spyglass and handed it off to one of his mates, a boy from Gorkney no older than sixteen. The boy’s face had gone from seasick green to a terrified white. “All of you, get back to work!” Zerio barked. “This isn’t a circus. Man your stations!”

The crew of the
Gladiator
slowly scattered from the bow. Behind the flagship, the other privateer vessels were slowing. Duckworth looked at Zerio blankly.

“What do we do?” he whispered. “They’ve already seen us. They’re heading right toward us!”

“Shut up and let me think.” Zerio looked over the bow, gauging the distance. The dreadnought and its Lissen
escorts were still a mile away, far enough for Zerio to plan a defense. Though he struggled to make sense of it, he couldn’t imagine why the Lissens were so far north, or why they were led by a dreadnought. But it really didn’t matter. His commission was to protect Talistan. Wallach had paid good gold for his services, and despite his reputation as a pirate, Zerio intended to honor his bargain. He would not let the Lissens pass without a fight.

“Duckworth, signal the other ships for a line of battle formation. We lead. Turn port and get us broadside.”

“What?” sputtered Duckworth.

“We’re not going to let them through,” said Zerio. “Not while we have this kind of firepower.”

“Zerio, those are Lissens. Let’s get out of here!”

“And go where, Duckworth? Back to Talistan? Don’t you think that’s where those cursed devils are heading?”

“Then let them go without a fight. Damn it, Zerio, I didn’t sign on for this! This isn’t our business.”

“It is now.”

“But …”

“Follow my orders!” Zerio exploded. “Get these ships in line of battle. Now!”

Duckworth fell back, then gave the order. Slowly the
Gladiator
began its turn to starboard. Zerio rubbed his hands together, trying to think. He was a smuggler, not a tactician, and he had never been up against a dreadnought before. Or a Lissen. But something compelled him to fight this battle. If he could manage to sink a schooner, he’d be the highest-paid privateer in the Empire.

Aboard the
Dread Sovereign
, Kasrin, Jelena, and Laney waited on the forecastle, pondering the strange armada ahead of them. Upon sighting the Narens, Kasrin had ordered his fleet to slow, giving him time to consider their options. His lookouts had counted well over a dozen ships. From this distance, he couldn’t tell if they carried arms, but he thought it likely. To starboard and port, the Lissen schooners sailed abreast of the
Sovereign
, with Vares’ vessel closest, clinging to the dreadnought’s starboard
side. The
Hammerhead
gleamed in the fading sun, its ram ready to devour its Naren adversaries. But Vares kept a careful pace with the dreadnought. Because Jelena was aboard the
Sovereign
, Vares never dared question Kasrin’s command.

“Look,” said Laney suddenly, pointing. “They’re forming a line.”

Jelena understood instantly. “They’re not going to let us pass,” she said. “They want a fight.”

“Or they want us to turn around and go home,” said Kasrin.

No one bothered to reply. They were along the coast of the Eastern Highlands, barely a full night’s sail to Talistan. Tomorrow was the first day of summer. In the morning, the
Dread Sovereign
was to be on the coast of Talistan, ready to open fire. For almost two weeks they had sailed, blessedly without incident. The weather and wind had cooperated, speeding them northward. Now, staring down the Naren blockade, Kasrin couldn’t believe his quick change of luck.

“We don’t have a choice,” said Jelena finally. “We can’t get around them.”

Laney nodded. “It would take too much time. We’ll have to go through them.”

Kasrin rubbed his temples. “Who the hell are they? And what are they doing here?”

“Talistan doesn’t have a navy,” said Jelena. “Isn’t that what you told me?”

“Yes. And I don’t know what that is out there. Maybe Biagio’s right about Talistan. Maybe they are planning a strike against the Black City.”

“But where’d they get the ships?” asked Laney.

“Purchased them, most likely. Tassis Gayle has money. Looks like he bought himself a navy to go with his army. And whoever they are, they’re not going to let us pass without a fight.”

Jelena scowled. “Privateering rabble,” she stated. “No match for our crews, Blair.”

“We don’t know that,” Kasrin cautioned. “Gayle may have hired someone from the Black Fleet to command. We don’t know what we’re up against.”

“We will best them,” said Jelena. “If they want a fight, we’ll give them one.”

“Whoa,” said Kasrin, taking her by the arm. He pulled her away from Laney, who politely looked aside. “Jelena, I told you already, this isn’t your fight. I can’t let you or your people do this.”

Jelena straightened, pulling away from Kasrin’s grip. “I am not a little girl. And I’m not about to let you run that blockade alone. My ships are coming with you.”

“Jelena …”

“No,” said Jelena firmly, “no arguing. We’ve come this far. We won’t abandon you now; we’re not afraid of battle, Blair.”

“I know,” said Kasrin. “Let’s not argue, please. I need ideas.” He turned again to his first officer. “Laney? What do you think?”

Laney surveyed the fleet. “They outnumber us, no question,” he said. “But Jelena’s right—a bunch of pirates aren’t a match for the schooners or their crews.”

Kasrin nodded. “That’s it, then. We fight.”

“No,” said Jelena. “The schooners will fight. We’ll go through them.”

Kasrin and Laney faced her, puzzled.

“The
Dread Sovereign
has to get to Talistan,” she explained. “We have to break through, get past those ships and keep on going, then let the schooners do the rest.”

“Jelena, I can’t!”

“You know I’m right, Blair; it’s the only way. Look …” Jelena went to the rail and pointed toward the privateers. “They’re forming their line, flagship first. That’s where their commander is, right?”

Kasrin nodded.

“So we change course,” she said. “We go right for that flagship, bringing the starboard cannons alongside. We bloody her nose, then sail past her for Talistan. Vares and the schooners will make sure they don’t pursue.”

Kasrin considered the plan. Since the
Sovereign
’s port cannons had been melted in her battle with the
Fearless
, only the starboard guns were operational. They would
have to go after the lead ship. Without port guns, punching through the center of their line was impossible.

“It’s difficult,” said Kasrin. “We’ll have to be fast.”

“We have the windward,” Laney reminded him. “And once we turn broadside, they’ll be expecting a full assault. They won’t think we’ll try to slip past them.”

“What about Vares and the others?” asked Kasrin.

“Vares will keep them busy,” said Jelena. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Yes, but will he agree?” asked Kasrin. “This isn’t his battle, Jelena.”

Queen Jelena gave a sharp smile. “Vares knows his mission, Blair. And you don’t know him like I do. Those are Narens out there, remember. When it comes to fighting Narens, Vares is insatiable.”

Flags and colored pendants flashed along the deck of the
Dread Sovereign
, and Commander Vares paused to read the message. The
Sovereign
’s signalmen were competent sailors, Vares supposed, but their inexperience with Lissen signals was obvious. Vares deciphered the message as best he could, and when the signalman had finished, the Lissen commander laughed.

“Dorin,” he called to his lieutenant. “Did you get that?”

The young sailor grimaced. “Uhm, not completely, Commander. Are we going to attack?”

“We are absolutely going to attack,” replied Vares. The news heartened him. On the command bridge of his schooner, he put his hands in the pockets of his coat and let his chest swell, imagining the Naren rabble watching through their spyglasses. When he had agreed to Jelena’s request to escort the
Dread Sovereign
to Talistan, he had never imagined they would see battle. According to the signalman, the schooners were to break formation and fall in line after the
Sovereign
, starboard broadside. Remembering that the
Sovereign
’s port guns were useless, the tactic didn’t surprise Vares. He was about to pass the order down
the line when the dreadnought’s signalman started waving more flags. Vares watched him, trying to decipher the confusing mix of numbers and colors.

“Line ahead, then break formation?” he said. “What does that mean?”

Then suddenly he understood. Not all the ships would break formation—just the
Sovereign
. Vares waved to his queen on the deck of the dreadnought.

“I understand, my queen!” he shouted, not sure that she could hear him. “Good luck to you!”

“Commander?” queried Dorin. “What’s happening?”

Vares gave a vicious grin. “Put your fingers in your ears, Lieutenant,” he advised.

While Duckworth ran across deck shouting orders to the crewmen and cannoneers, Captain Zerio stared through his spyglass at the rapidly approaching armada. He had done a fair job of getting his privateer navy into position, forming a wall of cannons as they turned their vessels broadside. Known as a line of battle defense, Zerio had learned it during his short stint in the Naren navy. The formation gave his force an advantage, for all their guns were already turned against the enemy. But now Zerio could see that his adversaries were taking up similar positions, gently turning to port as they sailed northward. They would bring their starboard cannons against his privateers, Zerio knew. The tactic vexed him. He had expected them to try barreling through with their rams, a strategy that would have left their lightly armored bows open to cannon fire. The dreadnought had taken the lead and was heading toward the
Gladiator
. She had the windward, which meant she had the speed, and would soon be within firing range. Zerio cursed his stupidity. Dreadnoughts had flame cannons, and flame cannons had greater range than his old-fashioned powder guns. But it was too late to change tactics. Zerio collapsed the spyglass and let out a string of curses that brought Duckworth hurrying to the bow.

“What’s the matter?” asked his friend.

“The dreadnought,” said Zerio. “She’s ours.”

“So?”

“So she has flame cannons, stupid. She can out-range us.”

“Well goddamn it, why didn’t you think of that?”

“Because I didn’t expect her to take the lead, that’s why,” hissed Zerio. He looked over his shoulder. Behind the
Gladiator
, the
Glorious
was waiting, her crew ready behind their cannons. An idea occurred to him. “Duckworth,” he said, “signal the
Glorious
to follow us. We’ll pull ahead of the others, and try to get the dreadnought between us. Once we’re in position, we can pull around to her portside.”

“And catch her in a cross fire,” guessed Duckworth. “Good idea.”

“Is it? Let’s hope so. Go; give the order.”

Duckworth was off in an instant, calling to his mates. Once again the
Gladiator
picked up speed, but this time the
Glorious
followed close behind, putting a small gap in the privateer line. Zerio watched their progress with satisfaction as the dreadnought sped to outmaneuver them. They had the windward, but not the time. Now they would have to face two ships—or sail right for the center of the line.

“Not bad,” said Zerio, congratulating himself. He had never faced a dreadnought captain in battle before. They weren’t so great, after all.

“She’s changing course!”

Kasrin gripped the rail, his knuckles turning white. The
Dread Sovereign
had picked up the wind and was nearly abreast of the Naren flagship, but another had joined her and was fixing the dreadnought in her guns. Along the deck Kasrin’s men prepared themselves. The starboard flame cannons hummed to life. Kasrin quickly calculated the range between ships. He had the speed, but not the time to outrun them.

“Look,” said Laney. “They’ve left an opening in their line.”

“That’s for us,” cautioned Jelena. “They want us to sail between them.”

“They know we have the range advantage,” said Kasrin.
“Clever bastard.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. Changing course wasn’t an option. Even if he could maneuver through the middle of the line, he had no port weapons to fight off the attack. The flag officer had left him only one choice. “We’ll have to take them both on,” he said. “Laney, take us in closer. Steady as she goes.”

Instead of coming full abreast, the
Dread Sovereign
stopped its turn to sail ahead, tacking toward the waiting Narens. Behind her, Vares’ fleet was getting into position, ready for its showdown with the privateers. It would be a battle, because the Lissens were outnumbered. But they had the skill, Kasrin reminded himself, and all he needed was for them to divert the enemy long enough for the
Sovereign
to slip on by. When the
Sovereign
was safe, Vares could turn against the Narens with the real advantage of the schooners—their legendary speed.

Off the starboard bow, the flagship and its escort were coming into range. Soon the
Sovereign
would be in the tailing vessel’s arc of fire. Kasrin glanced up at the topsails, full of wind and straining at the yards. The ship was at the limit of her speed, and about to take two broadsides. The Narens had outpaced them, bringing their own guns within range. A few moments more …

“Jelena,” said Kasrin quickly, “would it be asking too much for you to get below?”