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.“Bring us into catapult range, Captain, and position the ship for firing.Signal Stalwart to do likewise.If Akrotia can’t move, we can stand off and pound it to bits!”“Aye, sir!”The orders were relayed and signal flags fluttered in the fluky breeze.Under sweeps and minimal sail, the two battleships steered straight at the behemoth, a pair of mice attacking an elephant.But these mice had teeth: each had a siege-caliber catapult mounted amidships just forward of the foremast, able to throw a three-hundred-pound granite sphere two hundred fifty yards.Built for assaulting land-based fortresses, the weapons were rarely used for ship-to-ship combat; they were so unwieldy to aim and load that it was virtually impossible to hit a moving target.But Akrotia wasn’t moving, and it resembled a fortress more than a ship of any kind.Joslan had studied Akrotia for days now.He knew he could damage it.The question was, could he sink it before his ship burst into flames?“Aim for the waterline, Captain.And keep the bucket crews working.I want every bit of this ship doused!”“Aye, sir!Crews worked frantically, heaving around the great catapult, blocks creaking dangerously as the projectiles were lowered into the launcher.Chains of men spread throughout the rigging to haul up buckets of seawater, and the topmen poured it onto every sail and spar.Water flew as if they were sailing through a squall, and all the while the men heaved on the triple banks of oars to the pounding of the time-keeping drum.“In range, Admiral!” the captain shouted.Akrotia loomed like a mountain before them.“Right! Position for starboard-side firing, and have the sweeps keep us on station.” Joslan looked over his shoulder to see Stalwart just reaching firing range as well.“Fire when ready, Captain!”“Catapult crew, ready…” The captain paused, and every eye on the ship stared at their target.Here was a chance to avenge their fellow seamen, to sink this monstrosity of stone and magic and end the menace for good.Indomitable turned slowly, her headway easing as the sweeps churned backward.Admiral Joslan found himself holding his breath in expectation.Then came the word they’d all been waiting for.“FIRE!” the captain roared, and the catapult crew pulled the trip line.The crack of the catapult’s discharge shook the ship from beak to poop, rattling their ears like a clap of thunder.All eyes watched the great stone arc gracefully toward its target.It hit like a battering ram, shattering one of Akrotia’s lower balconies, showering the sea with shards of stone.The crew cheered and thrust their fists into the air, and the captain shouted to reload the weapon.Wind sprang up from astern, and the captain ordered sail reduced to keep them in position.The sweeps backstroked against the pressure, and sailors scrambled to shorten sail.Joslan lifted his spyglass to assess the result, and strangled back a curse.The damage was superficial, too high to violate the integrity of Akrotia’s hull.Another resounding crack, and he turned to watch Stalwart’s shot also strike well above the waterline.“Depress the angle of fire,” he ordered, “and signal Stalwart to follow suit! We need to punch a hole at the waterline, not just damage her brightwork!”While the catapult crew struggled to adjust the weapon, the bucket crews continued to douse the ship with tepid seawater.Every man aboard was soaked to the skin, including the admiral, but Joslan ignored the torrent.He concentrated on their foe, the position of the ships, the rate of fire and the angle of their strikes.He strode the quarterdeck, glared at Akrotia, and prayed to all the Gods of Light that he was just imagining that the deck was getting warm beneath his boots.≈A silent scream of agony tore through Edan as stonework splintered under the impact of the catapult’s shot.Helplessly, he watched as the second ship fired.The pain ignited his anger, and not just at his enemies, but at himself.He had allowed himself be trapped, had let rage override caution, and now he was paying for it.Unlike the scratches dealt by the smaller warship, these weapons actually hurt him.Life is pain.The thought flickered in his mind…their mind.Someone is always trying to hurt you, and if you don’t fight back, you die.It galvanized him.If he didn’t stop the attacks and break free, they would bash him to pieces.The ships before him were made of wood and canvas, tar and hemp.Edan searched for an open flame to coax, but found none.It was of no consequence; if it was flammable, he could burn it.He concentrated and brought his fire to bear.It was difficult; the ships were barely within range of his influence, and dripped with water.He pleaded with the fire and, finally, a sail ignited.He called the breeze to feed the flames, but men cut the sail away, and the cinders fluttered into the sea.Closer, he thought.I need to draw them closer.The winds answered his call, but the sailors struck the rest of their sails and rowed against the wind, keeping their distance.Small colored flags fluttered, and both ships fired their catapults again.Stone shattered with lancing pain, this time the impacts close to his waterline.Akrotia was built strong enough to withstand hurricane waves, but it would not hold up under the battering of stone against stone.Again and again the ships fired, and the granite spheres smashed upon him.Then, like the crack of a bone, he felt a hairline fracture in his hull.Crazed by pain and frustration, Edan raged at the wind, determined to draw the ships to him and immolate them.Gale-force gusts howled around him, pushing on his walls and towers.He turned, and the wounded portion of his hull slid away from the ships.Their next attacks fell on undamaged stone.The pain was muted, and allowed him to think clearly for a moment.He angled the winds and shifted some more.Whatever was mooring him to the seafloor was imperfectly spaced around his hull, tight in some places, and slack in others.Edan shifted the winds again, pulling them in a cyclonic motion, and slowly he spun.He felt the tension on the moorings build as the lines crossed and twisted, and a plan formed in his mind.Higher and higher he urged the winds.He rotated faster.The warships fired again, but their shots fell on another uninjured section.Each rotation increased the tension on his moorings, pulling him down.He felt water lapping at the edges of his harbors.With a surge of panic, he slammed all of his doors to prevent flooding if the sea spilled over his seawalls.The wind screamed, Edan turned, and the pressure increased.Soon, he knew, something would break.≈“Captain!” Joslan yelled over the howling wind.“We’ve got to concentrate our fire! Hold position and wait for the damaged section to come around, then fire as your target bears.Signal Stalwart to do the same.”“Aye, sir!”The admiral scowled as he glanced at the bare spars overhead [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.“Bring us into catapult range, Captain, and position the ship for firing.Signal Stalwart to do likewise.If Akrotia can’t move, we can stand off and pound it to bits!”“Aye, sir!”The orders were relayed and signal flags fluttered in the fluky breeze.Under sweeps and minimal sail, the two battleships steered straight at the behemoth, a pair of mice attacking an elephant.But these mice had teeth: each had a siege-caliber catapult mounted amidships just forward of the foremast, able to throw a three-hundred-pound granite sphere two hundred fifty yards.Built for assaulting land-based fortresses, the weapons were rarely used for ship-to-ship combat; they were so unwieldy to aim and load that it was virtually impossible to hit a moving target.But Akrotia wasn’t moving, and it resembled a fortress more than a ship of any kind.Joslan had studied Akrotia for days now.He knew he could damage it.The question was, could he sink it before his ship burst into flames?“Aim for the waterline, Captain.And keep the bucket crews working.I want every bit of this ship doused!”“Aye, sir!Crews worked frantically, heaving around the great catapult, blocks creaking dangerously as the projectiles were lowered into the launcher.Chains of men spread throughout the rigging to haul up buckets of seawater, and the topmen poured it onto every sail and spar.Water flew as if they were sailing through a squall, and all the while the men heaved on the triple banks of oars to the pounding of the time-keeping drum.“In range, Admiral!” the captain shouted.Akrotia loomed like a mountain before them.“Right! Position for starboard-side firing, and have the sweeps keep us on station.” Joslan looked over his shoulder to see Stalwart just reaching firing range as well.“Fire when ready, Captain!”“Catapult crew, ready…” The captain paused, and every eye on the ship stared at their target.Here was a chance to avenge their fellow seamen, to sink this monstrosity of stone and magic and end the menace for good.Indomitable turned slowly, her headway easing as the sweeps churned backward.Admiral Joslan found himself holding his breath in expectation.Then came the word they’d all been waiting for.“FIRE!” the captain roared, and the catapult crew pulled the trip line.The crack of the catapult’s discharge shook the ship from beak to poop, rattling their ears like a clap of thunder.All eyes watched the great stone arc gracefully toward its target.It hit like a battering ram, shattering one of Akrotia’s lower balconies, showering the sea with shards of stone.The crew cheered and thrust their fists into the air, and the captain shouted to reload the weapon.Wind sprang up from astern, and the captain ordered sail reduced to keep them in position.The sweeps backstroked against the pressure, and sailors scrambled to shorten sail.Joslan lifted his spyglass to assess the result, and strangled back a curse.The damage was superficial, too high to violate the integrity of Akrotia’s hull.Another resounding crack, and he turned to watch Stalwart’s shot also strike well above the waterline.“Depress the angle of fire,” he ordered, “and signal Stalwart to follow suit! We need to punch a hole at the waterline, not just damage her brightwork!”While the catapult crew struggled to adjust the weapon, the bucket crews continued to douse the ship with tepid seawater.Every man aboard was soaked to the skin, including the admiral, but Joslan ignored the torrent.He concentrated on their foe, the position of the ships, the rate of fire and the angle of their strikes.He strode the quarterdeck, glared at Akrotia, and prayed to all the Gods of Light that he was just imagining that the deck was getting warm beneath his boots.≈A silent scream of agony tore through Edan as stonework splintered under the impact of the catapult’s shot.Helplessly, he watched as the second ship fired.The pain ignited his anger, and not just at his enemies, but at himself.He had allowed himself be trapped, had let rage override caution, and now he was paying for it.Unlike the scratches dealt by the smaller warship, these weapons actually hurt him.Life is pain.The thought flickered in his mind…their mind.Someone is always trying to hurt you, and if you don’t fight back, you die.It galvanized him.If he didn’t stop the attacks and break free, they would bash him to pieces.The ships before him were made of wood and canvas, tar and hemp.Edan searched for an open flame to coax, but found none.It was of no consequence; if it was flammable, he could burn it.He concentrated and brought his fire to bear.It was difficult; the ships were barely within range of his influence, and dripped with water.He pleaded with the fire and, finally, a sail ignited.He called the breeze to feed the flames, but men cut the sail away, and the cinders fluttered into the sea.Closer, he thought.I need to draw them closer.The winds answered his call, but the sailors struck the rest of their sails and rowed against the wind, keeping their distance.Small colored flags fluttered, and both ships fired their catapults again.Stone shattered with lancing pain, this time the impacts close to his waterline.Akrotia was built strong enough to withstand hurricane waves, but it would not hold up under the battering of stone against stone.Again and again the ships fired, and the granite spheres smashed upon him.Then, like the crack of a bone, he felt a hairline fracture in his hull.Crazed by pain and frustration, Edan raged at the wind, determined to draw the ships to him and immolate them.Gale-force gusts howled around him, pushing on his walls and towers.He turned, and the wounded portion of his hull slid away from the ships.Their next attacks fell on undamaged stone.The pain was muted, and allowed him to think clearly for a moment.He angled the winds and shifted some more.Whatever was mooring him to the seafloor was imperfectly spaced around his hull, tight in some places, and slack in others.Edan shifted the winds again, pulling them in a cyclonic motion, and slowly he spun.He felt the tension on the moorings build as the lines crossed and twisted, and a plan formed in his mind.Higher and higher he urged the winds.He rotated faster.The warships fired again, but their shots fell on another uninjured section.Each rotation increased the tension on his moorings, pulling him down.He felt water lapping at the edges of his harbors.With a surge of panic, he slammed all of his doors to prevent flooding if the sea spilled over his seawalls.The wind screamed, Edan turned, and the pressure increased.Soon, he knew, something would break.≈“Captain!” Joslan yelled over the howling wind.“We’ve got to concentrate our fire! Hold position and wait for the damaged section to come around, then fire as your target bears.Signal Stalwart to do the same.”“Aye, sir!”The admiral scowled as he glanced at the bare spars overhead [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]