The Lore of the Evermen (Evermen Saga, #4)

Finally, the dreadnoughts passed by close on the Seekrieger’s port side.

The two lumbering ships, each nearly as big as a Veldrin warship, followed in the wake of the Buchalanti blue cruisers. Deniz corrected himself: they weren’t lumbering; they easily out-distanced the Seekrieger, but in comparison with the storm riders, they were slow. Deniz had yet to see the dreadnoughts in action. Scherlic said they needed to conserve their power.

The nimbler Buchalanti ships would approach the enemy from the rear. It was deemed best for the two fleets not to get in each other’s way, and when the enemy came to meet the Veldrin fleet, the Buchalanti would hopefully surprise them from the other side.

Deniz watched as the Buchalanti vessels grew smaller and finally disappeared into the distance. Hours passed by in a blur, the ocean beckoned, and Deniz tacked to gain speed, noting each of the following warships tack behind him in perfect synchronization. The waves grew in size, and the color of the water changed until it was the deep blue of the open zone. Deniz put on all sail and felt his ship lean forward like a Narean racing horse at the gate.

“Sails, ho!” the lookout called.

“Where away?”

“Dead north, Commodore!”

Deniz risked one more tack, drawing close at an oblique angle to confuse the enemy, and he watched the incredible vision of countless sails appear out of the horizon. He checked the line behind him and nodded, then returned to watching the armada.

He could now make out individual ships on the fringes; these were smaller scouts, faster than Deniz’s warships, and they fled as he approached, heading for the safety of the larger cruisers and warships, huddling close to the bigger ships like a duckling seeking its mother’s protection.

“Send the order! Close ranks!” Deniz cried.

He turned a point closer to the wind and bled speed to give his fleet time to draw up into battle formation. Deniz didn’t want any gaps in his line when he fired the cannon.

Deniz was now close enough to make out individual men, and he gasped.

Every ship, large and small, swarmed with men. They were in the rigging and clustered on the decks, the vessels wallowing so heavily they no doubt filled the holds. As Deniz’s Veldrin squadron approached, he could now make out the glow of runes on the enemy ships’ planking, though he didn’t know what the purpose of the lore was. He put it out of his mind; there was nothing he could do about it now.

Their cargoes of revenants would make these ships slow, and the warriors on the decks would get in the way of the sailors, Deniz reminded himself. The advantage was his.

“Ready . . . Tack!” Deniz cried.

The Seekrieger heeled over, and the snapping mainsail swung the heavy boom from one side of the ship to the other with deadly force. The sound of more sails resounded like the cracking of whips, and Deniz almost laughed with the beauty of it; these men were the best crew he’d ever sailed with. With perfect precision, every following warship in Deniz’s line tacked at just the right moment, turning hard from one keel to the other, close enough now that a daring man could leap from one Veldrin warship to the next. The ships now traveled bow to stern, moving past the prows of the enemy vessels, the cannon murderously facing just where they needed to be.

There was no point in parlay. This army was the same force that had destroyed Veldria. This was war.

“Fire!” Deniz roared.

The report of the cannon crashed through the air, a booming thunder that shook the Seekrieger and sent her heeling before she righted herself.

Behind him he heard another boom, and then after a heartbeat’s pause, another growl of thunder. If they’d fired together, their strength would have been wasted; the task was to launch each salvo one after the next. Deniz’s captains knew exactly what to do.

Deniz watched the terrible destruction as the heavy iron cannon balls tore through the enemy vessels.

The air filled with the whiz of hurtling balls, and the subsequent crashes sounded like twigs snapping under the foot of a giant. Splinters flew in the air; masts and rigging came crashing down; and smoke obscured Deniz’s vision so that he cursed. Then a breeze carried the black clouds away, and Deniz saw a cluster of enemy ships sinking. Fires raged and bodies filled the water. An enemy warship exploded as her magazine caught, the detonation so massive it took down two clustered scout ships.

Deniz saw a number of enemy ships behind those he’d destroyed. Dodging the return fire, he called out to tack again, and circled around for another strike.





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