5.Death of Chaos
XCIV
Worrak, Hydlen [Candar]
THE STAFF ON the breakwater flies the crimson banner of Hydlen, a banner ragged from the rock chips and shell fragments flying around and through it. A squat stone-walled fort rises from the middle of the breakwater.
In the nearly flat blue waters of the Gulf of Candar circle the steel-hulled ships, plumes of smoke from their funnels identifying them as steam-powered, the golden sunburst on the pale blue flag identifying them as from Hamor.
Another shell arches over the breakwater and into the fort that guards the harbor entrance. Stones cascade down from the breech in the wall, rolling into the oily water of the harbor. The crimson banner of Hydlen, more ragged, continues to flutter in the sea breeze.
With the regularity of a pendulum, the shells leave the guns of the Hamorian squadron, and with nearly equal regularity slam into the fortifications that bar the invaders from the port of Worrak.
On the bridge of the Frentensea, Leithrrse smiles as he watches the progress of the guns in hammering down the barriers to the harbor.
“Won't be long now, ser,” advises the captain. “Not long at all before we can steam right in.”
“Good. Good. Teach those Hydlenese a lesson. And the black devils hiding on their island.”
The captain glances seaward, frowning. “Something out there. Maybe they're not hiding any longer.”
“Out there?”
“I'm more worried about Recluce than Hydlen, ser.”
“The unseen ships?” Leithrrse laughs.
“Unseen, mayhap, but those unseen ships have sunk near on a dozen of ours so far.” The captain squints. “See... there's a wake out there. Low one, and it's headed our way.”
“Guns!” yells the envoy and acting regent, gesturing toward the wake.
“How do you hit a ship you can't see?” asks the gunnery chief.
“There's a wake there. Use the wake,” snaps the captain. “Aim right ahead of the wake. Use enough shells and you'll hit it.”
“But don't they have magical armor?”
“Demon-damn! No magic is going to stop a five-stone shell! Stop bitching and start aiming. Leapfrog the guns if you have to.”
“Yes, ser.”
Once the gunnery officer has left, the captain wipes his forehead.
Leithrrse smiles as the gunnery officer begins to bellow orders and the turrets turn.
Geysers of water raised by the Hamorian shells begin to appear in the offshore waters in front of the thin line of white that marks the track of the unseen attacker.
After a rocket slams into the thicker armor above the waterline of the Frentensea, flames cascade up over the side of the Hamorian ship, even as the dull impact of the rocket echoes through the hull.
More shells track the invisible attacker, and more water geysers up from the flat shallow waves of the Gulf around the Recluce vessel that the Hamorian gunners cannot see.
A thin haze of gunpowder smoke creeps across the sky, then drifts shoreward, where it combines with spray off the breakwater to shroud the battered harbor fort.
The Frentensea shivers as her bow explodes in flame.
“Keep shooting!” yells Leithrrse.
More columns of water flare into the sky, then collapse into themselves in a mass of spray on the nearly calm waters of the lower Gulf of Candar.
Two rockets strike the smaller ironclad beside the Frentensea, and flames race across the forward decks and around the main turret. Another set of flames licks the superstructure.
CcccccRRRuMMMMMPPPTTT! Chunks of iron and wood fly skyward with the explosion of the smaller ironclad.
Leithrrse ducks behind the iron shielding on the Frentensea's bridge, but the fragments from the smaller Hamorian ship clatter against the hull harmlessly, and the flagship leaves the widening oil slick behind, a slick that oozes over wood fragments, and a few struggling figures. Flames lick at the oiliest parts of the slick, creeping toward the survivors.
The Frentensea's big guns continue to lead the curving wake of the unseen Recluce vessel.
“Ser! There's another one!” The lookout points astern, where a wake, almost foam-white, arrows toward the big Hamorian cruiser.
“Guns! Keep on the outboard one!” snaps Leithrrse. “Get him first!”
A huge fireball blossoms in the middle of the seemingly empty sea, and then a low black structure appears, breaking into fragments as Leithrrse watches, the flames raging across the waters as the wreckage plummets from sight.
“Now... the other-”
WHHHHHSTTTTT! CRUMPPTTTT!
His words are cut off as the Frentensea explodes into an inferno of flame, flying metal, and chunks of meat that had once been sailors.