Empire Of Blood rb-23

by Джеффри Лорд

  As Kukon approached the sailing ship, Blade saw that the enemy’s decks were surprisingly empty. A little cluster of men stood with muskets and bows on the foc’sle. Another cluster stood on the stern castle. The deck amidships was empty except for a few half-naked sailors standing by with axes to cut loose fallen masts and rigging.

  «She must have just enough men aboard to man her guns,» said the commandant.

  «That’s their problem,» said Blade cheerfully. «We’ll swing around her bow and run along her port side, grapple, and board. If she’s that short-handed, this should be easier than I expected.»

  The commandant seemed to quiver all over at Blade’s words, and his eyes widened. Realization was striking him that his first moment of hand-to-hand combat was fast approaching.

  Kukon swept onward. Her guns were firing steadily, hammering away at the enemy’s foc’sle. Blade saw a swirl in the little cluster of figures there as a shot ploughed through it. Several did not rise. Splintered wood showed white in a dozen places around the enemy’s bow.

  Then Kukon was rounding the enemy and swinging back to run alongside. Without waiting for orders, the men of the boarding party sprang to their feet and ran to the port gangway. Some of them swung ropes and grappling hooks in their hands.

  The port rowers heaved their oars back in through the ports and sprang up from the benches. Kukon ran alongside the enemy with a great squealing and grinding and bumping of wood. Ropes hissed through the air and bright steel hooks dropped over the enemy’s bulwarks. Blade opened his mouth and filled his lungs to roar out, «Boarders away!»

  Then there was a flurry of movement among the cluster of figures on the enemy’s foc’sle. A knotted rope sailed over the bulwarks and came snaking down to land on Kukon’s deck between Blade and the commandant.

  At the same time there was a tremendous clatter as hatches and gratings flew open all along the enemy’s deck amidships. The gunports on the ship’s side dropped open with rattles and bangs. Blade saw helmeted heads thrusting forward from the gloom below decks, looking out past the muzzles of the guns. He recognized the helmets and armor of the Imperial Corps of Eunuchs.

  Then the commandant whirled, his sword leaping from its scabbard. He slashed down at Blade so quickly and so hard that only Blade’s miraculously fast reflexes kept his head on his shoulders. He ducked, went down, rolled, and sprang up again.

  The commandant was just as fast. He gripped the knotted rope and shouted. Above, the men on the enemy’s foc’sle heaved. The rope tightened, and the commandant flew straight up into the air as if he’d been shot out of a circus cannon.

  Then the eunuchs at the gunports pushed forward, raising muskets. At the same time dozens more eunuchs with both crossbows and muskets sprouted from the enemy ship’s bulwarks. All the muskets and bows seemed to go off at once with one tremendous, ringing crash. Bolts and balls whizzed past Blade, struck the deck, clanged off the gun barrels, drove into human flesh. Screams of agony and the smell of blood and powder surrounded him.

  From forward one of the enemy’s guns fired at pointblank range. Its ball smashed squarely into the muzzle of the heaviest gun on Kukon’s bow. The gun flew backward off its carriage and right off the foc’sle, to smash down onto the deck below.

  It also smashed down squarely on top of Luun. The man had time and breath to let out one blood-freezing scream of agony and terror as the tons of bronze crushed him into the deck. Then there was silence, soon broken by the sound of more muskets and crossbows going off.

  Prince Durouman was still on his feet, although blood was streaming down his face and both helmet and breastplate were dented. He waved his sword, and his guards crowded around him, raising their muskets.

  «Fire!» he roared. More than twenty muskets crashed out in a single volley, and as many helmeted heads vanished from along the enemy’s bulwarks. Blade saw one eunuch throw up his arms and fall backward, a great hole gaping squarely in the middle of his forehead. He wouldn’t have believed such shooting possible with matchlock muskets.

  But for every eunuch shot down by the prince’s guards, two more appeared. Their fire grew steadily. In another minute Blade knew that the only thing left for Kukon was to get clear, if she still could.

  «All rowers man your benches!» he thundered, in a voice that carried over the swelling noise of the battle. «Port side rowers, push us off. Then everyone to ramming stroke!»

  Oars clattered out through the ports and a gap of water began to open between Kukon and the Imperial ship. Some of the rowers on the starboard side continued to stand, firing muskets and bows, until they saw their comrades to port beginning their stroke. Then all the rowers went furiously to work. Kukon slid rapidly along the enemy’s side and passed her stern.

  «Why, Blade?» screamed Prince Durouman. «Why? We can take her and kill that traitor. We can!»

  «We can’t!» shouted Blade. «We haven’t a chance. She’s got two hundred of the Corps of Eunuchs on board besides her regular crew. Maybe more. We’d lose every man aboard Kukon trying to board against the eunuchs!»

  «No!» the prince cried.

  «Yes,» said Blade more quietly. «The commandant led us into a trap. There’s nothing more we can do about it except get clear if we can.»

  The prince stared at Blade, his eyes wild and red, his sword shaking in his hand. He snatched off his helmet and threw it down on the deck with a clang. Then he crumpled. He lurched and would have fallen to the deck if he hadn’t been able to brace himself against the breech of a gun.

  Blade had no more time to spare for Prince Durouman. He leaped off the foc’sle onto the main deck and ran aft. Reaching the stern, he ordered the gunners there to elevate their pieces and open fire on the enemy. They obeyed with a will. They hadn’t been able to take any part in the battle until now, and most of them had comrades to avenge.

  Kukon’s stern guns kept up a steady fire until the two ships were out of range. Blade kept the rowers at the ramming stroke for another few miles, then let them slow down to the fast cruise stroke. It was not until the enemy ship was out of sight even from the masthead that he let the rowers leave their benches. Kukon’s sails filled, and she swung away toward the north once more.

  Then at last there was time to check the damage and casualties. Except for the dismounted bow gun, there was little serious damage. There were half a dozen shot holes, none of them below or even near the water line. That was all. Blade promptly set men to work with tackles and levers to remount the gun.

  Casualties were another matter. Beside Luun, nearly thirty men had been killed and more than fifty wounded. Kukon’s scuppers were running with blood, and wounded men lay groaning and screaming along every gangway.

  Most of the casualties were among the boarding party rather than among the rowers. Only fifteen of Prince Durouman’s guards were still on their feet, and some of those were wounded. The prince himself had been grazed by three balls.

  The prince sighed with more than the pain of his wounds when Blade reported the casualties. «It was all my fault for listening to that-!» Words failed him and his shoulders slumped again. He looked as if he wanted to jump over the side and let his armor carry him down into the depths, into an oblivion where he could forget the men his error had killed.

  «Cheer up,» said Blade. He had long ago learned that there was no point in lamenting mistakes already committed-only in learning from them. «We’ve still got a seaworthy ship under us and a crew that can row and fight her behind us. We can approach the pirates just about as well as we could have anyway.»

  «The pirates, yes,» said the prince. «But what will the commandant say to Kul-Nam? What will that monster do? How much does the commandant know?»

  «He knows most of what we’ve planned,» said Blade reluctantly. «He also knows that you’re making this move on your own, that the Five Kingdoms have nothing to do with it. So they may not be attacked.»

  «You’re assuming that Kul-Nam is sane,» said the prince bitterly. «You
know perfectly well that he isn’t.»

  «Not sane, perhaps,» said Blade. «But he probably still has enough common military sense not to attack the Five Kingdoms for something they haven’t done.»

  «I hope so,» said the prince. «Does he know about Princess Tarassa’s support of us?»

  «If he doesn’t know it for certain, I’m sure he can guess it. Why?»

  «Kul-Nam might not attack the coasts of the Five Kingdoms. But he might attack Parine if he thinks Tarassa has aided his enemies.»

  Blade laughed. «Let him. Parine is about the toughest proposition he could tackle. If he does try there, he’s likely to get his fleet and army well mangled, enrage the Five Kingdoms, and have little to show for it.»

  «I hope you’re right,» said Prince Durouman. It was growing chilly as the sun sank toward the western horizon. The two men pulled their cloaks about them and went aft toward their cabins.

  Chapter 21

  The next morning Kukon hove to and buried her dead, slipping them over the side sewn up in hammocks with a cannonball at their feet. There was hardly enough of Luun to bury properly. Then the galley’s sails rose again and she headed on toward the north and whatever awaited her there.

  Blade ordered the lookouts doubled and all the cannon and muskets kept loaded at all times. If the commandant’s word reached Kul-Nam or his admirals swiftly enough, a galley squadron might set out after Kukon. Blade was determined to give such a squadron no easy prize, and every man aboard Kukon agreed with him.

  Neither Blade nor Prince Durouman had any more doubts about the crew’s willingness to fight side by side with the pirates. For a chance to fight Kul-Nam’s soldiers the crew would gladly have signed an alliance with demons.

  They made their landfall in the Strait of Nongai toward evening of the eighth day after the battle. Then they began their approach to the mountainous island where the pirates kept a lookout station, flying the truce flag at both mastheads.

  They were also ready for a pitched battle. Blade was willing to believe that the pirates would not fire on a truce flag. He was not willing to risk Kukon and her men in case he turned out to be wrong. The pirates were frightened men now, and frightened men did not always behave as they normally would.

  Kukon anchored four miles offshore, beyond gun range, and waited for any signal that might come from the land. None came. The sun sank, and Blade set night stations. Half the men would sleep; the other half would remain awake and alert. The guns would remain loaded, the oars trailing, the sails bent to the yards. No one would creep out of the darkness to surprise Kukon without being detected, or attack without getting a warm reception.

  They spent that night, the next day, and all of the next night anchored and alert. The strain began to tell on Prince Durouman.

  «What are they waiting for?» he burst out. «For us to die of old age and the worms to eat holes in Kukon’s bottom so they won’t have to fight us?»

  Blade laughed. «I doubt it. I suspect they’re trying to decide what we are. That will take them a while. Then it will take them another while to decide what to do about us. Then we will see them coming out to do it, whatever it is.»

  The waiting ended the next morning. The lookouts reported four pirate galleys and what looked like a fishing boat heading slowly toward Kukon from the west. It was an hour before they were hull-up from the deck. Eventually the four galleys rested on their oars just outside gunshot range while the fishing boat swung in toward Kukon. Blade ordered the anchor weighed and made ready to receive whatever message the pirates wanted to send.

  As the fishing boat came within hailing distance, a gray-bearded man in a faded red tunic stood up in her bow. «Ahoy, the Imperial galley!»

  Blade cupped his hands and shouted back, «Ahoy, the boat! We are no Imperial galley. We are the galley Kukon, in the personal service of Prince Durouman of Nullar and under the command of Prince Blade of England. We bear a message for those who guide the destinies of the Free Brothers of Nongai.» Like most pirates Blade had seen, the pirates of Nongai had given themselves a dramatic and not particularly accurate name.

  The man seemed to frown and hesitate, then shouted back, «What is that message?»

  «We would bear it privately to the captains and to the Seven Brothers.» The seven senior captains of the pirates formed an unofficial but effective ruling council, with a dramatic name of its own.

  There was silence in the other boat. Prince Durouman fidgeted nervously. The offer of alliance was not something to be shouted out across thirty yards of water, where everyone might hear it. On the other hand, being too closemouthed might in the next minute send the battle signals soaring up to the mastheads of the four galleys. Blade could only hope he’d struck the right balance.

  The silence went on for what seemed like half an hour, but could not have been more than a couple of minutes. Then the man gestured to someone in the stern of the fishing boat. Two men stood up, waving a green flag on the end of a long pole. Blade saw the oars of the four galleys begin to move. Then the red-clad pirate hailed them again.

  «We judge it fit that you come before the Seven Brothers, for you have come to us under a truce flag. Remain where you are. Our four galleys will form a square around you. You will be given a course to follow. Remain within that square and on that course, or it shall be your death.»

  The man sat down and four sailors leaped into action. The boat’s sail filled again and she came about, heading away from Kukon. Beyond the boat, the galleys were now moving steadily closer.

  Blade let out breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. «So far so good. They seem to be willing to believe we’ve got a message and willing to let us bring it before their ruling council.» He turned and hailed Dzhai, who was standing on the foc’sle. «Captain Dzhai! Call all rowers to their benches and prepare to get underway.»

  For two days Kukon and her escorts moved west against a fluky wind that kept the rowers in all five ships at the oars most of the time.

  On the third morning the five galleys entered a broad river mouth where some thirty black-hulled galleys were already anchored. On the shore rose a roughly built log house, with the flag of the Seven Brothers-seven gold rays on a green field-floating above it.

  Beyond the house in one direction were the rough lean-tos and huts of the mainland tribesmen. In the other direction was a sprawling mass of tents, tethered horses, and cooking fires sending up spirals of smoke. The Steppemen had indeed come in force. Prince Durouman counted the pirate galleys and frowned.

  «Is that all they have left after the battle against Sukar’s squadron? If they are so weak, can they be of any use to us? If-«

  «I doubt that is all their strength,» said Blade. This was the first time he’d interrupted Prince Durouman, and he realized this might give offense. Yet the prince’s constant worrying out loud was beginning to get on Blade’s nerves. The prince was brave and daring and intelligent, but he also seemed exceedingly high-strung. Perhaps too high-strung to make an effective leader.

  Blade counted the tents and horses in the camp of the Steppemen. That led to another unpleasant thought. The Steppemen had come with at least three thousand men, perhaps four thousand. That was not just an embassy. That was an army-an army that could start a war or launch an invasion on a moment’s notice.

  Blade did not in the least like having so many armed warriors of a people he was about to turn into enemies so close at hand. The more he thought about it, the less he liked it. He also realized that there was nothing he could do about it, except perhaps not mention it to Prince Durouman. The man was already nervous enough.

  Those aboard Kukon had time to eat breakfast before anything happened. Then a flat-bottomed barge came out from shore toward the galley. In the stern sat the same man in the red tunic who had spoken to them three days ago. He now wore a leather cuirass and a high-crested steel helmet and carried a short, curved sword. The other men in the boat were also armed and armored.

  «They don’t seem
to trust us,» said Prince Durouman. «Or perhaps it’s the Steppemen they don’t trust. With three thousand of them two miles away, I wouldn’t sleep easily more than a foot from my sword.»

  So Prince Durouman had made his own count of the Steppemen-yet did not seem so worried that he was unable to make a light-hearted remark about it. That was good. The better the prince kept his head, the better would be the impression he made on the Seven Brothers.

  The barge bumped alongside. The man scrambled forward from the stern and sprang lightly up Kukon’s side onto the foc’sle. Blade, Prince Durouman, and Dzhai met him there, all dressed in their best clothes, weapons, and armor.

  «Greetings,» said the man. «I am Emass, Speaker for the Seven Brothers.»

  «Greetings, Emass,» said Blade. He introduced the other two men. Wine was brought, and all four men solemnly drank a cup and ate bread and salt fish.

  «It is our wish to bring our message before the Seven Brothers,» said Blade when they’d finished. «Is it the wish of the Seven Brothers to hear us?»

  «It is,» said Emass. «It is also their wish that I bring you before them now.»

  Blade and Prince Durouman exchanged looks, then both nodded in unison. Blade turned to Dzhai. «Captain Dzhai, Kukon is in your charge. Let nothing happen that is unworthy of all she has done before.» There was no harm in reminding the pirates that this galley and these same men had fought furiously against them before and could do so again if necessary. It might help the pirates keep their tempers enough to remember their honor and the truce.

  Dzhai nodded and raised his good arm in a salute. «It shall be done, Prince Blade.»

  Blade and Durouman turned and followed Emass down into the barge.