Elkan bent over the window, eyes shadowed. “It’s hard to be accurate enough at such a distance, especially with both ships moving. But you’re right. We should probably try.” His voice was bleak, as it always was when he talked about using the Mother’s power to hurt or kill instead of heal.
“Will she let us? Before they’re actually shooting at us? Doesn’t the Law say we can only kill in immediate self-defense?”
“There is that.” Elkan’s eyes went unfocused.
Josiah asked Sar the same question. The donkey was quiet for a moment, consulting whatever internal sense told him what the Mother did or did not allow him to do. Not before battle is joined. Thereafter, only when doing so prevents a specific attack that threatens at least one life.
“All right.” Elkan’s expression, both strained and relieved, told Josiah that Tobi had given him the same answer. Maybe he should be frustrated with the way the Mother limited them—closing into range where they could do direct damage to the ships themselves would put the Tevenarans in a lot more danger than if they could stand back and pick off the Ramunnans one by one. But people casually obliterating lives was the sort of thing that had caused the Mother to take away their ancestors’ ability to use her power unfettered. Little wonder the familiars wouldn’t allow it, even to make it easier for the wizards to protect Tevenar. Their enemies needed to have the chance to defend themselves as well, and to retreat when they realized they were outmatched.
Overhead the sails creaked and snapped as their ship came around to cut back on the opposite tack. It wouldn’t be much longer, now. He could tell by the way the strain eased that the spot where the window was focused kept getting closer. He scanned the rigging of the Armada ship and picked out a rope that was relatively slender but kept a whole section of sails in line with each other. As soon as their power would reach, he’d have Sar break it.
Impatient, he urged Sar to make an attempt. But even the donkey’s utmost effort had no effect; their thread of light didn’t get anywhere near the ship. Elkan didn’t comment, but he was being smarter, reserving his and Tobi’s strength until it could accomplish something useful.
Their ship completed its maneuver and the sails bellied out once more. They crossed the Ramunnan ship’s course, their side facing its bow. Josiah had Sar shift their window back a little so he had a good view of the whole vessel. He estimated they were about twelve hundred feet apart. They’d have to get within a thousand feet to use the Mother’s power.
A hatch near the bow of the ship opened. Some sort of metal tube poked through. Josiah studied it curiously. His first thought was that it was a really enormous window-glass, but there was no lens at the end, just a dark hole.
Flames and smoke burst from the mouth of the tube. A sharp crack like thunder hit Josiah’s ears, first from the window, a second later from all around. An instant after that their ship shuddered and he heard the crashing sound of tearing wood.
Shocked, he looked at Elkan. His master had a window open, zooming in to examine the damage. A gaping hole yawned in the side of the ship, framed by ragged splinters of wood. It was above the water line, but not very far. If they leaned over while maneuvering water might pour in.
“What in the Mother’s name was that?” Josiah blurted.
“Some sort of long range weapon,” Elkan answered grimly. “Longer range than we’ve got.” He let his window collapse and nodded at Josiah’s. “Let’s see it.”
Josiah jerked his attention back to the window over his hand. Sar moved the viewpoint through the other ship’s hull. A dozen men were hard at work around a long, thick metal tube. As he watched, one of them pushed a big iron ball into its mouth. He felt sick. “They’re getting ready to shoot at us again.”
Outside their shelter sailors and watchers were shouting. Elkan ignored them and concentrated on the window. “Watch what they’re doing. We’ll try to catch the next one.” He applied his eyes to his slit while Tobi pressed her face to hers.
Josiah clutched Sar’s mane tighter and studied the window. The Ramunnans had wheeled the tube forward so it stuck out the hatch again. One of them was doing something at the back of the tube. At Josiah’s request Sar zoomed the window in close enough for them to see him uncork a small flask and pour a bit of dark gray powder into a depression in the metal.
The man stepped back. Another man came forward with a smoldering length of cord. The first man, who seemed to be in charge, surveyed the position of the others, then nodded sharply. “Fire,” he ordered. The man with the cord touched it to the powder. A small burst of sparks and a puff of smoke erupted. An instant later the thunderclap sounded and the tube hurtled backward.
Light poured from Elkan’s hand and passed through the wall of their shelter. He grunted. The ship shuddered again, but Josiah thought it wasn’t as bad. The crashing sound was definitely not as loud.
“Too heavy and moving too fast to do much,” Elkan reported in a strained voice. “We deflected it a little. Warn us when the next one is about to come and maybe we can do more.”
Josiah had an awful thought. Sar, look at the other ships.
The donkey pulled the window away from the Ramunnans as they prepared for another shot and sent it zooming to the next ship, a few hundred feet back. He plunged it within the bow. A nearly identical scene met Josiah’s horrified eyes. The men clustered around the long metal tube waited in disciplined silence while one of their number peered through the hatch with a window-glass.
The window darted from ship to ship, confirming Josiah’s suspicion. He forced his voice out of a tight throat. “They’ve all got them.” Words failed him. They and all the rest of the Tevenaran fleet were going to be sunk before they had a chance to touch the Ramunnans.
Elkan nodded. His expression was bleak. “Vigorre warned us the Armada had a secret weapon. See if you can figure out how the things work. Find some vulnerability we can exploit once we get close enough.”
“We’re going closer?” Josiah’s voice cracked.
“I think Tobi and I can get better at deflecting their shots with practice. It’s a matter of pushing them aside, not stopping them completely the way we can do with arrows. The wizards in the other ships will catch on quickly. They’re probably watching and listening to us right now.” He raised his voice. “Keep advancing! Strike as soon as you come within range.”
Josiah focused on the window again, dimly aware that Elkan was repeating his order to keep sailing forward to a panicked sailor at the door. Sar moved the viewpoint to where they could watch as the lead ship reloaded and fired again. This time he saw one of the Ramunnans place a large bag in the mouth of the tube and watched as they rammed it in. It was followed by a wad of rags and then the massive ball.
Whatever’s in that bag must explode and shove the ball out. There was something familiar about the idea, but he couldn’t stop to chase the association. It’s got to be awfully strong to make it fly so fast and so far. He winced as the weapon discharged again.
He waited for the ball’s impact, but it didn’t come. “Got that one,” Elkan said with satisfaction.
Josiah grinned but kept watching the window. The man who’d loaded the last bag got a new one from a lidded metal bucket sitting well back from where sparks showered every time the weapon fired. The bucket was only big enough to hold a dozen bags, but Josiah doubted the threat would end when it was empty.
Shot after shot blasted from the weapon, the Ramunnans reloading and firing in a smooth, well-practiced rhythm. Following far too many of them shudders rocked the ship.
A man emerged from a door and deposited a full bucket beside the nearly empty one. He grabbed the first bucket as soon as the last bag was taken and ducked back through the door.
Sar sent the window after him. The man stopped and locked the door, then carried the bucket along a long dim corridor that led all the way to the rear of the ship. He unlocked three locks and entered a small room filled with barrels. It was lit by a single lantern hanging from t
he middle of the ceiling, its openings so small it emitted barely any light.
Another man stood at a workbench, methodically preparing bags and piling them into buckets. The man they’d been following greeted his comrade briefly, exchanged the empty bucket for a full one, and departed for the bow. Sar kept the window fixed on the workbench.
As the man poured scoopfuls of dark gray powder onto a square of cloth, Josiah finally remembered where he’d seen something like it. Of course. Master Noadiah’s blasting powder. It had looked much the same, and it, too, had exploded with deadly force.
The man tied the bundle closed and deposited it carefully in the bucket. As he went to work on the next, Josiah had Sar widen the window’s focus and surveyed the room. He gulped. If all those barrels were full of powder, the Ramunnans could keep shooting at them for weeks.
Another boom, another shudder. Elkan cursed. “They’re too fast.”
Two more thunderclaps followed, much too quickly for the Ramunnans to have reloaded. With a sinking heart, Josiah realized more of the Tevenaran ships had come within the weapons’ range.
How long would it be before the Mother’s power could reach the Ramunnan ship? And what was small and light enough for them to move at the edge of their range, yet powerful enough to disable the weapon? The huge tube was invulnerable to anything they could do; it would take two wizards to budge it even up close. Maybe they could shove the hatch closed, or rip open the bags of powder, or snuff the smoldering cord, or—
With a lurch in his stomach he realized the answer. Sar, it’s only a matter of time before everyone on this ship dies. Any shot from that weapon could do it—one hit below the waterline and we sink. We’re too far from shore to swim, even if the ship doesn’t pull us down with it. Am I right, or am I missing something?
Sar considered for a moment before answering. I agree with your assessment.
So the Mother will let us do whatever we need to, even kill them all, to stop them firing the weapon.
The mental silence was longer this time. Yes.
All right. Josiah couldn’t let himself think about what he was going to do. He was saving their lives. That was all that mattered.
At his request Sar returned the window to the powder room and focused on the lantern that swung from a hook in the ceiling. It burned some sort of oil, Josiah saw on closer examination. A metal fitting held a wick suspended with one end in a metal cup full of fuel.
Try to reach it. Energy drained from his muscles as Sar sent a thread of gold light spooling out. Josiah took his eyes away from the window to peer out his slit. He couldn’t make out the slender beam of light against the sunlit sea, even though he knew where to look. Good. The Ramunnans wouldn’t be able to, either.
Within the window, the tip of the thread pierced the wall of the powder room and slid along the ceiling. The busily laboring Ramunnan never looked up from his work. Sar sent the light of the Mother’s power to surround the lantern with a soft gold glow. It blended with the lantern’s own light so that it was almost imperceptible.
Josiah gulped. His familiar would do it, but only at Josiah’s command. The choice, as always, was his.
Now.
Sar floated the lantern off its hook. At this distance it felt as if they were lifting a boulder. The lantern swooped across the room and crashed into the ranks of barrels.
For a moment Josiah feared they’d failed, but then flames licked up from the splashed oil, and the wood of one barrel began to smoke. The Ramunnan whirled with a frantic curse and snatched a pail of water from below the workbench, but he was too late.
White light and a deafening boom blasted from the window. Sar snapped it closed. Josiah lurched to look out the slit.
The whole rear half of the Ramunnan ship burst. Fire flashed. Smoke swelled into an enormous cloud. Debris rained into the water for hundreds of feet around. What remained of the front half tipped over and sank into the ocean, flames devouring everything above the waterline. The portion of the bow that held the massive weapon slid beneath the waves and vanished.
A cheer went up from the sailors and watchers on the deck of their ship. Josiah stared at the results of what he’d done. He hadn’t expected—
A hand gripped his shoulder. Josiah turned to meet Elkan’s gaze. The shock and horror in his master’s eyes matched his own, and Elkan’s voice was strained, but his words were forceful. “Good work, Josiah.”
“But I—I—” His mind wouldn’t form words properly.
“You saved the people on this ship. We weren’t having much luck deflecting shots.” He studied Josiah closely before releasing him and looking out the slit. “There are bodies in the water. Some of them are moving. Come on.” He turned and pushed out the door of their shelter.
It looked like arrows wouldn’t be an issue—they’d never make it in range of a bow—and the thin wood of the shed would be no protection against the hurtling balls. Josiah followed him onto the deck.
They stood side by side at the rail, Sar and Tobi on either side, and lifted every living Ramunnan they could find onto the deck. They cleared water from their lungs, stopped any life-threatening bleeding, removed the swords from their belts, and shoved them to the side to make room for more. They rescued several dozen before Josiah’s smoke-smarting eyes couldn’t locate any more drifting human forms.
He sagged against Sar and tried to get a sense of the battle. Several Tevenaran ships had moved past them and were taking the brunt of the assault. One was listing hard to the side, sinking slowly but inexorably. Another took a direct hit on its mast as Josiah watched. Its sails collapsed across its deck and trailed in the water, leaving it helpless to maneuver away from the advancing enemy.
With a roar another Ramunnan ship blew up. Elkan nodded in grim satisfaction. “One of the others copied your trick.”
“Yeah.” Josiah couldn’t feel pleased. There was an empty place where his emotions ought to be. He pointed to the sinking Tevenaran ship. “We should help them.”
“Yes.” Elkan sent a sailor to ask the captain to move them closer. Soon they were once more fishing bodies from the water, enemies and allies both. Josiah threw himself into the work. As long as he was busy he didn’t have to think.
He was stepping past some of the Ramunnans they’d rescued to reach a coughing Tevenaran sailor when his foot slipped and he sprawled to the deck. Blood was everywhere. One of the Ramunnans lay with his hand around the hilt of a small knife buried in his throat.
Even as he grabbed Sar and the donkey sent gold light splashing over the still form, he knew it was useless. Why? We weren’t going to hurt him.
I don’t know.
Where did he get the knife?
Sar nosed the man’s other hand. His sleeve was pushed up to reveal a sheath strapped to his forearm. There.
Smash it. Josiah scrambled to his feet and lurched over to examine the other Ramunnan captives. Most of them huddled together, watching with bitter defiance, but two more were dead by their own hands.
“You don’t have to do this,” he told the living Ramunnans in their own language. “We’re not going to torture you like the Matriarch would. We’re just going to keep you prisoner so you can’t fight us.”
One of the captives gave him a look of withering pity. “They were Secrets officers. It was their duty.”
“Is that why they wear the daggers?”
None of them deigned to answer.
Josiah’s feet dragged as he made his way to the bow to find Elkan. He was too tired to do anything but blurt a warning. “Some of them have daggers on their left wrists. They’ll kill themselves if they get the chance.”
Elkan shot him a startled glance, taking in the blood smeared liberally on his clothes and hands, but he only nodded. “Let’s check these.”
They found five of the daggers and confiscated them. The Ramunnans stared at them with cold, hate-filled eyes. Josiah moved to the rail to help Elkan pull more survivors aboard, but as soon as his back was turned Sar sho
ved against him and he felt energy pouring into the donkey. He whirled to find one of the Ramunnans with a loop of rope tight around his neck, the end tied to the rail, his face blue. Sar yanked the rope away and pushed blood into the man’s brain.
They’d reached him in time; his face flushed pink and he started to thrash. Josiah shoved damp curls out of his eyes. “We can’t leave them alone.”
Elkan came to stand beside him. “Put them in the shelter. There’s nothing in there they can use. One of the watchers can keep an eye on them.”
“They’re all helping repair the damage to the hull.”
“Tie them up, then.” Elkan ran a weary hand through his hair and beckoned a sailor to help them.
When all the Ramunnans who’d borne wrist daggers were firmly bound and shut into the shelter, the two of them went back to the bow and surveyed the battle. The Armada had withdrawn a little way, but their weapons kept booming. Three more Tevenaran ships were badly damaged.
Elkan’s jaw tightened as he scanned the battle. “They’ve figured out our range. They’re staying out of reach of the Mother’s power, but close enough to hit us with their weapons. Their aim won’t be as good from so far, but eventually they’ll pick us off ship by ship. And we can’t touch them.”
“Move out of their range?”
“They’ll follow us.” Elkan kept searching the two fleets as if there must be something he’d missed, but Josiah couldn’t think of anything that would even the odds. The greater range of the Ramunnan weapons was too strong an advantage.
Finally Elkan shook his head. “A few ships will have to keep them here while the rest retreat. If we can hold them off until the evacuation is finished, at least the people who fled will have a chance. Maybe the Ramunnans won’t bother to follow them after they take Elathir. The watchers and volunteers who stayed behind can keep them busy for a long time with wizards’ help. They’ll have to hunt us down from building to building.”
Josiah could picture what he was describing, and he didn’t like it. “But there’s no way we could win. Only delay losing.”
The Wizards' War Page 4
