Chapter Nine: Beat to Quarters
The mist had started rolling in around the late morning. The faint scent of rain lingered on the wind; nature's little way of foreshadowing weather to come. However, if there was to be a storm, it was still a good way off. The fog was very thin at the moment, though it was bound to thicken outside of the harbor.
"Steady, Mister Barret!" Captain Harcourt hollered down to the helmsman. The wind had picked up as the Silver Arrow plunged into the strait that ran between the Twin Mountains, which connected the Kātayō Harbor with the ocean beyond. The wind was usually strong in the strait during the late morning and early afternoon, and it certainly didn't disappoint today. The fog cleared a tad as the strait winds pushed it out of the way, but the crew of the Arrow knew that this respite was only temporary.
Lord Fernando stood on the poop deck alongside the Centralian Captain, gripping the rail and squinting against the wind and spray. The strait's mouth was barely a mile distant, and the Arrow was making good time. It would clear the narrow waterway in mere minutes.
After the escape from the palace, Fernando had been expecting some kind of pursuit from the Imperial Navy, but there had been none. Captain Harcourt, on the contrary, had expected nothing less.
"All the Ainu have in this harbor are a handful of junks," the Captain had explained to the Praetor. "Even if they mounted a pursuit, they would not have a Zamorackian's chance on Entrana of catching up to us. And even if they did…we would still outgun them. However, if the Ainu are remotely intelligent—and they are—they will have more powerful vessels beyond the harbor waters."
The Captain was right, of course. If the Ainu were going to try and stop the Arrow, they would try to do so outside of the harbor, where their navy always kept an active patrol.
"Oi!" the cry came from the crow's nest, all the way up at the top of the mainmast. Willis, a thirteen or fourteen-year-old midshipman under Harcourt's command, was the one on watch, and he was pointing out ahead of the ship. "Sails ahead, three points off the starboard bow!"
Captain Harcourt took out his spyglass and extended it, bringing the small lens up to his eye. After observing the shapes on the horizon, Harcourt's only outward reaction to what he saw was a short click of the tongue.
"Orders, sir?" Naevius, the first officer, drew up alongside the Captain and the Praetor.
Harcourt gave the first officer a slight nod. "Beat to quarters," he said.
"Aye, Captain," Naevius gave a nod in reply, before cupping his hand to his mouth and roaring, "Beat to quarters!" in the thundering voice that was the trademark of all first mates, military and non-military.
The bell was tolled five rapid times and a resounding drumbeat started to roll throughout the man-of-war.
Immediately, activity on the Arrow turned to a quasi-chaotic frenzy. It wasn't really chaotic, though; it was actually highly organized. All over the man-of-war, ratings and officers dropped and stowed whatever they had been doing and made their way through the crowds to their battle stations. Gun crews either started loading the deck cannons or started to funnel down to the gun decks below. Damage control parties reported to their various stations, and the surgeon made his way down to the infirmary.
The complement of marines on board the Arrow, under the command of Lieutenant Althos, also reported to their stations, joined by Cicero, the ship's Paladin. The master-at-arms was distributing spears and cutlasses to sailors who weren't part of a gun crew. If the Silver Arrow ended up getting boarded, the marines would be doing the bulk of the actual fighting; but it would be foolish to leave the sailors unarmed.
Still...Lord Fernando wouldn't want to see Ainu samurai within a kilometer of this ship—excluding, of course, the rogue warriors who had liberated him from the palace.
"May I have a look, Captain?" Lord Fernando gestured at the spyglass.
"By all means," Captain Harcourt handed the Praetor the instrument. He then pointed in the direction which Fernando should look. "Three points off the starboard bow."
Fernando peered through the spyglass and quickly spotted roughly a dozen Ainu frigates, easily identifiable by their fin-shaped sails and their brilliant standards. They were formed up in a rough wedge shape and were gliding through the water with admirable grace. Fernando could barely make out the forms of their sailors prepping their vessels for battle. As the Praetor watched, they began to fan out in a large semi-circle, closing in on the entrance to the strait.
The Praetor said nothing; his mouth simply formed a silent oh.
"I hope you have your sea legs on," Harcourt chuckled. The Captain then turned around and addressed Naevius. "You have the gunnery, Commander," Harcourt said to his first officer.
"Sir," the Commander clasped a fist to his heart in a salute and made for the hatches, ducking belowdecks.
"How are you going to fight off a dozen Ainu frigates?" Lord Fernando asked the Captain as he lowered the spyglass, pushing it back into its compact position.
"Hopefully it will not come to that," Captain Harcourt replied, taking back his spyglass and sliding it into his belt. "If you still wish to pursue your goal of securing the help of the Ainu against Zamorak's hordes…well, I do not believe destroying their vessels is the greatest gesture of diplomacy."
"To hell with diplomacy," the Praetor admonished. "You have not laid eyes on the Sun Emperor, as I have…he is beyond diplomacy. The only way we're getting the help of the Ainu is by fighting for it."
"If you say so…"
"I'm afraid your friend is right," a heavily Ainu-accented voice spoke up from behind. Lord Fernando did not need to turn around to know who it was. Niten, the leader of the rogue samurai who had liberated him from the Sun Emperor's palace, leaned against the rail on the other side of the Centralian Praetor. "The Sun Emperor's mind is overthrown. If it comes to bloodshed, we must not hesitate."
Captain Harcourt gave a shrug. "Either way, I would still rather avoid a fight; if not for diplomatic reasons, then for strategic ones. We are one ship, and they are a dozen, and to make matters even worse; most of them have the weather gauge."
"The what?" Lord Fernando asked, unfamiliar with the nautical term.
"Weather gauge," Harcourt repeated. "The tactical advantage with the wind. Not that they need it; their numbers alone would be enough to crush us. But I am not planning on engaging them." The Captain gave a nod towards the west, beyond the line of enemy ships.
The mist the Silver Arrow was currently in wasn't all that thick, but it was part of a larger fog back which was being blown inland by the westerly wind. As such, there was a much thicker fog bank behind the Ainu ships, one that Fernando couldn't see through.
The Praetor suddenly saw what Harcourt wanted to do. If the Silver Arrow engaged the Imperial Navy ships, she would be destroyed by their numbers. If Harcourt tried to flee up or down the coast, the Ainu would be able to trail the Arrow and eventually overtake her.
However, if Harcourt was able to put the Arrow straight into that fog bank…
Captain Harcourt deserted his spot on the poop deck and, with Lord Fernando and Niten hot on his heels, descended the short flight of steps to the main deck, calling out, "Hard a'larboard, Mister Barret!" as he strode past the helm platform. "Put us right through that gap!"
"Hard a'larboard, aye sir!" the helmsman replied, pulling the wheel to the left.
The Captain made his way all the way up to the prow of the Arrow, where he climbed up and stood upon the rail, steadying himself by grabbing hold of one of the lines that ran from the foremast to the prow. He watched the rapidly-approaching Ainu ships, his gaze as unwavering as that of Honoria, the wooden sculpture of a beautiful woman that was the man-of-war's figurehead.
Gradually, Lord Fernando was able to see what Harcourt was aiming for—the space in between two isolated Ainu frigates at the southern end of the semi-circle. There was no way to reach the fog bank without first getting through the wide semi-circle of Ainu vessels, so Captain Harcourt was planning on putting the Silver Arrow through two of the most isolated Ainu ships. A Centralian man-of-war would better withstand a broadside from an Ainu frigate as opposed to one of the heavier frigates that were in the semi-circle. By the time the heavier ships came around, the Arrow would be past them. Ideally.
"Give us all the wind you can, Cicero!" Captain Harcourt hollered across the deck to the ship's Paladin.
"I'm doing the best I can!" Cicero shouted back. "Diverting the wind isn't exactly as easy as hauling a rope!" Even as he spoke, the mage raised both his arms into the air and closed his eyes, deep in concentration. The mainsails began to bulge outward as they cupped the strengthened wind.
Normally, mages could not create sustained wind on such a scale for very long without succumbing to the strain of overstepping the limits of their energy. However, Cicero was not creating new wind; he was simply manipulating the already existing wind and diverting it into a more direct stream right into the Arrow's sails. This task required much les energy, and so could be sustained over a much longer period of time.
Lord Fernando could feel the gradual acceleration of the Silver Arrow and had to grab one of the rails to keep from losing his footing. He observed the sailors with varying levels of amazement at how they could scurry about a heaving ship's deck without even stumbling every once in a while.
The outlying Ainu ships by now had seen what Captain Harcourt was trying to do and were moving to intercept, but even a man as inexperienced on the seas as Lord Fernando or Niten could see that they would not be able to make it in time. If anything was going to stop the Arrow, it would be the combined efforts of those two Ainu frigates, and perhaps the next frigate over if it could move fast enough.
"Larboard batteries, adjust fifteen degrees seaward! Wait for my order to fire!" Captain Harcourt shouted as the Arrow plunged towards the gap between the two Ainu ships. The Captain held his line with a bone-white grip, moving with the rocking of the man-of-war so as to not lose his footing on the rail. His heart had begun to speed up and his stomach started to tingle with that familiar pre-battle reservation. "Ease up a bit on that wind, Cicero!"
Harcourt's orders were relayed all throughout the top-deck and the gun deck below. The gun crews manning cannons that were on the larboard side of the Arrow obeyed the Captain and angled their guns down towards the sea.
"May I ask why you point weapons towards the water?" Niten asked, struggling a tad bit with his Commonspeak. "What does this accomplish."
"You're a ground fighter, good samurai," Harcourt grinned at the rogue Ainu warrior. "You fight with your armor and sword. We men of the sea fight with the wind! Watch and learn!"
As the Arrow passed the prows of the two Ainu frigates, Harcourt ordered the crew to trim sail, and then told Barret to take the Arrow in a larboard arc. This involved turning towards the Ainu frigate to the left of the Arrow, and then leveling out by gradually turning back to a straight course.
Doing so in these circumstances also meant turning against the wind, but the repositioned sails caught the wind more directly. With the wind hitting the Silver Arrow right on her larboard, it caused her to keel to the right, which lifted the larboard side of the man-of-war higher into the air.
The downward adjustments the larboard gun crews had made to the cannons compensated for this shift in balance. Now that the Arrow was tilting right, the down-angled starboard cannons were now more or less on a straight trajectory.
The Ainu frigate on the left was now at an extreme disadvantage; not only did it no longer have a straight broadside—the Arrow was not sliding past it; she was angled towards it—but the Ainu frigate's cannons, which had been aimed at the Arrow's deck, were now pointing at the man-of-war's reinforced lower hull.
The arc also put the Arrow temporarily out of close range from the second Ainu frigate, as she was moving away from it. If that vessel opened fire, the effect its shots had would be greatly reduced by the distance.
The Ainu frigate which the Arrow was heading towards opened fire, sending a volley of cannon-shot screaming towards the Silver Arrow. Captain Harcourt couldn't help but wince as he felt the impacts. Most of the shots impacted the reinforced lower hull, and only one hit actually penetrated. Even now, damage control parties would no doubt be scurrying to plug the hole before too much water poured in.
Cannons, of course, were not the most accurate weapons. Some of the Ainu volley hit the Arrow's deck. Pieces of the rail were splintered and blown away. Several lines snapped and the mizzenmast was actually grazed by one of the flying iron balls. Several crewmen were lying on the deck, bleeding from the places where they had been hit with wooden splinters. That was the number one killer during naval combat; the shrapnel from a cannonburst—not the cannonshot itself.
However, now was not the time to worry about such matters. By now, the Arrow had reached the apex of its arc, coming up tight against the Ainu frigate—perfect for a textbook broadside.
"Larboard batteries fire!" Captain Harcourt howled. The officers on deck relayed the command with equally loud fervor. Within three seconds, the man-of-war shook and was rocked even further to starboard as her entire larboard side exploded with flame.
Cannonshot roared over the water and slammed the Ainu frigate. The six and twelve-pounder deck guns opened fire as well. The smell of ignited gunpowder permeated through the air, contesting with the salty sea spray. The cloud of smoke from the broadside rose into the air, drifting back and mingling with the mist as the Arrow kept plowing forward.
The Ainu frigate got slammed hard. The majority of its starboard gunnery had been wiped out. Harcourt was sure that the broadside had dealt a good amount of damage to the frigate's internal structure as well. While it wouldn't sink from the beating it had taken, its seafaring days were over until it got repaired.
And that left the other Ainu frigate, which was starting to adjust course to catch the Arrow's stern as it passed by. If this frigate was able to rake the Silver Arrow, most of its cannonshot would hit the top-deck and completely shred the masts. However, Harcourt was not going to give them the chance to attack. The wind was still more or less on his side, and he intended to use it.
The Captain jumped down from his perch on the rail and made his way back up the length of the man-of-war towards the steering platform. "Mister Barret!" he called out to the helmsman. "Bring us around ninety degrees to starboard!"
As Barret turned the helm to the right, the deck crews moved the sails back into their original positions. Cicero manipulated the wind as best he could, but it was difficult to do during a tack, which was essentially what the Silver Arrow was doing.
Steadily, though, the Arrow arced around to the right until she was heading on a course perpendicular to her previous one. With the remaining Ainu frigate's continued forward movement, the Arrow's new course swung her smoothly around the enemy vessel's stern—the most vulnerable part of any ship.
"Starboard batteries at the ready!" Captain Harcourt commanded. "Deck guns in reserve!"
Lord Fernando, as he steadily made his way back up onto the poop deck with the samurai Niten, could hear shouts coming up from the gun deck below as the crews obeyed Harcourt's order and prepped their respective cannons.
Harcourt stepped up onto the steering platform next to Barret, grabbing hold of a nearby line as he watched the passing frigate with a hawk-like gaze. Once it reached a certain position, the Captain cried, "Fire!" once more.
This time, naturally, it was the starboard side of the Silver Arrow to belch flame. The deck guns, as per the Captain's orders, remained quiet, though ready to open fire at a moment's notice.
The Arrow's starboard batteries raked the hapless Ainu frigate's weak stern, tearing sizable rends in the other ship's hull. Lord Fernando, as he watched the carnage, could only imagine the state of anything that had been in the path of that volley.
Hitting a ship's stern was the checkmate of naval warfare. When one hits an enemy vessel with normal cannonshot, or even a perfect broadside, there can sometimes be horrific damage. But the kind of damage done is always fixable; getting hit in the bow or sides rarely sinks a ship. After all, the bow and sides of a ship are designed to withstand the constant battering of the elements, and are therefore well-reinforced enough to withstand a barrage of cannonfire.
The stern, however, is a much different story. Hitting another vessel in the stern guarantees horrific casualties. Because there is virtually no protection in the stern—the aft hull is little more than an afterthought when it came to durability—cannonshot that penetrates the stern can potentially gut the stricken ship from stem to stern.
If cannonshot hits the bow, it usually glances off. If it hits the sides and penetrates, its momentum is greatly reduced by the force required to break through the reinforced hull. However, cannonshot penetrating the stern is not slowed down in the least…and it won't simply burst out the other side of the ship; it will have nowhere to go but down through the soft insides of the ship until it hits the bow. Raking a vessel's stern was almost always a fatal blow.
The damage caused to the Ainu frigate was a sight to behold. As the remainder of the starboard batteries emptied their payloads into the Ainu ship, Lord Fernando could see that there really wasn't all that much left of the Ainu frigate's stern. As the smoke cleared, it was evident that much of the Ainu ship was on fire. Bodies could be seen strewn all over its decks, and the groan of breaking wood was audible even over the noise of the wind and water.
The Ainu frigate was sinking. It would submerge probably within half an hour at the rate it was going. In short, it was a job well done on Captain Harcourt's part.
"Bloody fine work, Cap'n, sir," Mister Barret remarked, casting the sinking ruin of the Ainu frigate a sidelong glance as he steered the Silver Arrow past it.
"Thank you, Mister Barret, but we are not out of the woods, yet…" Harcourt murmured, anxiously glancing at the other ten Ainu frigates, which had finished adjusting their courses and were moving to intercept.
Harcourt, however, kept the Arrow on a wide arc around the other vessels. The arc was just wide enough and the Arrow moved just fast enough so that the other Ainu frigates came close to heading off the Centralian man-of-war…but ultimately missed it.
Finally getting wise, the Ainu frigates started moving their thirty and forty-pounders up to their bows and began opening fire, trying to score a hit on the fleeing Silver Arrow's stern. However, firing from the bow was never a very successful tactic. Had ship cannons been more accurate at sea, perhaps it would be more effective…but cannons weren't accurate, so it wasn't. End of story.
None of their shots hit the Centralian man-of-war.
As the Silver Arrow gradually vanished into the nearly opaque fog bank, disappearing from the Ainu frigates' lines of sight, Niten felt that he really had to hand it to Captain Harcourt.
"You have soldier from Centralian Legions fight samurai from Ainu Islands, and samurai win every time," Niten said to Lord Fernando as the last Ainu frigate completely disappeared behind the veil of the mist that had enveloped them, throwing the Arrow into an eerie silence. "But I must say…you gaijin nevertheless know how to fight well."
"In single combat, your samurai would reign supreme, yes," Lord Fernando agreed. "But I think you would find yourself in a tight fix if it were army against army.
"Well, gentlemen, I would say that just about concludes things for now," Captain Harcourt said to his two guests when he finally rejoined them on the poop deck, interrupting a conversation about Ainu and Centralian ground warfare tactics. "With your guidance, Niten, we will set course for the island of Ito."
"My men and I shall give you the guidance you seek through this fog," Niten bowed his head to Captain Harcourt respectfully. "You fight well, Warrior of the Sea. Well enough to make this 'weather gauge' of the the enemy's mean nothing."
Captain Harcourt gave a faint half-smile, gesturing at the thick fog that enveloped the man-of-war. "They may have had the weather gauge, but we had the weather gods."