BY SCHISM RENT ASUNDER – snippet 104:
Had Sergeant Dekyn only known it, he was scarcely the only Delfarahkan who cherished reservations about the upcoming operation's timing and his own part in it. Captain Hauwyrd Mahkneel, of the galley Arrowhead, agreed with him completely about that much, at least.
Mahkneel's ship had been detailed to cover the main shipping channel out of Ferayd Sound. It would have been nice if they'd been able to find another ship to support Arrowhead, especially if they wanted to do this on a moonless night while the tide was going out. The channel between Flying Fish Shoals and Spider Crab Shoal began almost a hundred miles from the waterfront itself, and it was over twelve miles wide. Expecting a single galley to guard that much water against the flight of any of the Charisian merchant ships in the harbor went beyond ridiculous to outright stupid, in his considered opinion.
Not that anyone had been particularly interested in asking his opinion, of course.
He stood atop the galley's aftercastle, looking up at the heavens. At least the timing meant that any fleeing galleons wouldn't reach his own position until after dawn, so he ought to have light to spot them. Assuming the weather cooperated. The stars were clear enough . . . for now, but he didn't much like the way that growing bank of clouds was blotting out the starscape to the north as the wind carried the overcast steadily southward.
And that was another thing, he groused to himself. Not only had the people who'd planned this overlooked the interesting little fact that any fugitives were going to catch the ebb tide at both ends, but the wind wasn't likely to cooperate, either. The sound was just past high water, which, given the thirteen-and-a-half-hour tidal cycle and the probable speed of any fleeing galleons under the current wind conditions, meant the tide would be ebbing again, setting strongly through the channels to the open sea, by the time any fugitives got this far south. That, along with the fact that the wind was almost straight out of the north-northwest, would favor any galleon making for the main channel or for the East Pass, between East Island and Breakheart Head, as well. And with wind and tide both in its favor, even something as fundamentally clumsy as a galleon — and Charisian galleons, at least a third of which seemed to have the new sail plans, were far less clumsy than most — might well elude even a well handled galley.
At which point none of Mahkneel's superiors would particularly care how well handled Arrowhead might have been. Or about the fact that Mahkneel had been required to give up over half his hundred and fifty Marines and a quarter of his three hundred oarsmen for the boarding parties Sir Vyk Lakyr had required. It was tempting to blame Lakyr for that, but Mahkneel knew the garrison commander hadn't had any more choice about his orders than Mahkneel himself did if he was going to scare up the necessary personnel and boats.
And, when you come right down to it, it's past time someone did something about these damned heretics and their lies, Mahkneel thought grimly. This may not be the smartest possible way to go about it, but at least someone's finally doing something!
"All hands will be ready to man their stations an hour before first light, Sir," a voice said, and Mahkneel turned away from the rail as Rahnyld Gahrmyn, Arrowhead's first officer, appeared beside him.
"I notice you didn't say all stations will be fully manned and ready, like a good first lieutenant should, Master Gahrmyn," Mahkneel observed with a tart smile.
"Well, no, Sir," Gahrmyn admitted. "First lieutenants are supposed to be truthful, after all. And given how thin we're stretched, I thought that probably would have been something of an exaggeration."
"Oh, you did, did you?" Mahkneel chuckled sourly. "An 'exaggeration, hey?"
Gahrmyn had been with him for almost two years now. The captain had cherished a few doubts about the lieutenant initially. After all, Mahkneel was a sailor of the old school, and he'd been more than a little leery of an officer who spent his off-duty time reading and even writing poetry. But over the months they'd served together, Gahrmyn had amply demonstrated that however peculiar his taste in off-duty recreation might be, he was as sound and reliable an officer as Mahkneel had ever known.
"Well, 'exaggeration' sounds better than calling it an outright lie, doesn't it, Sir?"
"Maybe." Mahkneel's smile faded. "Whatever you call it, though, it's a damned pain in the arse."
"I don't believe anyone's likely to disagree with you about that, Sir. I'm not, anyway."
"I wish they'd been able to find at least one other galley to help us cover the channel," Mahkneel complained for what was — by his own count — at least the twentieth time.
"If they'd given us another few days, they probably could have," Gahrmyn pointed out.
"I know. I know!" Mahkneel glowered back in the general direction of the city . . . and of the oncoming clouds. "I don't like the smell of the wind, either," he complained. "There's rain behind those clouds, Hauwyrd. You mark my words."
Gahrmyn only nodded. Mahkneel's feel for weather changes was remarkable.
"While I'd never want to appear to be criticizing our esteemed superiors, Sir," he said instead, after a moment, "I must say I'm not certain this is the wisest way to go about this."
"Wallowing around all by ourselves in the dark like a drunk, blind whore at a formal ball?" Mahkneel cracked a hard laugh. "What could be unwise about that?"
"I wasn't just referring to the timing, Sir," Gahrmyn said.
"No?" Mahkneel turned back around to look at him in the faint backwash from the port running light. "What do you mean, then?"
"It's just . . . ." Gahrmyn looked away from his captain, gazing out into the darkness. "It's just that I have to wonder if closing our ports is the best way to deal with the situation, Sir."
"It's not going to be pleasant for Ferayd, I'll grant you that," Mahkneel replied. "It's going to be even less pleasant for those damned heretics, though!"
The captain couldn't see Gahrmyn's expression as the lieutenant looked away from him, and perhaps that was as well. Gahrmyn paused for a few seconds, considering his next words carefully, then turned back towards Mahkneel.
"I'm sure it is going to be painful for Charis, Sir. As you've said,, though, it's also going to be painful for Ferayd. And this isn't the only port where that's going to be true. I'm afraid that ordering the ports closed is going to be a lot easier than keeping them closed once the trade really starts drying up."
"You may have a point," Mahkneel acknowledged. "But if that happens, it's going to be up to us and the rest of the Navy to see to it that anyone who might be tempted to cooperate with these godless apostates gets shown the error of his ways, too."
"I just hope we'll have enough ships to do the job, Sir."
"Mother Church is building enough that we ought to," Mahkneel half-grunted. Something about Gahrmyn's last comment bothered him. The lieutenant had an unfortunately valid point about the difficulties the Navy was likely to face keeping the bottle corked. There'd always be at least some men shortsighted enough to be more concerned with money in their pockets than where and how their souls would spend eternity, after all. And it was going to take a lot of galleys to enforce Vicar Zhaspahr's orders; anyone but an idiot had to see that coming! But Mahkneel had the oddest feeling that Gahrmyn's observation hadn't been what the lieutenant had started out to say.
"I hope you're right, Sir," Gahrmyn continued, a bit more briskly. "And, with your permission, I'll just go and take one last turn around the ship before I turn in. Given how shorthanded we are, I don't see how it could hurt."
"Neither do I, Rahnyld," Mahkneel agreed with a smile, and the lieutenant touched his left shoulder with his right fist in salute and disappeared back into the darkness.
48 hrs to see if we get a battle or not…….
No battle, or at least not much of one. The galleons shall flee. I’m more interested in this possible Charisian supporter. Probable really. What part will he play and how common are people like him in the chain of command?
But Mahkneel had the oddest feeling that Gahrmyn’s observation hadn’t been what the lieutenant had started out to say.
What had it been the lieutenant had started out to say?
maybe…
Charis needs to get a bloody nose at some point. I would hate to see civilians paying for their military victories though.
Well Ron, in the type of war DW is writing about, expecting Civilians (especially ones far from home) not ‘paying’ is somewhat foolish. I understand your desire but War is Hell and DW knows that Religious War is the Hellish Type of War.
“tide” equally affects the speed of all ships.
However, someplace out there are Charisian pirates looking for ships belonging to the wrong side. At some point in the pursuit some of the fleeing galleons will find the pirates, admittedly fairly late, and the one galley will be rather lonely out by itself. Mind you, Weber’s galley tactics are more than a bit odd. Galleys with front facing guns need to attack in line abreast, not line astern.
“War is an ugly thing, but no the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling, which thinks that nothing is worth war, is much worse. The person, who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance o f being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.”
–John Stuart Mill
These civilians are forewarned and fore armed.
That being said, DW is not above introducing people just to kill them off. Given that we were introduced to this ship and the Charisian merchant last week, most likely one will not survive the night, and the other will take major damage.
J
I’m not a seafarer, but I would guess that the tide can be faster / slower depending upon the location in the channel with the center being faster than the sides. To hold position without tiring out the oarsmen wouldn’t the galley have to be on the edge? Thus the already moving sail ship already going at max speed where the tide is at max has the advantage over a ship lying in wait.
One factor will be how much cannon will these merchants have to hold off the galley until the merchant ships greater speed can take them out of range.
I find all this political bickering and cloak/dagger stuff all good to fill gaps, but dammit I want to read about something EXPLODING already. :(
Conversations are really starting to wind down, I notice. I think we’ve pretty much covered almost every social, psychological, and military angle there is to cover.
Still, something really refreshing could always happen. A plot twist to make M.Knight Shamawhatever wet himself. Only 6.25 hrs to go til we get the next snippet. *crosses fingers*