BY SCHISM RENT ASUNDER – snippet 111:
"Very well, Master Gahrmyn!" Mahkneel shouted through his leather speaking trumpet.
The first lieutenant straightened from where he'd been personally peering along the barrel of the massive, four-and-a-half-ton doomwhale in the open-backed forecastle. He didn't reply to Mahkneel's order, except to wave one hand in acknowledgment, then nod to the gun captain.
The gun captain bent over the breach of his weapon for a moment, checking its sighting for himself, then stepped aside and pressed the red-hot iron in his right hand to the primed venthole. Smoke flashed upward from the priming, and then the massive gun spewed fire and smoke as it went leaping back along the deck on its wheeless timber mounting. The shock of recoil slammed the soles of Mahkneel's feet, transmitted through Arrowhead's deck planking as the breeching tackle snubbed the gun's movement, and the white fountain as the round shot plowed into the water well over a hundred yards beyond the galleon was visible despite the whitecaps.
And now what are you going to do, my fine heretical friend? the captain thought sardonically.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Well, that was certainly unfriendly," Harys Fyshyr murmured. Then he raised his voice.
"Now, Master Edwyrds," he shouted.
* * * * * * * * * *
Mahkneel was looking straight at the Charisian galleon. Even so, it took him two or three precious heartbeats to realize what he was seeing as the gunport lids, carefully painted to match the rest of the galleon's hull, opened abruptly. They rose as if they'd been snatched up by a single hand, and the short-snouted carronades thrust out of the sudden openings.
He opened his mouth, but Gahrmyn had seen it as well. The first lieutenant needed no orders, and Arrowhead's flank chasers bellowed almost as one. In fact, they fired too soon, while the bow was rising, and both of them went high. One of them missed entirely, and even though the other smashed into the Charisian's hull, it hit too far up her side to be effective. It tore a round, splinter-fringed hole through the bulwark, but then it continued onward on an upward trajectory to plunge into the sea far beyond the galleon without inflicting any further damage.
Arrowhead was less fortunate.
* * * * * * * * * *
Kraken's deck bucked as twelve tons of carronades recoiled in a single, brutal bellow. Smoke billowed, momentarily blinding, despite the brisk wind. Then it was snatched away, rolling downwind like a shredding bank of fog, and Fyshyr bared his teeth as he saw the galley once again.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Hard a port! Hard a port!" Mahkneel shouted, fighting to get Arrowhead round so her own broadside armament would bear while the forward gunners reloaded. Unfortunately, the galley had scarcely begun to answer the helm before the Charisian fired.
Despite their relatively narrow target, despite the fact that both their target and the deck beneath them were moving, and despite the shot which had already hammered into their own ship, the Charisian gunners made no mistake. At least eight round shot, each of them as heavy as either of Arrowhead's flank chasers could have fired, crashed into the galley's bow.
Men shrieked as the heavy shot plowed aft, killing and maiming anyone in their paths. One struck the starboard rowing frame, ripping lengthwise along it and cutting off sweeps like a scythe reaping wheat. Two more screamed down the oardeck itself, accompanied by lethal showers of splinters, and Arrowhead staggered as the intricately coordinated choreography of her rowers was brutally interrupted.
More iron swept aft at upper deck level, punching completely through the forecastle, exploding out its open back like demons and carving their own paths of carnage through the deckhands and the Marines waiting for orders to board the fat, helpless galleon after its surrender. One shot crashed directly into the timber bed carriage of the starboard chase flanker, dismounting the weapon and killing almost its entire crew, and yet another slammed into the capstan and sprayed a fan of splinters and bits of iron across the deck.
"Get her around!" Mahkneel bellowed at his helmsman, and the helm went hard over. Despite the wild, flailing confusion of her starboard oars, Arrowhead retained enough momentum to respond, and the galley swept around, fighting to bring her port falcons to bear.
That was when Hauwyrd Mahkneel discovered that the preposterous reports about how quickly Charisian artillery could fire weren't preposterous, after all.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Yes!" Harys Fyshyr shouted as his second broadside crashed into the Delfarahkan. His gun crews knew how urgent speed was, but they were taking time to aim, as well, firing on the downroll so that every shot hammered into their target's hull, and another storm of iron smashed into the galley.
Arrowhead was more heavily built than Kraken, but not nearly so heavily as a Charisian galley, and her turn had exposed her side instead of her narrow beam, giving Kraken's gunners a longer, bigger target. The heavy round shot smashed into her timbers, shattering and splintering, killing and maiming, and he could hear the screams of wounded and dying men as the galley's momentum carried her still closer.
The Delfarahkan managed to get the rest of the way around, and her broadside of light falcons barked. At least three of the eight-pound shot slammed into Kraken, and someone cried out in pain. But the galleon's smoke-streaming carronades had already recoiled, their crews were already reloading, and the galley had scarcely fired before Kraken's broadside bellowed for a third time.
* * * * * * * * * *
Mahkneel staggered, clinging to the rail for balance, as the Charisian's fire crashed into his ship again and again while she wallowed. Arrowhead's rowers were in hopeless disarray, she'd lost all forward way, dead and wounded lay heaped about the decks as she fell helplessly off to leeward, Lieutenant Gahrmyn was down — dead or wounded, Mahkneel didn't know which — and, as he watched, the "merchantman" which had already so mangled his command, altered course. She turned downwind, angling to cross his broken, bleeding ship's stern at a range of mere yards, and he knew there was nothing at all he could do to stop her.
He watched the Charisian's guns running back out yet again, saw them flash fresh fire, felt the impact of their iron on his ship as if in his own flesh, and knew it was over.
"Strike the colors!" he heard someone else shouting with his own voice. "Strike the colors!"
* * * * * * * * * *
Fyshyr watched the green and orange Delfarahkan colors come down like a wounded wyvern, and his lips drew back in a snarl. Behind his eyes, he saw again those bodies being thrown over the side of their own ship like so much harbor garbage. Heard again the survivors' reports of murder and massacre, of dead women and slaughtered children, and the screaming encouragement to slaughter the "heretics" in God's name.
His guns thundered yet again, and fierce exultation blazed in his heart as their iron shot smashed into the galley's splintering hull. They'd chosen to start the slaughter, he thought savagely. Now they could deal with the consequences.
"They've struck, Sir!" Edwyrds cried in his ear, and Fyshyr nodded.
"I know," he said flatly, as yet another broadside thundered into the mangled, bleeding carcass of his enemy.
"Damn it, Sir — they've struck!" Edwyrds shouted.
"So what?" Fyshyr wheeled on his first officer, then shot out one arm, pointing back the way they'd come. "Did they give us any warning, like an 'officer and a gentleman' is supposed to do? Did the people we're not even at war with stop when they were murdering our people? Our women and children? Burning our ships? Killing our friends?"
Edwyrds looked at him for a moment, then shook his head and leaned closer.
"No, Sir, they didn't. But these people were clear out here when it happened. And even if they hadn't been, we're not them. Do you really want us to turn into exactly what Clyntahn's already accused us of being?"
Fyshyr's eyes went wide in astonishment as bluff, unimaginative Kevyn Edwyrds threw that question into his teeth. For a long, breathless moment, while the guns roared yet again, they stood there, eyes locked . . . and it was the captain's gaze which fell.
"No, Kevyn," he said, and his voice would have been all but inaudible even without the thunder of battle raging around them. "No. I won't be that."
He drew a deep breath, looked once more at the broken, bleeding galley, and then raised his voice.
"Cease fire!" Harys Fyshyr shouted. "Cease fire!"
Frankly, that decision was almost the worst of both worlds. You kept beating on a surrendered enemy, and you did it in a way that left survivors to tell the tale. But then, DW is spending his time building up to a nasty religious war, so I guess a few atrocities you can chalk up to the good guys is rather necessary.
I wonder what will happen to the prisoners?
Why bother to take prisoners? It’s a long sail home and they don’t need the distraction. Leave them on the ship. The only reason to get closer I can see would be to hoist over the guns, as bronze seems to be in short supply.
Prisoners might be bait for trading to get merchant seamen back. Or at least officers might have some value.
And ps.
Surrendering to someone you have just been shooting at is always a risky business.
3 extra broadsides into a surrendered ship, are we even sure there ARE survivors? in the greater mix of things the survivors on the galley will now what happened in the harbour, or will find out, and in a weird kinda way, could be symphantic(can’t spell to save my life) towards the actions of the Kraken’s captain. As Alsadius has pointed out though, its probably for the worst, all it takes is one mouth screaming atrocity, for many more to take it up and use both side’s casulities as martyrs.
The gentleman’s rules of warfare went out the window with the carnage in the harbor. The Arrowhead was an enemy naval combatant firing on what she thought were fleeing merchant ships in times other than war, this makes a case for piracy if you wanted to get nasty about things. Kraken as the only warship in the the survivors’ convoy would have been justified in sinking the Arrowhead regardless of the Arrowhead striking her colors or not. Kraken’s task is to protect these ships and escort them out of enemy waters by any and all means. And as far as atrocities go the Arrowhead was a naval ship engaged in combat, not a bunch poorly armed merchantmen in a supposedly friendly harbor.
“We’re not them.” That will be the report in Charis. Of course the report to the rest of the world will be the firing into a surrendering ship.
J
Where do you get 3 extra broadsides after they struck their colors? From my reading there was one broadside that happened after the colors came down:
“Fyshyr watched the green and orange Delfarahkan colors come down like a wounded wyvern, and his lips drew back in a snarl. Behind his eyes, he saw again those bodies being thrown over the side of their own ship like so much harbor garbage. Heard again the survivors’ reports of murder and massacre, of dead women and slaughtered children, and the screaming encouragement to slaughter the “heretics” in God’s name.
His guns thundered yet again, and fierce exultation blazed in his heart as their iron shot smashed into the galley’s splintering hull. They’d chosen to start the slaughter, he thought savagely. Now they could deal with the consequences.”
So basicly we have one more round of shot fired right after the colors came down. Now I’m sure that the church will make hay out of that but any practical person could argue that the gunners fired that last shot with out seeing the colors come downa and before they could be ordered to stop/
Definitely 3 broadsides after the colours were struck. There were two more while they were “arguing”
With black powder weapons and no hearing protection it was not unusual for several shots to be fired before the word to cease fire could be passed and understood. Individual gun crews were to busy to notice anything except their work and if a division officer was down or re-assigned an entire division might fire two or three times after the order to cease fire was issued on the quarterdeck. It wasn’t like the crews were looking out the gunport other than the few seconds it took the gun captain to check his aim, and he wasn’t looking for a flag. Depending on the wind and the spacing of the guns most of them were firing blind or into a vague shape in the clouds of smoke. That is why the RM stressed laying the enemy close alongside BEFORE firing in actions between capitol ships. After the first broadside the gunners might never saw the target again.
The text says three broadsides after the Arrowhead struck, but DW has the Kraken firing much faster than is actually possible with muzzleloading cannon. The highly-trained crews of US frigates in the War of 1812 managed one shot every 20-30 seconds, and that was considered impossibly fast by the British naval officers who had the misfortune to fight them. C.S. Forester’s “Hornblower” novels referenced a British standard for long guns of 3 broadsides in two minutes, or 40 seconds per shot. Carronades reload a bit faster, but the small amount of speech between broadsides indicates no more than 10 seconds or so to reload and re-aim. That ROF would only be achievable if Kraken mounted breech-loaders with fixed cartridges rather than her actual 32-pound muzzleloading carronades.
Ken
Sorry-typo-that should have been RN not RM, referring to the British Royal Navy. Another point-the Delfarahkan prisoners will make it plain to everyone that the Delfarahkan military was acting under orders of the inquisition, not their own king, and that the orders given to the Arrowhead did not endorse wanton slaughter. That knowledge could be very important to Caleb and others if a chance to “turn around’ Delfarahk comes up in the future. Charis/Chisolm cannot win in the long term by themselves, and anything that can be used to drive a wedge between the inquisition and the rest of the faithful (including both secular rulers and the churches own hierarchy) will be pearls beyond price to Caleb.
As Caleb is marrying, and his queen is his equal, that is as much her as him in all these discussions.
And rather sooner than Merlin may expect, I suspect that she is going to notice that something is a bit odd about Merlin Athrawes.
“I didn’t see the colors go down in all the smoke! …Once I did, I stopped firing immediately!”
There would be survivors, or witnesses, to tell the tale either way. Do you know how hard it is to kill every member of a ship’s crew in sight of their own land while you are fleeing for your life? Not to mention the fact that someone was probably watching the battle by spyglass.
“His guns thundered yet again, and fierce exultation blazed in his heart as their iron shot smashed into the galley’s splintering hull. They’d chosen to start the slaughter, he thought savagely. Now they could deal with the consequences.”
“”I know,” he said flatly, as yet another broadside thundered into the mangled, bleeding carcass of his enemy.”
“Fyshyr’s eyes went wide in astonishment as bluff, unimaginative Kevyn Edwyrds threw that question into his teeth. For a long, breathless moment, while the guns roared yet again, they stood there, eyes locked . . . and it was the captain’s gaze which fell.”
Those are the three broadsides which hit after the colors were struck. Incidentally, since there are sections where the captain was thinking rather than talking, it’s not hard to believe that it could have been at least twenty seconds or so between volleys. I mean, if you think about how long it actually would have taken for the captain and first mate to have that discussion, short as it was…
I think DW has made a mistake here. I cannot see any reasonable way to pack three broadsides into that conversation without a simply ridiculously long time spent on pausing. Only if it were various groups or pairs of guns firing independent of each other (possible, since the various gun crews may have widely different rates of fire) could there be three distinct volleys in the space of that conversation. Kevyn Edwyrds does not sound like the kind of man to utter a single sentence and then stand there silently for half a minute while his captain does nothing.
Remember the importance of accepting an enemies surrender was during Calebs sea battle off of Armegedan reef. You might argue some the ‘smoke and heat of battle’ but it all depends on the impression of the other side on how quickly the cease fire occured compared to the response that they are used to.
Even if the cease fire had occured right after the colors strike any survivors might still see the full damage done as evidence of their enemies bloodlust. I believe that at the begining of sub warefare the crewes were considered to be heartless and dishonorable because they didn’t stop to rescue survivours of the ships they’d sunk.
As can be seen below, there were three more broadsides after the flage was struck. That question settled pick up survivors as prisoners and turn the m over to the King Justices, do they declare Delfarahk an outlaw nation not entitled to the rules of war. Then everything goes. But that something the King needs to decide not a Captain of a Priviteer.
His guns thundered yet again, and fierce exultation blazed in his heart as their iron shot smashed into the galley’s splintering hull
“I know,” he said flatly, as yet another broadside thundered into the mangled, bleeding carcass of his enemy.
Fyshyr’s eyes went wide in astonishment as bluff, unimaginative Kevyn Edwyrds threw that question into his teeth. For a long, breathless moment, while the guns roared yet again, they stood there, eyes locked . . . and it was
should a heritics ship be taken in the future can caleb justify such actions or not ?
Peter:
Assume about a second per word spoken, with pauses of about a second between sentences by the same speaker. Further assume that none of the indicated pauses exceeded five seconds, and there were no more than two seconds between each person speaking. Here’s how it adds up, even giving the benefit of the doubt and assuming Edwyrds spoke up immediately after the first barrage:
Edwyrds, 6 seconds; pause, 1 second; Fyshyr, 2 seconds; pause, 3 seconds; Fyshyr, 35 seconds; pause, 3 seconds; Edwyrds, 30 seconds; pause, 5 seconds. Just the two long statements by the captain and first mate would have accounted for most of the difference, and combined that adds up to about 85 seconds – well within the time needed for three broadsides to fire. And before anyone says anything, it takes time for people to talk, assuming they want to be understood. Just because it only takes a few seconds to read, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t have taken a lot longer to say out loud.
If you want another example, time yourself reading a page of a book silently, then time yourself reading the same page aloud. It will take at least 3-4 times longer the second time than the first.
In other words, there’s nothing wrong with three broadsides (especially from this artillery) hitting while the two of them were yelling at each other. It’s quite within the scope of realism.