Masters of the Sea Trilogy: Ship of Rome, Captain of Rome, Master of Rome. John Stack

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СКАЧАТЬ I have never seen such a sight. What might does this sea have, that it can take a ship and devour her?’

      ‘Charybdis has taken one for us,’ Atticus began, ‘the Carthaginian on the lead ship’s starboard flank is heading directly for the whirlpool. They’ll realize the danger so they’ll either break off their pursuit or try to navigate around. Either way they’re no longer a threat. We’re still too far from the mouth of the strait to escape the last ship. She’ll run us down, knowing that the rest of the fleet are not far behind. Our only chance is to attack and disable her and then disengage before reinforcements arrive. Once we clear the mouth of the strait we’ll raise sail, using the trade winds sweeping south along the Tyrrhenian Sea. The Aquila can outsail any Carthaginian trireme.’

      Septimus nodded, agreeing with the captain’s logic. He looked back over the stern rail again at the two remaining Carthaginian galleys, picking out the one they would need to attack. Atticus had levelled the odds. Now it was the turn of Septimus and his men to take the fight to the enemy.

      On the foredeck of the Elissar, Gisco watched the scene before him with mounting disbelief. He couldn’t accurately judge the distance between the Sidon and the Roman galley from his position on the portside aft-quarter of the chase, but he knew it had to be close. The oars of the Roman galley had been suddenly raised from the water and before Gisco could question the action they had re-engaged and were once again moving as if nothing had occurred. Then, without warning, the Sidon seemed to buckle and swing wildly to starboard. Even now she continued to spin at incredible speed, her hull breaking up under the intolerable stress. Gisco was staggered by what he saw.

      ‘What sorcery is this?’ the captain beside Gisco muttered aloud. ‘It is the work of Pluto. We must abandon the chase.’

      ‘No!’ Gisco bellowed, the captain’s words allowing him to give vent to his frustration and fear at what he had just witnessed. ‘There will be no withdrawal. Give me attack speed now and signal to the Hermes to continue the pursuit.’

      ‘Yes, Admiral,’ the captain blurted, caught between his fear of the man before him and the unknown forces attacking the Sidon.

      Gisco now fully understood the actions of the Roman trireme, from her erratic and seemingly suicidal course to her inexplicably raising oars, and the thought of how they had played him for a fool fuelled the anger within him. Armed with the knowledge that the Roman ship had passed through these waters at attack speed, he gambled that the way ahead was clear, driven now by a desire for revenge.

      Captain Maghreb had watched the fate of the Sidon with equal horror from the aft-deck of the Hermes. The doomed galley was one hundred yards ahead, the sound of snapping timbers as the hull disintegrated mixed with the last cries of her crew as they were consumed.

      ‘All stop!’ Maghreb roared, his own fear consuming him. The oars of the Hermes were raised, the galley instantly losing momentum. Maghreb looked across to the Elissar, expecting to see her oars similarly raised. He could only stare in disbelief as the order to continue the pursuit was signalled from the admiral.

      ‘Steerage speed, lookouts to the foredeck!’ Maghreb roared as he immediately tore his eyes from the Elissar to scan the waters ahead, expecting any moment to see the vortex that would engulf his ship. The galley slowed to two knots, steerage speed, feeling her way through the water as she edged forward, searching for the rim of the maelstrom. Maghreb could only hope that the Hermes could navigate around the whirlpool in time to join the Elissar in full pursuit.

      ‘Come about,’ Atticus ordered, his gaze steady on the approaching Carthaginian galley, her partner now trying to manoeuvre around Charybdis.

      ‘Be ready, Gaius,’ Atticus added, ‘she’ll try to manoeuvre to ram. That’s where her strength lies and our weakness.’

      Gaius nodded, his entire being focused on the enemy galley. The Carthaginian vessel turned three points to starboard in an effort to run diagonally across the Aquila’s bow. Gaius knew that the enemy would try to turn tightly to come at them from the beam, to ram them amidships. He turned the Aquila three points to port to counter the enemy’s move, keeping the bows of both galleys on an intercept course.

      Septimus had assembled his marines on the main deck, preparing the boarding parties that would sweep over the rails of the Aquila onto the Carthaginian galley. They had separated into two groups. The first group of twenty hastati and twenty principes, new recruits coupled with seasoned soldiers, were moving to station themselves on the foredeck. The second group, the older triarii, were ranged across the main deck, ready to counter any boarding party from the enemy ship. All had discarded their four-foot-long scutum shields for a hoplon. The lighter rounded shield was a Greek design, perfectly adapted to the speed and agility needed for boarding, and the marines had trained hard to overcome their past allegiance to the legions’ standard shield.

      ‘Steady men,’ Septimus said, sensing the aggression coupled with nervous tension in the soldiers assembled at his back. The enemy galley was only one hundred yards away and closing fast.

      The Elissar tore through the waves at eleven knots, every turn of her bow matched and countered by the approaching Roman galley. Gisco had not anticipated the Romans would turn into the fight so soon, expecting his prey to continue their headlong rush for the mouth of the strait in a vain hope of making their escape. The reversal brought instant, instinctive commands as the galley was prepared for immediate battle. The helmsman worked hard to manoeuvre the Elissar into a ramming position, but his skills were evenly matched by those of the Roman helmsman. The Roman galley was now fifty yards away, her bow pointed directly at the Elissar’s. There would be no opportunity to ram. As the bows connected they would be made fast by both crews, each looking to board the other.

      Gisco turned from the approaching galley to look out over the stern rail. The Hermes was skirting the northern rim of the whirlpool, her tentative steps enraging the admiral. He had ordered the galley to join him in the pursuit, their combined strength initially needed to ensure the Romans would not escape. Now the Elissar would face the Romans alone and Gisco could not suppress the blood lust rising within him, the chance to gain some revenge for the loss of one of his galleys. Further behind, the Carthaginian fleet was advancing at battle speed. Once the two galleys engaged, Gisco estimated the fleet would be upon them within fifteen minutes.

      Gisco left the aft-deck and strode determinately to the foredeck, leaving the helm in the charge of the captain. The admiral would command the boarding party himself, standing firmly in the front line. Gisco tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, feeling the unyielding iron in his hand. He drew his weapon in one sudden release, the blade singing against the scabbard.

      ‘Prepare for impact. Make ready to board!’

      His men roared with naked aggression. Gisco let them roar, let them fill their hearts and nerve with anger, a rage that he would throw against the Romans.

      ‘Prepare to release!’ Septimus ordered, and his twenty hastati hoisted their pila, their heavy javelins, up to shoulder height.

      Gaius made one final adjustment to the rudder as the two galleys converged at attack speed. He gripped the worn timber of the tiller firmly in his hands as he held the course true, bracing his legs to cope with the anticipated command. The galleys were now only ten yards apart.

      ‘Loose!’ Septimus roared.

      At almost point-blank range, all twenty hastati shot their pila into the massed ranks of Carthaginians on the foredeck of the Elissar. Each СКАЧАТЬ