Ship of Rome. John Stack

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 spear was eight feet long, with an iron shank that gave the weapon a fearsome penetrating power. As each spear struck its target, its shank broke off from the handle, rendering the weapon useless. The unexpected volley of javelins wrought tremendous carnage amongst the Carthaginians, breaking up the enemy formation that was poised to board the Aquila.

      ‘Starboard side, withdraw!’ Atticus roared, before taking off in a run towards the foredeck.

      The order carried clearly to the slave deck and the drum master repeated the order to the starboard-side rowers. The slaves immediately stopped their stroke and pulled the oars in hand over hand. Within an instant the oars were withdrawn, with only their two-foot-long blades exposed outside the hull.

      Gaius leaned the rudder slightly over to converge the two ships and the cutwater of the Aquila’s prow tore into the extended starboard-side oars of the Elissar. The rowers of the Elissar were thrown from their positions like rag dolls as the fifteen-foot oars they manned were struck with the force of the seventy-ton Roman trireme travelling at eleven knots. Many of the oars splintered, while some held together to strike the slave at the handle end of the oar. In the confined space of the slave deck, with the men chained to their positions, there was nowhere to run to, and by the time the Aquila had run the length of the Elissar, the starboard-side slave deck of the Carthaginian galley was strewn with broken bodies.

      ‘Grappling hooks!’ Septimus ordered as the Aquila’s foredeck came in line with the enemy’s aft. Immediately three of his men threw the four-pronged hooks across the narrow gap between the galleys. As the hooks found purchase on the Elissar’s deck, the marines clambered to grab hold of the attached ropes and pull with all their might. The gap was closed to less than six feet. Septimus ran forward and jumped on the starboard rail, balancing easily with his gladius in one hand and rounded hoplon shield in the other.

      ‘Men of the Aquila, to me,’ he shouted, and jumped the gaping void beneath the two galleys, landing solidly on the aft-deck of the Carthaginian ship.

      The marines roared as the blood lust of battle overwhelmed them and they followed the centurion without hesitation over the rails of the enemy ship, clamouring to be the first to draw Carthaginian blood. Septimus barged straight at the man nearest him and struck him squarely with his shield, using his momentum to knock the man off his feet, sending him reeling into someone behind. The few Carthaginians remaining on the aft-deck fled before the charge. Behind the marines, Atticus and Lucius jumped onto the deck of the СКАЧАТЬ