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Splintered Light Chapter 10.3, The Best Kept Secret

Naval warfare was always a possibility when traveling outside sovereign waters. Pirates were an ever-present threat and the occasional gun-runner or privateer wasn't above looting a private ship if the opportunity arose. Rolf had considered himself lucky that it had been almost two months since the Wave Rider had last found itself fired upon. The moment the cannons from the tree line belched out their smoke, flame, and shot, the Prong Horn considered looking at the bright side: it would be the first time he had ever engaged in sea-to-land combat.

When the cannonballs flew past the ship he considered even more optimistically that his first time engaging in sea-to-land combat would be against unskilled cannoneers. Once enough crewmen tracked the trajectory of the shots the optimism came even easier and much less forced; the Wave Rider had not been the target. The moment Rolf saw the enormous black shape beneath the waves, however, the optimism faltered... just a little. "What in God's name...?"

The ship shook suddenly from a powerful impact and Rolf grabbed hold of the bulwark to steady himself. Ahead and to the side of him his brother and the ship's surgeon latched onto one another as both almost pitched over the railing. Several shouts arose from the aft of the ship; whatever was trailing the Wave Rider beneath the water had not only gained, but had rammed them. From his position on the starboard side of the ship Rolf leaned out and could spot the dark shape circling. A moment later the thunder of the cannons firing from the shore heralded the land-based defenders striking the water around whatever it was attacking the Wave Rider.

Behind him, on the port side, The Boar gave a shout. "Signaling flags, sir!"

Captain Jacksoni, who was beside the flagger acknowledged. "Make ready to signal back. What's the word from shore?"

The crewman's response was grave. "Drop anchor and abandon ship."

Rolf didn't have to look to the captain to know from the tone of his voice that the Tiger's fur was up. "They're offering quarter?!?"

"No, sir-- it's stated as a s-to-s situation warning."

A 'sailor-to-sailor' warning was generally paid between ships out of gentlemanly respect, but the situation seemed entirely out of context. Flying a plague flag to warn other ships of a communicable disease, or a s-to-s regarding a port city that was under embargo or blockade was one thing, but Rolf had never heard of a s-to-s that involved cannon fire and unidentified submerged hostiles ramming a ship. Apparently he wasn't the only one confused by the situation. Foreman Zuider went so far as to state his confusion. "Orders, Sir?"

Captain Jacksoni raised his voice. "Jak! leBlanc!"

The Rottweiler had half the ship's distance to travel while the Lynx only had a dozen steps; the two officers managed to arrive in unison as if it had been practiced and they each spoke up together. "Aye, Captain?"

The Tiger turned to regard them. "What can we bring to bear on our aggressor?"

The Man-at-Arms and Gunner looked at one another then turned back to the Captain. Mr. leBlanc spoke up first. "Other than small arms, Sir?"

The ship gave another shudder and Rolf's practiced ear heard the sound of timbers creaking; there was a difference between being 'worn' and being 'damaged'-- the Wave Rider couldn't take much more before something (or many somethings) would officially count as the latter. The Bosun would have liked to have suggested a fort mounted heavy artillery barrage but, considering they didn't have access to anything nearly so powerful he just hoped that someone would have something in mind heavier than the aft swivel gun; whatever was hitting them seemed to shake off impact with the hull easily enough so he doubted the gun would do anything more than anger it. "That wouldn't make a difference."

The Captain was apparently of a similar mind. "I want something heavier than the cannons the men ashore are using."

Mr. Jak scowled. "Sir... we aren't even at an angle use our own cannons. All we have facing the rear is the--"

Rolf interjected. "Something stronger than the swivel please."

Mr. leBlanc smirked. "The swivel is a good start, actually."

Captain Jacksoni latched onto that. "How is it a 'good start'?"

The Lynx pointed to the shape. "They're about to fire. Watch."

As if taking their orders from Mr. leBlanc himself the cannons on the shore belched forth their payload a moment later. The cannonballs whistled through the air and huge geysers of water erupted all around the shape; some of them were tinted red. Tobias, who was near enough to be paying attention to the officers speaking was the first to assess the situation. "They must be harming it-- there's blood."

The Foreman wasn't as optimistic in his assessment. "Not enough... they're only stunning it-- look: it's coming around already."

Realization struck Rolf the moment he saw a spark of inspiration in Karl's eyes as the Rottweiler gazed at the artillery barrel mounted toward the back of the Wave Rider. The Foreman and Gunner spoke in unison. "The artillery."

Captain Jacksoni shook his head. "It's almost on top of us... we need more water between us and we're too close to the shore to maneuver."

Mr. leBlanc elaborated. "We can use the engine. Ahead-full after the next round of cannon fire and then while that thing recovered from the volley we hit it again with the swivel gun. If we can get it to circle around one more time then we'll have time to launch a shell."

The Tiger glanced to the Gunner for confirmation. The Rottweiler folded his arms across his chest. "If anything could hurt it, the artillery could."

The Foreman scowled (as usual). "That means we're still going to take another hit. Captain, if that thing runs into us again then--"

Ash-Moon interrupted the Goat. "We could throw you overboard to distract it."

Willem growled, turning to face the Jackal; Rolf recognized the slight downward tilt of the Foreman's head that indicated an angry Goat. Captain Jacksoni, as usual, was good at playing peacekeeper and quickly stepped between the two of them. "If you have a better idea, Mr. Zuider, I would be pleased to hear it, but if you do not then I would dare say we have precious little time to consider alternatives."

Mr. Viktor shouted from above, finger pointed toward the rapidly approaching dark shape in the water. "It's coming about for another pass!"

The Foreman and Captain locked eyes for a span of two or three seconds and eventually the Goat looked away. Captain Jacksoni glanced at the Man-at-Arms and Gunner. "Do what you can. Make it happen."

Mr. leBlanc needed no further direction. He began moving toward the back of the ship even as he spoke to Mr. Jak. "I want Vopello on the swivel-- get your team together and prep the artillery, Karl."

The Rottweiler nodded. "It will be ready."

The Lynx stopped by the voice tube that led to the engine room as the Dog passed him by. Mr. leBlanc lowered his head so he could speak into it. "Chief-- turn to; we need the engine ahead full at the Captain's direction. Make ready."

The Dragon responded in mere seconds. "Aye sir! Ready on his order."

Rather than waiting around for something to happen, Rolf decided to be proactive; it was, in fact, his go-to mindset that got him the position of Bosun in the first place. The Prong Horn dashed after Jacques, shouting out at several sailors who were standing numbly on deck staring at the dark shadow approaching them beneath the waves. "Wheeler-- Smith-- Brown; down below and shore up the hull!"

All three gave a decisive "Aye" and headed for the stairs.

He called after them. "Watch for leaks!"

Salvatore Vopello calmly passed by, handing a small green scallion-like vegetable to him. "Here you are, Bosun... just for you."

Rolf stared down at it. "What is--"

He realized the answer even as the Fox walked by, flicking his tail in mirth. "You said be on the look out for 'leeks'."

How Salvatore could have had it so close by to pull off the horrible word play was beyond the Prong Horn, exceeding all but the Fox's ability to remain so unaffected by the goings on around him. Rolf snorted. "Mr. leBlanc wants you on the swivel gun, Vopello!"

Another shudder from the ship meant that the Fox's reply was lost to his ears. Somewhere down below decks the crewmen tending to the hull shouted warnings to one another, and Rolf could have sworn he heard the sound of water spraying through wood. It wasn't a good situation but he had to trust in his men to make it right. Somewhere toward the front of the ship he heard the Captain shout down to the engine room for full power, and the ship lurched forward as it moved faster than mere oars could manage.

Other crewmen began racing around the deck, some going to tie off loose lines and others working to support the Gunner and his team. Salvatore, however, remained calm, moving at a measured pace down the length of the ship. He spun to the left, then the right, carefully figuratively and literally dancing his way around the sailors who weren't looking out for him. The Lynx was already at the rear of the ship, but his cry of alarm was loud enough to reach Rolf's ears. "It's closing again fast!"

From behind him, the Bosun heard his brother shout. "CANNONS FIRING!"

Spinning one way then the other, Rolf looked to the shore, then to the geysers of water and blood rising from the sea, then to the swivel gun... which Mr. Vopello had just reached. Mr. leBlanc turned to the Fox. "When that beast comes round I want you to fire."

Salvatore. "Of course, Sir."

As with before, the cannons did very little to slow the submerged shadow and it wasn't long before it got its bearing and was once again closing. Rolf ran to assist Karl and his team, who were still trying to raise the artillery barrel to a nearly vertical angle, rotating it just a little to make up for the breeze. He arrived in time to help with the angle, and to hear Mr. LeBlanc shout "NOW!"

Rolf turned to look at the Fox, who had just taken a bead on the beast. In a surreal momentary lapse of judgment, the vulpine crewman yanked the swivel gun to the side and fired too far to the right to hit the shadow. In a seemingly impossible stroke of good fortune, their pursuer made a sudden course correction as if actively attempting to avoid being shot-- and angled right into the shell as it struck the sea... and what swam beneath. A spray of water and ichor flung into the air and the enormous beast rose to the surface, stunned. Everyone watching gasped.

Most experienced sailors worth the salt that stained them had seen a whale but what Rolf stared at defied all knowledge he'd previously held. The creature was assuredly a whale of some type, but its body was marked with countless scars and several fresh wounds. Beyond that, however, was the armor-- huge metal plates that looked to be riveted into the thing's flesh in a way that almost made the Prong Horn think of the metal steam ships put into service recently by the University. "What in the name of the divine?!?"

Karl's roared orders broke through Rolf's locked-up brain. "Up! Up!"

The Prong Horn spun back to look at the Gunner, who was apparently unable to get the angle he wanted out of the artillery. The men assisting him were working to remove the enormous barrel from where it had been sunk into the deck. Rolf quickly moved to help and between them they managed to pull the cannon from its cradle. "Mr. Jak, if we--"

The Rottweiler wasn't interested in input and despite Rolf technically being a superior officer, had no trouble overriding him in a time of war. "Brace it against the bulwark!"

Mr. Meyer and Mr. Schmidt, who were at the front of the barrel did so and it was all Rolf could do to keep up with Karl, who supported the majority of the artillery's weight beside the Prong Horn. The Buck and Wolf lowered the end of the barrel onto the wood, which creaked beneath the weight of the weapon. The Rottweiler gave the enormous cannon a heave and only then did the Bosun realize that the Gunner meant to direct fire the weapon at the trailing creature. "Karl, you--"

Several ropes dropped down from the rigging and Viktor shouted down at them. "Tie it off!"

With Karl supporting the weight of the weapon and his two aides responding to his demands for aiming, that left only Rolf to do the line work. He quickly wrapped the ropes around the back end of the weapon, far more worried about the kickback than the weight; Karl seemed to be doing a fine job of supporting the artillery but he had no doubt that the muscular Dog would become so much mincemeat if there wasn't something there to absorb the shock of it firing. Just as he was putting an end to the bracing net he saw Karl do something particularly stupid: the Rottweiler lit the fuse.

The Bosun threw his shoulder against the back end of the cannon, supporting it alongside the Gunner. "ARTILLERY HOT!"

Gritting his teeth, Rolf waited to find out if he'd survive and, if he did, how many bones he'd break. A resounding 'thud' impacted the barrel beside him and a scaly wall of support in the form of Brother Zoari came to their aid. A moment later everything lost focus and his brain failed to make sense of the world around him thanks to the most powerful impact he'd felt in his life sending Rolf's conscious mind for a ride.

He realized he must have blacked out for a few seconds because there was a strange gap in the timeline between when he was braced against the artillery cannon and when he was being helped up off the deck. His right shoulder and left wrist hurt horribly, but he willingly set aside his pain as he looked out toward where the shadow beneath the water had been; there was only a red pool slowly dissipating. A few moments later crimson rain began to descend on the ship, and everyone aboard raised up a cheer. Rolf only sighed; it wasn't yet noon and it already felt like it should have been night. He passed out a moment later.