Chapter Twenty-Four

Hal's orders to his flight had been very clear. He fancied he could see Saslic scowl at him, but she obeyed his instructions, and Nont broke away, back the way they'd come. She was to return to the island, report contact, and get the others ready to move. If Hal didn't return within two hours, they were to assume he was lost, and fly off to alert the fleet.

Hal himself, unobserved as far as he could tell, found a thickish cloud to hide above, ducking out momentarily now and again to correct Storm's direction until he was flying in the same direction as the convoy.

Hal checked that compass heading twice, frowning. The Roche ships weren't sailing west, to make contact as directly as possible with their enemies, but in a north-north-westerly direction.

That boded poorly for the invasion fleet, he suspected, but there were other matters to deal with before Hal could duck from his cloud and fly hard for the Landanissas.

He counted the ships below. Sixty, at least, in three waves, sailing close together. All appeared to be galleys, of a fairly uniform size, so Hal assumed they were all warships. Their oars were raised, and they were traveling, at about the same speed as the Deraine-Sagene fleet, under power of the two squaresails on each ship's masts.

He thought about going lower, remembered Cantabri's warning, and climbed, keeping that cloud between him and the Roche. Once or twice he saw dots that were the patrolling dragons, but they didn't see him.

Very high, he set his course back the way he'd come.

They'd found the enemy. Now to report his presence, and also his very obvious intents.

"Very good, Sir Hal," Lord Hamil said. "I have no doubt that you'll warrant another decoration from the king, since you've made it possible to obliterate the Roche."

"Uh, sir," Hal said. "There's something else. Something more important."

"What could be more important," Hamil said, with a bit of a scowl,

"than being able to destroy the enemy?"

The cabin, thick with staff officers, was very quiet, waiting.

"The Roche direction of sail, sir."

"Explain, if you would?"

Hal went to the large map on the bulkhead behind Hamil.

"Sir, we're pretty sure our fleet's been tracked since we left Deraine."

"There's no certainty of that," Hamil said.

"No, sir," Hal said agreeably. "But consider that these Roche aren't not sailing toward us. Instead…"

His fingers touched the map where the Roche galleys should be.

"… instead, sir, they're on this course."

He traced the heading until it touched the Roche mainland. "They're making for this rivermouth port, sir, Kalabas."

Hamil jolted, and there were gasps from some of the staff officers.

Cantabri's eyes widened, as he got it.

"What of it?" Hamil tried to brazen it out.

Hal didn't know how to pursue the matter. Of course he wasn't supposed to know anything about the fleet's point of landing, but he'd remembered Cantabri saying the invasion would be at the mouth of a navigable river, leading north toward the Roche capital of Carcaor, and the great river at Kalabas, labeled the Ichili, met the description perfectly.

Finally Kailas said, rather lamely, "I thought that would be of import to you."

"Mayhap," Hamil said. "An interesting note, and one which I'll take into consideration, after we've destroyed the Roche."

Putting Hal out of his mind, he strode to the map.

"Gentlemen, I propose a simple plan. We'll change our course like so, and sail to catch the Roche on their flank. Our magicians will be casting all of the confusion spells they're capable of.

"We'll take those ships on their weakest point, and smash them. I know a bit about galleys, and how structurally weak they are compared to our ships, which is why we've built none in Deraine for any purpose other than harbor tugs.

"We'll hit them first, hit them hard, and leave them to their fate.

"This blow will ensure our landing will be successful.

"Now, I wish to see all ship division captains aboard here by midday, gentlemen. See to it."

Hal saluted, wasn't noticed in the bustle, and he and Cantabri edged out on to the flagship's main deck.

"Pardon me, sir," Hal said. "But… Son of a bitch!"

"Indeed," Cantabri said. "Went right over his head. Lord Hamil didn't live to be as ripe as he is by worrying about anything more than today's sorrows."

"So we're supposed to proceed with the landing," Hal said, "even though it's certain the damned Roche know exactly where we're going ashore, and, noting that river, exactly what our plans must be."

"As you said," Cantabri said grimly, "son of a bitch!"

* * *

Even if Lord Hamil couldn't see the morrow's dangers, he was good at dealing with today's.

The fleet changed course, curving south-south-east for half a day, then changed its course to north-north-east.

They would be in sight of the Roche in the late afternoon, the fleet navigator said, when the first dogwatch began. All four dragon flights were ordered to be in the air an hour before the meeting. Two were to observe, a third to attack the Roche dragons, and Hal's flight ordered to take its fire bottles against the galleys.

The Roche ships came into sight, and Roche dragons rose to meet the Deraine dragons.

The beginnings of the battle went like an infernal clockwork toy. The transports were ordered to drop sail until signaled to join the fray, and the warships put on full sail.

If Hal could forget about the probable disaster of the invasion, and he tried very hard, it was quite a spectacle, the sails of the Deraine and Sagene ships catching the falling sun, and, ahead of Storm, the vees of the Roche.

The dots of the four Roche dragons were met by the dragon flight, and the monsters swarmed together.

Someone reported the Deraine fleet, and suddenly the Roche sails came to the wind, and the oars dropped raggedly down into the water as men manned their fighting stations. Long waves creamed behind the galleys as they came up to full speed.

Hal had a glass, and saw pennants flap to the mastheads of the Roche ships.

The admiral in charge of the Roche ships evidently decided to split his vees, the left diagonal turning to meet the enemy, while the right formed a broad second line, probably intending to envelop the Deraine and Sagene ships.

But it didn't work that smoothly, or at all.

Ships crashed into ships, lost headway rather than risk collision, and it was a swirling maelstrom two thousand feet below.

Some of the madness may have come from the spells cast by Deraine and Sagene wizards, spells of fear, alarm, panic.

Hal glanced around, saw no sign of dragons, guessed they were fully involved with the Deraine monsters, signaled for his flight to dive on the Roche.

They dove hard and fast. Hal, who'd never done this kind of fighting before, estimated the right moment and hurled a fire bottle out and down.

Other bottles cascaded with it.

He pulled Storm up, banked, and cursed, seeing all of the bottles smash harmlessly into the sea, twelve flashes of fire and smoke, hurting no one.

But the Roche must never have heard of such a weapon, because the echelon he attacked went crazy, trying to turn away from the threat. Ships smashed together, and Hal fancied he could hear shouts and screams from his position.

He readied another fire bottle, and sent Storm down, determined he'd hit this time, or by the gods dive straight through that damned Roche galley.

He was low, very low, low enough to see oarsmen screaming, pointing, jumping overside, and he lobbed his fire bottle.

It hit just abaft the foremast, burst into flames, and the sail above it caught.

Fire roared up, took the ship, and Storm was speeding just above the waves, then up, barely clearing another galley's mast, and Hal went for the heights.

He looked back, saw three other ships afire, approved, and went down again with his third and last fire bottle.

This one missed, like his first, but four other fliers had better luck, and fire raged on the waters.

Ships were out of control, some oarsmen pulling pointlessly on one bank, the other side abandoned.

Ships collided with burning galleys, and the fire took them as well.

Hal and his flight, all intact, climbed high, just as the last Roche dragon plummeted past, into the sea.

There was nothing to do but watch now, as the Deraine fleet crashed into the swirling mass of galleys, their rams smashing, tearing the fairly flimsy hulls of the Roche ships, the galleys trying to send their soldiery across to board.

At first the Deraine ships refused close battle, smashing galleys down, sailing through into the second line, and attacking them. They turned, and awkwardly sailing almost into the wind, struck the rear of the Roche fleet.

Signals went up, and certain Deraine transports sailed into the middle of the battle, closing alongside crippled galleys, and sending infantrymen across to finish the ruination.

Another sweep by the Deraine and Sagene warships, and that was all the Roche sailors could take.

More than twenty of their ships broke away, skittering like waterbugs west, away from the battle.

But ten or so ships had harder men aboard, and fought on, refusing to strike.

They killed… but were killed in turn.

By dark, there was nothing left of the Roche fleet but crippled, burning, sinking galleys. The Roche had been shattered, for the loss of half a dozen Deraine or Sagene warships.

The way to the beachhead was now open.

Hal dreaded what might well happen next.