“I’m counting on you, John,” she murmured. “Smash up some of those dromons for me.”
On the Theodora, John was issuing new orders.
“Ignore those three heading for us, Eusebius!” he bellowed. “Concentrate your fire on the ones heading for Antonina!”
Eusebius did not bother to look up. Preoccupied with helping a guncrew lay their cannon, he simply waved a hand in acknowledgement.
Finally, satisfied with the work, he looked up at the enemy. Already they were crossing the bows of the three warships who had peeled off to intercept them. The nearest of those ships was two hundred yards away—much too far to be able to get into ramming position, even given the greater speed of the dromons.
Eusebius turned his attention to the other four ships. The nearest of those was still three hundred yards distant. Estimating the combined speed, Eusebius decided they would be within firing range in less than two minutes.
“Fire on my command!” As always, Eusebius tried to copy John of Rhodes’ commanding bellow. As always, the result was more of a screech. But he had been heard by all the gunners, nonetheless.
Again, he screeched:
“No broadside! Fire each cannon as it bears! On my command!”
He scurried forward to the lead cannon. For a moment, he almost pushed the chief gunner aside. Then, restraining himself, he took a position looking over his shoulder. Sighting, with the chief gunner, down the barrel of the cannon.
Two hundred and fifty yards, now.
Two hundred.
They would cross the nearest dromon’s bow with a hundred yards to spare. Good range.
Eusebius blocked everything from his mind but the dromon looming ahead. As near-sighted as he was, the ship was not much more than a blur. But it didn’t matter. His decision would be based on relative motion, not acute perception.
He and the chief gunner moved aside, so as not to get caught by the cannon’s recoil. The effort did not distract Eusebius’ attention in the least.
The moment came. He tapped the chief gunner lightly on top of his leather helmet.
“Fire,” he said, quite softly.
The cannon roared. Bucked; recoiled. A cloud of gunsmoke hid the target.
But Eusebius wasn’t looking at the target, anyway. He was scampering down the line to the next cannon. By the time he got there, the chief gunner had already stepped aside, clearing a space for the cannon’s recoil.
He gave a quick, myopic look. Again, all he saw was a blur. Relative motion, relative motion—all that mattered.
He tapped the chief gunner’s helmet. “Fire.”
Down the line; next cannon.
Blur. Relative motion; relative motion. Tap. Fire.
Down the line; next cannon.
Blur. Relative motion; relative motion. Tap. Fire.
Down the line; next cannon.
Blur.
Blur.
No motion.
He looked up, squinting. Suddenly, the noise around him registered. Cheers. Syrian gunners cheering. Syrian wives shrieking triumph. And then, above it all, John of Rhodes’ powerful bellow.
“Oh, beautiful! Great work, Eusebius! She’s nothing but a pile of kindling!”
The chief gunner of the last cannon in line was grinning up at him. “That dromon is still floating,” he said. “You want I should smash it up?”
Eusebius shook his head. “No, save it. There’s more of them.”
He squinted. Everything was a blur. He thought he could make out two ships clustered together, but—
Years later, the young artificer would look back on that moment and decide that was when he finally grew up. All his life he had been sensitive about his terrible eyesight. Yet, too proud—too shy, also—to ask for help.
Finally, he did.
“I can’t see very well, chief gunner,” he admitted. “Am I right? Are the next two ships lying alongside each other?”
The Syrian’s grin widened. “That they are, sir. Bastards almost collided, shying away from the gunfire. They did get their oars tangled.”
Eusebius nodded. Then, straightened up and screeched: “Gunners! Are the cannons re-loaded?”
Within seconds, a chorus of affirmative answers came.
Screech: “Prepare for a broadside! Aim for those two ships! Fire on my command!”
He leaned over, whispering, “Help me out, chief gunner. Tell me when you think—”
“Be just a bit, sir. Captain John’s bringing the ship around to bear. Just a bit, just a bit.”