“They’ll work,” said Thicelt firmly. “We’ve tested them plenty of times.”
Jessep left unsaid the obvious rejoinder: not in a real battle, you haven’t. There was simply no point now in arguing about the matter. Thicelt’s complicated boarding ramps would work or they wouldn’t. Either way, Jessep was obviously not concerned about the outcome—a crack Vanbert hundred against twice their number of mangy pirates? surely you jest!—but simply the casualties. With proper claws, the Confederate marines would turn the pirate crew into so much ground meat. With these new-fangled things . . .
He sighed heavily. “Whatever happens will happen. And now, young sir, you’d best get to it. You don’t have much time left.”
Trae was gone instantly, shouting orders to his gunners waiting on the deck below. The gunners began scurrying to their newly-designated posts. Helga was a bit puzzled to see how easily they seemed to interpret Trae’s orders. Most of the words her younger brother was shouting were simply obscenities.
“That much he’s got right,” growled Yunkers. The former First Spear grinned at Helga. “Trained soldiers pretty much know what to do anyway. You just have to cuss at ’em to keep their brains working.”
* * *
Afterward, Trae and his men would be able to boast endlessly. Which, to the regret of everyone else, they did.
The pirate vessel, as Thicelt predicted, had no difficulty eluding the demibireme’s ramming attempt. Then, as the one-and-a-half slid by, the pirates pulled feverishly on their oars to close the distance. The one and only benefit of the ramming attempt was that it kept most of the pirate archers and all of their slingers out of the action. There was no room on that crowded vessel, with hundreds of men working at huge oars, for more than a handful of archers to fire a few missiles. Most of which, as Jessep had foreseen, went astray anyway.
Trae waited until the pirate ship was not more than ten yards distant. By then, Thicelt had removed all the rowers and Trae’s gunners had set the tripod clamps at ten places along the lower deck which gave them a clear line of fire. At Trae’s command—which was nothing more than a string of particularly obscene words—the first team of gunners set their arquebuses and fired.
None of it took more than a few seconds. The gunners themselves, following Trae’s previous orders, were not even aiming at individual men. In fact, they weren’t shooting at “men” at all. Not directly, at any rate. Their heavy, large-bored guns were simply pointing at the side of the pirate ship. The only sense in which “aiming” applied was that they were trying to hit the wooden wall of the enemy ship at approximately the height of the rowers’ benches on the other side. “Hip-high,” had been Trae’s specific command. But . . . with the heavy four-ounce balls fired by those two-man arquebuses, at point-blank range, anything close would do just fine.
And so it proved. The gunhandlers set their weapons, more or less “aimed,” then braced for the recoil and closed their eyes when the other man of the team applied the slow match. A slightly ragged volley erupted, and one which was noisy enough to make the word “erupted” much more than a poetic allusion. It sounded like a small volcano, heard up close.
Looked like one, too. Immediately, the middle portion of the pirate ship vanished from sight, engulfed in a cloud of smoke. Helga, from her vantage point, could only see the bow and stern of the enemy. The faces of the pirates standing there, which only a moment before had been leering at her, were now so many studies in shock and confusion.
She thought that a bit odd, at first. Her former lover Adrian Gellert, after all, had been the one who first introduced gunpowder weapons to the world—using the pirates of the islands as his chosen instrument. And the Islanders had taken to the new weapons eagerly, as her father and Speaker Emeritus Jeschonyk had discovered to their dismay when the first Confederate assaults on the rebel island of Preble had been bloodily repulsed. That had been over a year ago. By now, Helga would have thought, pirates would be quite accustomed to gunpowder.