He grimaced. If the woodclad was still right next to the steam ram when that stuff was reached by the flames . . .
“They’re safe,” pronounced Thicelt. Again, the pointing figure. “Look—they’ve made a space, and Willem’s already getting the rowers working. The ram couldn’t have gotten wedged.”
Sure enough. Within fifteen seconds, the woodclad had moved thirty yards away from the steam ram. Demansk could now see the enemy vessel clearly. Insofar, at least, as the flames and smoke which seem to cover most of its surface allowed him to see anything.
“She’s gone,” said Sharlz. His voice held a trace of horror as well as satisfaction. “That’ll be pure agony in there. And not really even any way to get out, except—yes, look! One of them’s doing it!”
Demansk saw one of the gunports, all of which had been shuttered, swing open. An instant later, a man came spilling out, barely managing to squeeze through the narrow opening. He fell headfirst into the water. Within seconds, two more men followed him.
Thicelt was shaking his head. “Can’t be many of them get out that way. The main hatch’ll be impossible. By now it’ll be too hot to even touch.” His eyes ranged the water, narrowing as he saw the fins cutting through it here and there. “One or two of them might make it to another ship. No redsharks in these waters. But even greenies and Lemare’s Maidens are nothing to share an ocean with.”
Another gunport opened and two more men spilled out. By now, the woodclad was eighty yards off. A third gunport began to swing open, and Demansk saw a man crawling through.
Before he’d managed to get more than his shoulders through, however, he seemed to fly out of the gunport. As if—
The steam ram seemed to belch. Then . . . swell; then—suddenly, the entire vessel disappeared in an eruption and a cloud of smoke three times the size of the one that had already engulfed it. Even at the distance, Demansk couldn’t help flinching a little. Sharlz, he noticed vaguely, didn’t even try.
He held his breath. No one really knew what would happen if the powder magazine of a gunship exploded. If Trae and Thicelt’s best estimates were accurate, even the woodclad should be safe—it was almost a hundred yards off, by now. Demansk himself, and the rest of the fleet, should be perfectly safe at a much greater distance. But—no one had any real experience with the thing, in real life.
There came another, louder, explosion. Suddenly, rising up through the cloud of smoke, came the weirdest apparition Demansk had ever seen in his life. It looked like—what?
“The Lady of the Sea save us,” whispered Thicelt. “Blew the whole shell off in one piece.”
Demansk realized that what he was seeing—vanishing now back into the smoke—had been the iron armor of the enemy vessel. The bolts which held it together hadn’t given way. Instead, when the magazine blew, it had simply lifted the armor off the ship itself. The shell must have guided the explosion’s force mostly against the wooden hull proper.
“The rest of it just disintegrated,” added Thicelt. “Must have.”
Sure enough. When the smoke finally cleared away, which didn’t take much more than a minute, there was nothing left. A few pieces of wooden flotsam, here and there; a couple of bobbing heads—men still alive and swimming toward the nearest Islander galleys—and . . . nothing else. The armored shell must have plummeted straight down to the bottom once it hit the water.
“Shallow waters here,” murmured Thicelt. “Good divers . . . we might be able to salvage something.”
The built-up tension erupted from Demansk in a bark of laughter. Very bad for tradition, that. But—who cared?
“Give it up, Sharlz! You’re not a scruffy pirate any longer. Special Attendant and Admiral of the Fleet, remember?”
Thicelt grinned. “Old habits. Sorry.” The grin vanished as fast as it came. A moment later, Thicelt was bellowing new orders.
The woodclads beetled their slow way toward the three surviving steam rams—which, for their part, had already turned broadside and were beginning to roll out their cannons. Clearly enough, no steam ram captain was going to try another ramming maneuver.