Chapter 18 #3
“Fire to port!” Zanta barked the order like a general. It was relayed to the gunners below, who touched smoldering linstocks to cannons. The sound ricocheted through Zanta’s brain as all eight guns on that side fired.
“Reload!” She turned to Sabriye. “Tack starboard.” Sabriye adjusted the wheel, and the Monsoon banked away from the Lonesome toward the Marigold, getting just out of range as the Lonesome fired and missed the Monsoon’s side by mere yards.
Now there was the Marigold to contend with.
“Fire starboard!” Zanta ordered, just as the Marigold’s cannons thundered, almost drowning out her voice. But some of the crew had caught onto her game already. The starboard cannons fired in unison, and two shots pummeled the Marigold’s side near the aft quarters.
This time, Sabriye didn’t need Zanta to tell her what to do.
She swung the wheel back the other way with the cooperation of the crew in the rigging, taking the Monsoon just out of the Marigold’s range and into the Lonesome’s.
This wouldn’t work for long. The Marran mercenaries were closing in, tightening the pincer around them, and soon the Monsoon would be trapped in the perfect position to be in range for both without the risk of them shooting each other.
She had to draw them in, make them each forget their ally waited on the other side.
The thunder of simultaneous cannon fire left Zanta’s ears ringing. She didn’t miss a beat, and neither did the crew, as several cannonballs ripped through the Monsoon’s rails. One barely missed Laurent, who yelped and dove behind a bundle of cargo.
“Load bar and chain shot!” Zanta ordered the port crew, even as the Monsoon swung back the other way.
For her plan to work, they had to slow the other two ships enough that the Monsoon would be able to slip away without being followed.
The best way to do that was by damaging the sails and rigging.
If they ended up taking a good chunk out of the crew too, all the better.
They took another hit from the Marigold, one of Zanta’s newer crew members speared by flying debris as a cannonball burst through wood. Laurent grabbed the man and hauled him below. They came into range of the Lonesome again, the bar and chain ripping the other ship’s foresail.
“Fire when in range!” Zanta bellowed, trusting her crew to make the call of when to attack and when to rest. The Monsoon weaved her deadly path between the two ships as the vise closed further and further and it became more difficult to maintain the delicate balance.
But the Marigold, at least, was slowing.
Having taken a significant hit to her bow, and with several lesser sails shredded, she began to fall behind, but not enough to throw Zanta’s plan into disarray.
Both ships suddenly banked inward toward the Monsoon, closing in for the kill. Soon the Monsoon would be trapped.
“Ready gull wings and be sneaky about it,” Zanta ordered.
The wings were a pair of modified studding sails that dropped down to either side of the ship’s body.
She and Sabriye had designed them together.
Sure, they would make the Monsoon wider and harder to turn, but they would also increase their sail surface area, and therefore their speed, just enough to get them out of here.
But not before Zanta made sure the mercenaries couldn’t readily follow.
Heart in her throat, Zanta watched the two ships closing in until she could practically see the old paint beneath the Lonesome’s new varnish.
She swallowed her nerves and stepped in front of the wheel column, issuing a series of orders in a clear, steady voice that had the crew scurrying to do her bidding.
On either side, the Lonesome and Marigold readied to strike a final, decisive blow, drawing ever nearer.
Zanta could hear Sabriye’s shallow breaths behind her as she stood clutching the wheel spokes with white knuckles, awaiting Zanta’s order.
For just a few breaths, everything felt still. Distant cries of Fire! rang from the enemy ships.
“Furl sails!” Zanta shouted.
The Monsoon’s fanlike sails snapped shut, and their forward momentum slowed as the enemies’ linstocks touched to fuses. The Monsoon dropped back out of danger as the two ships delivered a full complement of deadly iron and lead right into each other’s sides.
“Turn about!”
Sabriye wrenched the wheel, slowing the Monsoon even further as it began to turn. They’d have to time this just right or they’d be dead in the water. Screams and shouts echoed from the mercenary ships, curls of cannon smoke lingering over the water so recently occupied by the Monsoon.
“Release starboard wing!” Zanta ordered, and it was done. Saffron canvas snapped as the sail filled and pushed them deeper into their turn, until they were almost facing into the wind.
“Release sails and port wing!” Zanta snapped, even as Sabriye frantically straightened the wheel. A cheer went up from the crew as the Monsoon’s sails filled and she surged through the waves once again, leaving the two mercenary ships behind.