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Sword and Scimitar - Scarrow Simon - Страница 28


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‘The fool!’ Thomas growled as his fingers gripped the wooden rail tightly. ‘The fool.’

The galley fired on the corsairs as soon as its two bow guns came to bear. There was no attempt to wait for the vessel to settle and take the best shot. Even so, one of the balls crashed through the gun port under the forecastle of the nearest enemy galley and then tore down the length of the ship, smashing through the rowers, their benches and several of the oars which jerked savagely along the side of the galley. The other shot plunged harmlessly into the sea a short distance in front of the galley, throwing spray over the corsairs brandishing their weapons in the forecastle.

As soon as the Spanish galley had begun to turn, the other corsairs surged forward again, heading either side of the galley to take full advantage of the gap that opened up between the warships escorting the galleons. The damaged corsair could not move until the casualties amongst the rowers had been cut free and dropped into the bilge, and then the survivors redistributed amongst the remaining oars. As the vessel wallowed on the swell, the Spanish galley continued to pound it, cutting down the foremast and smashing the bows into a splintered ruin. As Thomas watched he could see that the corsair would not be able to take any further part in the battle even if the vessel was lucky enough not to sink. But that was small comfort since the way was now open for the remaining five corsairs to sweep past the Spaniard and fall on the galleons. A crackle of musket fire sounded as the corsairs exchanged shots with the crew of the galley, then the crash of cannon from the galley ahead and to the left of the flagship. The shot struck the stem of the foremost corsair, striking down the officers gathered there.

‘Sir.’ Thomas turned to Don Garcia. ‘We have to stop the corsairs reaching the galleons.’

‘I can see that, thank you. We must move closer to them.’ Thomas took another look at the scene before he saw that one of the corsairs was flying a much larger pennant than the others. He pointed it out. ‘That must be their leader, there.’

Don Garcia followed the direction he indicated.

‘If we can take or sink him, then we might discourage the others, sir.’

‘What of the formation? If we take after that ship we will no longer be able to cover the rear of our other galleys.’

‘It’s already too late for that. The formation was only good for as long as every ship held its station.’ Thomas gestured towards the galley still firing at the dismasted corsair, which had started to settle by the bows. ‘Now it’s every ship for itself, sir.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

‘Captain!’ Don Garcia called out as he strode to the rail that overlooked the main deck. ‘Alter course towards that corsair with the long pennant. Do you see him?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Have your gunners make ready. We must destroy him as swiftly as possible.’

As the captain passed the orders on, Thomas watched the corsairs’ attack unfolding. Five galleys had slipped between the Spanish escorts and were closing on the galleons to open fire at point-blank range. One of the enemy vessels had heaved to, and there were figures running across the stern deck as they looked for survivors amongst the officers who had been scythed down by a blast of grapeshot. Beyond the corsairs the leading Spanish ship was starting to turn back to rejoin the battle. To the south the two galleys tasked with protecting that flank were still keeping station even though they were under fire from the second group of corsairs.

‘What will the enemy do now?’ asked Richard.

Thomas considered the situation briefly before he replied. ‘If they follow usual practice they’ll try to shred the rigging and sails to stop the galleons and then clear the decks with grapeshot before they attempt to board. But there isn’t time for that. I believe they will fire on to the decks first and cause as many casualties as possible before they are forced to retreat. Then they’ll repeat the same pattern of attack. As long as the corsairs handle their ships well and avoid a melee they can continue their running attacks on the galleons.’ He sucked air through his teeth. ‘The soldiers on board are going to suffer grievous losses unless we can drive the corsairs off.’

The pace setter’s drum quickened and the flagship turned towards the enemy leader who was backwatering as he approached the nearest of the galleons. There was a flash and puff of smoke from the bows as the gun fired on the galleon. Just as Thomas had feared, the shot was aimed low and cut a swathe through the soldiers trapped on the deck. Small puffs of fire and smoke blossomed along the side of the galleon as some of the arquebusiers fired back. The other corsair galleys took up positions abeam of the galleon and added their fire and the officers on the deck of the flagship could only look on in despair as the Spanish soldiers were steadily cut down.

‘Can’t this damned ship move any faster?’ Richard hissed in frustration. ‘And why doesn’t anyone give the order for our guns to open fire? Surely we’re in range.’

They were little more than a quarter of a mile from the leader of the enemy fleet, whose galley was in direct line with the galleon.

‘We can’t fire,’ Thomas realised. ‘We’d risk hitting our own men.’

The captain of the flagship had also seen the danger and steered wide for long enough to ensure that the galleon would be clear of the line of fire when the flagship resumed its original course. The other Spanish galleys on the northern flank were turning to bear down on the enemy, their crews crying out battle cries as they saw their comrades being cut down on the galleon. The corsairs were alert to the danger and their oars dipped into the swell as they turned swiftly and made towards the next galleon, leaving the first with shattered bulwarks and thin trails of blood running down from the scuppers. The pale dots of the faces of the men on the high stern of the second galleon looked back towards the oncoming corsairs and Thomas could imagine the sick fear welling up in the pits of their stomachs as they prepared to endure the same fate their comrades had moments before.

The pursuit of the clumsy galleons had turned into a one-sided stern chase as the sleek vessels of the corsairs rapidly advanced on their prey. The enemy slowed as they closed up on the second galleon and the first shots struck the stern quarter, shattering the painted wooden shutters and tearing ragged holes in the ship’s side.

‘Are we in range yet, Captain?’ asked Don Garcia, his fist clenched tightly over the pommel of his sword so that his knuckles were white.

The captain silently judged the distance before he replied. ‘The range is still long, sir. But we might get a lucky shot in.’

‘Then give the order. At once.’

The deck shuddered as the first gun roared and a thick cloud of smoke briefly obscured the target. The wind stripped the smoke away as the men on the stem deck strained their eyes to see if the shot had struck home. The flagship rose on the swell and Thomas and the others saw a foaming white circle and ripples on the water close to the stem of the ship of the corsair leader.

‘Near enough,’ Don Garcia nodded. ‘Fire at will.’

The second gun blasted out and a fluke of the breeze swept the smoke aside swiftly enough for those on the flagship to see a section of the stern explode into a shower of splinters. A cheer tore from the throats of the crew and some waved their fists triumphantly.

'Have your men load with chain shot, ’ Thomas suggested. ‘Aim for the oars. If we can cripple them then we can put alongside them, board their ship and end this quickly.’

Don Garcia nodded and gave the order to the captain to pass on. The gun crews hurriedly swabbed out their weapons and loaded the next charges as the flagship closed the distance. The guns roared out again at a range of two hundred paces. The first shot tore up the surface of the sea behind the oar blades on the port side and sheared through the rearmost of the oars. A moment later the second shot struck home. Several of the oars shivered and splintered as the weighted lengths of chain ripped through the wooden shafts. At once the corsair slewed round to port and exposed its beam, providing an easy target for the gunners on the Spanish flagship.

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