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Earth and Water Chapter One Jarred out of Reverie |
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During this exchange, Miretus had
ordered Winds put hard over to
larboard. We swung around, driving by
our sinking foe and following another Athenian galley into the maw of
combat. We surged past a duo of triremes
locked in a death grip, bow to stern, Persian marines attempting to swarm the
decks of their Greek rival. I was
brought back to myself completely as an arrowhead planted itself firmly in the
deck by my feet, splintering the hard oak and drawing a further exclamation
from Hippocrotes.
"Bastards probably jealous you've
got my sister, too!"
That drew a nervous laugh from
those around us. Patrocles shook his
head in disgust.
"Keep your shields up and your
heads down!" he ordered. "Looks like we're going in again."
And we were. Miretus had veered from the stern of the
trireme ahead of us and set course for a beleaguered Cypriot vessel that lay
dead in the water, its oars thashing like the legs of an overturned beetle,
caught as it was in a mass of dueling warships and unable to get to clear
water. We had them dead to rights, and
Miretus aimed our vessel like a well-thrown spear, straight amidships of the
enemy.
"Here we go again!" said
Hippocrotes, serious once more and bracing himself against the deck.
I braced also, planting my shield
in front of me and dropping to one knee, preparing for impact. I had a better sense of the maneuver this
time, so when it came, I was ready.
Still, the wave of fear I felt as we once again hurled ourselves at the
enemy was no less unnerving than it had been before.
The angry and terrified shouts of
the Cypriots rose sharply as we plowed into their vulnerable flank, splintering
oars and embedding ourselves, it seemed, nearly to their keel. Immediately, the stricken battleship settled
upon our ram, the damage catastrophic and mortal. Once again came the command
from Patrocles.
"Up shields!" he cried. "Archers, release!"
We rose to our feet, our helmets
barely peeking over the shield rims, our eight footers held above our shoulders
at the ready. Behind us, the thrum of
taut-strung bowstrings announced the release of our first flight of deadly
missiles. We were not alone in attack, however..
Nearly in the same moment, the
enemy had also found their footing and their courage. Once again, the air filled with the whir and
slap of iron and bronze, the clatter of wooden shafts skittering against shield
as the hiss of death buzzed past my ears.
A startled scream behind me indicated one of our bowmen had been hit,
and a moment later, I heard his body thud to the deck. I kept my focus to the front, however, where
the Cypriot marines were beginning to gather.
Winds had driven so far into
their vessel that our catheads and forepeak were flush and even with their main
deck. If they wanted, they could climb
directly at us. And they seemed to want
to. Miretus, of course, had noticed as
well.
"Time to get out, men!" he roared
above the din that rent the air. "Crew
forward! Rock us out of here!"
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