I hear more cannon fire. Water splashes as missed shots connect with the sea. Wood shatters as another cannon hits its target. I’m at my limit, rowing as fast as I possibly can, and it’s still not enough.
Stupid. So stupid. I should have seen the enemy’s hiding spot sooner.
Another blast of cannon fire has my heart pumping at impossible speeds. It’s followed by an earsplitting crash and the creak of wood. I look over my shoulder, already knowing what I’ll see.
They hit the foremast, and it falls to one side, ropes snapping, and sails tearing.
Some sound escapes me. A throaty shriek of frustration.
And then we’re finally there.
I fly up the rope ladder, land on the deck, and survey the crew. Four girls are at the capstan, trying to get the anchor raised. Meanwhile, Dimella is at the helm, cranking it for the turn that will finally get our cannons in range. Radita is nowhere in sight, likely already below seeing to the damage.
Girls race to prepare the cannons. The anchor finally comes free of the water. The enemy ship is almost lined up with our cannons.
I try to make out figures on the enemy ship, but all I see are heavy coats and gear, just like we wear, though in different colors and styles. And whoever wears them is definitely human, not that I really took Enwen’s fears into consideration.
“Return fire!” I shout.
Philoria sets the first cannon off, and it just barely skims the ship, as it’s not quite lined up with the cannon’s sight. Visylla’s shot goes wide, but Bayla’s strikes true. She takes out one of the enemy’s cannons at the fore, striking right through the gunport and destroying both the weapon and whoever was manning it.
There’s a small cheer on our side as we see the enemy scrabble out of the way and take longer to reload their weapons for the next bout.
But when it comes, it comes hard. Their cannons go off in rapid succession. There are still at least three at the fore, and Vengeance jolts from the hits she takes.
There’s a breathless, silent moment as both sides refill their cannons before firing once more. The ship finally comes within musket distance, though just barely. Shots ring out on our side, and crossbow bolts and gunshots answer from the enemy.
Another cannon hits us low, and the sound of rushing water is all I can hear for a moment.
Until another shattering boom sounds, and a cannonball streaks to us, skimming too high to hit the ship, dodging the mast.
It hits Bayla square in the chest and carries her off the ship.
She’s dead before she even hits the water.
I stare at the spot where she disappeared in stunned silence.
Radita is shrieking at me from below, and I barely make out her words.
I don’t want to believe what is happening. I want to go back in time, retrace my steps in such a way as to save the four—five now—we’ve lost on this journey.
I would have attacked the beastie the first time we saw bubbles in the water. I would never have left the ship to explore the shore until I was certain the crew I was leaving behind was safe.
But it’s too late for any of that, and regret will not save the souls who remain within my care. The truth strikes my heart like a physical blow.
We’re not going to win this fight.
Perhaps if we’d had the whole crew on deck. If we hadn’t anchored. If we’d had our weapons ready.
But it didn’t happen that way, and I know we’ve already lost.
“Dimella!” I shout. “Get the rest of the rowboats lowered. Now! Jadine!” I find the head cook somewhere in the bedlam, loading a musket for another shot.
“Captain?”
“Get as much food as you possibly can loaded into the boats.”
“We’re abandoning ship?”
“Preparing for the worst. Now go!”
Philoria gets her cannon reloaded and takes another shot. It strikes true, but the behemoth doesn’t slow.
I go belowdecks and call for Radita.
“Forget about patching the holes,” I tell her. “Have your workers haul up what supplies they can from the hold before it’s all below water. Anything we might need to survive on land.”
“Aye-aye.”
I return up top. Girls are firing muskets at the approaching ship, but the enemy’s volley is three times as large as ours, and my crew constantly has to duck out of sight to avoid being shot themselves.
The enemy vessel puts another hole in us. All three of our shots make contact with the ship now, but we can’t spread out the holes to do the most damage with just the fore pointed at us.
“Philoria,” I bark out. “Slow that ship down.”
She wipes unshed tears from her eyes as she lines up her next shot. “Aye-aye.”
The next few blasts aim higher, and one finally clips a mast, slowing the approaching vessel.
“Keep firing!” I order, and then I help the girls below. We bring up food, cooking supplies, tents, blankets, tarps, and anything else that might be necessary to survive on land. Meanwhile, the ship shatters and splinters around us. When I’m back up top, I can see our yano bird in the distance, fleeing the destruction. Someone had the sense to let it free. It’ll return to Alosa without a note.
“Everyone into the boats! Now!” My crew scrambles to the side of the ship, everyone squeezing onto the rowboats. Some girls even sit on each other’s laps to make room. Roslyn lands on the deck after climbing down the mainmast.
“There’s some movement on land, Captain,” she says, “but they’re too far away for me to make out anything.”
“Do you think you can steer us away from them once we reach shore?”
She nods.
“Good work. Get in.”
Philoria gets off one final shot, and Vengeance lists to one side, the water finally overcoming her.
“Let’s go!” I shout to her.
She races for the boats, the last of the crew, and nigh jumps into the waiting boat below. Only then do I sit myself and order the rowers to take us ashore.
More and more cannons fire upon Vengeance as we flee. When the enemy ship is close enough to take notice of the little rowboats in the water, it turns, lining those fore cannons up with us.
But the shots go wide. We’re too small of targets, and the fore cannons don’t have as much range of motion. Our boats hit the frozen shore, and we pull them onto land. Everyone grabs something to carry from the supplies we managed to bring with us, and we run.
I’ve got one hand clasped around Roslyn’s, the other around a pack of food. The terrain is rough, full of rocks and slick snow. It’s far too easy to slip, and many of us go down as we hurry. Roslyn takes me down once as she falls, but we quickly right ourselves and continue. A cannon shot sends a patch of snow flying into the air and then raining down upon us.
“Blast all this snow!” Dimella says as she rights herself after a fall.
Roslyn points to the right, indicating a patch of woods. “The movement came from there. We should go another way.”
I veer the crew to the left, and we run and run and run until we can’t run anymore. Until the cannon fire is just a small thrumming in the distance. Until the wreckage of Vengeance is entirely out of sight.
Until there is no visible reminder of my failure.
Just the pain and shame I carry within my chest.
Chapter 11