Uncertain Honor Read online

  “Get us wet,” Kimo notified his first officer when he saw the flags.

  Moments later, one hundred and fifty oarsmen of the Psyche of Bellona pushed, and the five-banker slid into the sea. The other half of the rowers, dipped oars and rowed away from the beach at Manfria.

  By the time the final warships left the beach, the sun floated high over the eastern horizon. Getting the five hundred and ninety vessels of the invasion fleet launched and underway was tantamount to folding a silk scarf in a high wind. Like controlling the silk edges, it took precision to keep the hulls separated and the ships heading in the right direction.

  ***

  Marcus Regulus noted the speed of Longus and the forward element. They were pulling away leaving a gap and exposing the fleet’s center.

  “Signalman. Flag Consul Longus’ ship and have him slow the pace,” Regulus instructed.

  The Legionary jogged the one-hundred-and-forty-foot length of the ship to reach the bow deck. Once on the raised platform and in front of the fore sail, he began briskly waving two flags. When finished, he dropped them to his sides and waited for the reply. He had good eyes. Even with the sail as a backdrop, the flags from the other Consul ship were hard to identify and almost impossible to understand.

  The signalman spun, ducked under the fore sail, and sprinted back to the steering platform.

  “Consul Regulus. They need you at the front of the formation,” the Legionary reported.

  “Signal our squadrons to maintain their stroke rate,” Regulus told him. “Ship’s Centurion, we need to catch up with the forward element.”

  With the musician pounding out a quick stroke rate, and the officer on the rowers walk calling cadence, the flagship shot ahead of the center line. It closed with the other Consul ship just as the warships on the forward line began forming a wedge. Before Regulus pulled along side Longus’ flagship, he noted five triremes rowing into placed in the formation and five more three-bankers rowing back from their forward patrol.

  Sailors tossed grappling hooks to the other deck and began drawing the two septiremes together.

  “Lucius, what do you need?” Regulus called across the gap to his Co-Consul.

  “Your Senior Tribune Sisera was correct,” Lucius Longus admitted. He spit into the sea either to clear his through or as an insult to Sisera. “But only partially. The forward section of the Qart Hadasht fleet is only seventy ships-of-war strong. If I attack, I can remove them from our path.”

  “It’s better that we approach them together,” Regulus coached. “You don’t know what else they plan to throw at us.”

  “Look there, Marcus,” Longus exclaimed. He pointed ahead to where a line of Empire ships-of-war rose up from the horizon. “You can’t deny me this victory.”

  “Consul Longus, I’m denying you nothing,” Regulus pleaded. “I am, however, begging you not to rush forward.”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Longus conceded.

  The ships-of-war rowed close enough that the Consuls could see the faces of the bow deck officers. Then, the Qart Hadasht vessels cut a coordinated U-turn in the water and began rowing away.

  “Cowards. Come back here and fight,” Longus bellowed. He stomped his feet, waved his fists in the air, and finally ordered. “Ship’s Centurion cast us off and signal the forward element. We are going after them.”

  “Lucius, hold,” Regulus shouted.

  “For the love of Caerus, Marcus,” he replied invoking the God of Opportunity, “they’re here, we have the numbers. They’re in a panic and I plan to sink them all.”

  The hooks and ropes were tossed back, and the gap widened. Once there was room, the flagship of Lucius Longus, dipped oars. Despite Marcus Regulus’ argument, his brash Co-Consul led his line forward in pursuit of the retreating Qart Hadasht fleet.

  ***

  General Hamilcar examined the Republic warships as his line of ships-of-war drew closer.

  “Two septiremes at the front, very nice,” he observed. “Captain, prepare to turn our forward element.”

  “Yes, sir,” the ship’s operating officer acknowledged. “On your word, General.”

  “Remember, the Republic warships are as maneuverable as logs and their navigators as clueless as blindmen,” Hamilcar offered. “Don’t be in a rush. Let them stay close as we lure them away.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Captain assured his General. “Signalers, standby for a turn to the rear.”

  When Hamilcar could read the expressions on the faces of the Republic bow officers, he dropped his arm.

  “Signal the turn, in five strokes,” the Captain ordered. “Turn.”

  The seventy Qart Hadasht ships-of-war carved tight turns in the water. Such a synchronized maneuver was as far from panic as one could get. It was a show of remarkable seamanship, regardless of Lucius Longus’ opinion.

  ***

  Marcus Regulus watched as the fleet’s forward element vanished into the distance. Coming up on either side of his flagship, the heavy five-bankers with the Corvus boarding ramps and the lighter five-bankers gave him comfort.

  “Signal the heavies to form a line with gaps, especially in the center,” he instructed.

  He attempted to visualize how the fleet would be attacked. Probably from both sides and the front. With that in mind, he wanted to force the Empire ships to row between his ships with boarding ramps. If they got close, the ramps would drop, and his Legionaries could take the fight to the enemy’s decks. For those ships-of-war who ran the gauntlet, he wanted gaps in the center as an invitation for them to duel with his unencumbered quinqueremes.

  “Quick and fast, they may be,” Regulus prayed to the Goddess of Victory. “But they’re coming to me to fight on my terms. This day, Victoria, grant my warships the strength to be triumph. For that blessing, if you choose, I offer myself as a sacrifice.”

  A sudden wind came up and blew in the Consul’s face. He didn’t think anything of it. He was too busy searching the horizon for the next wave of Qart Hadasht ships. The effect of a headwind on his slow supply vessels never occurred to him.

  ***

  The Empire three-banker eased up next to General Hanno Gisco’s flagship.

  “Sir, General Hamilcar sends his regards,” a young nobleman announced. The smaller ship-of-war rocked in a sudden breeze. “He is proud to announce the way to the center of the Republic fleet is clear.”

  “Report to the General that my son and I appreciate his cleverness,” Hanno stated. “And tell him, when next we meet, it shall be over a victory dinner.”

  “Yes, General,” the Qart Hadasht noble acknowledged.

  The messenger’s boat stroked away, and Hanno turned to his son.

  “Our goal is to stop the invasion,” Hanno explained. “The man who does that will have a promising future. That means destroying the transports and their grain vessels. I want you to collect those honors. Your detachment will go directly at the soft targets.”

  “But General Hamilcar wants their fleet totally[JS1] annihilated. He specified the danger of the center section and the Corvus boarding ramps,” Hasdrubal Gisco suggested to his father. “Together, our three hundred and forty ships-of-war have an opportunity to do just that. I’m not sure about going against the General’s strategy.”

  “I have been involved in commerce, politics, and war since I was a young man,” Hanno assured his son. “Never have I gone wrong going for the heart of the matter. And the transports are the heart we need to cut out. Sink their supplies and the dirt farmers will return to their accursed Rome on their knees.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hasdrubal conceded. “What’s your plan?”

  “I’m glad you see it my way,” Hanno advised. He faced the wind and let it cool his forehead. “I’m taking one hundred and seventy of our ships out to sea. From there, I’ll come in on the side of the Republic’s center. When they turn to engage me, you’ll pass unseen down the shoreward side with the other third of our fleet.”

  “And attack the supply ship
s at the rear,” Hasdrubal speculated .

  “You’ll sink the supply vessels and, after winning glory, bring your ships up to me,” Hanno directed, “Afterward, we’ll implement Hamilcar’s plan.”

  As Hasdrubal began walking the ramp to his flagship, the breeze faded.

  Chapter 15 – Battles at Sea

  Ship’s Centurion Effati grew weary of pacing the steering deck. After too many circular steps, his impatience guided him to the edge of the platform. He hesitated for a heartbeat before hopping off.

  “I should have taken the rowers walk,” he mumbled. The top deck route had him weaving around groups of Legionaries and sailors.

  “Sir, did you need something?” a Legion NCO inquired.

  “No. I’m just having a conversation with myself,” he replied. That remark revealed his insecurities and it was a mistake. As the Centurion of a heavy five-banker, he needed to be cool, aloof, and professional. To cover the error, Effati added. “It’s the only way I can have an intelligent conversation.”

  “I totally get that, sir,” the Optio assured him.

  With his mouth clamped tight and a stern expression on his face, the ship’s senior officer continued to zigzag through the one hundred armored infantrymen stationed on the deck. He ducked under the mid sail and strolled to the Corvus boarding ramp.

  “Is she ready?” he asked a group of sailors and riggers.

  Towering eighteen feet above the deck of his quinquereme, the folded boarding ramp seemed to touch the sky. When deployed, the Corvus would unfold and extend to thirty-six feet as it swung over an enemy ship. Effati reached up and touched the iron spike used to affix the Corvus to the enemy’s wooden deck.

  “The joints are oiled, the ropes waxed, and the spike sharpened, Centurion,” a rigger responded. “You can count on us, sir. When the time comes, the Wink of Voluptas will not let you down.”

  Effati flinched at the mention of the ship’s name. He inherited the name when he was promoted to the warship, but his dislike of the moniker extended beyond a personal preference. At every port-of-call someone teased a crewmember about being stationed on a warship named for the Goddess of Pleasure. And in every case, it resulted in a fight that required administrative adjudication.

  “The Republic and I are counting on you,” Effati informed the sailors.

  He walked around the Corvus, strolled several feet down the deck, and stepped up on the bow deck. Effati ducked under the foresail and looked to his right.

  “Good morning, Third Principale,” he greeted the watch officer before inquiring. “Any sign of the Empire?”

  “No, sir,” the ship’s third officer responded. “If there was, I would have called out.”

  “I trust you would have,” Effati validated the watch officer’s declaration.

  Off to the right, a line of forty-five heavies stretched all the way to the Consul Regulus’ flagship. And that was only half the row of quinqueremes with Corvus ramps. Beyond the flagship, the line extended just as far in the other direction. Plus, there were gaps between the five-bankers placing Effati’s warship far out to sea. Being the last Republic vessel on the left side of the line placed the Wink in deep water, far from shore, and alone. The crew felt nervous about the placement and looked to their young ship’s Centurion for reassurance.

  Effati joined the bow officer in gazing forward beyond the upswept prow of the quinquereme. Seeing nothing except water and birds to the front, they scanned the vista around to the left. Far away in the seaward direction, images danced on the horizon.

  “Sir. Sir. Are those…?” the third officer stumbled to find the words.

  “I believe they are,” Effati confirmed the worst.

  The ship’s Centurion stepped off the bow deck and strolled towards the aft. With his arms loose at his sides, he marched confidently down the crowded deck. As he approached the steering platform, he raised an arm and waved.

  “First Principale. A word if you please,” although he spoke in a calm tone, inside, ship’s Centurion Effati’s heart was attempting to leap from his chest. “And collect the signalmen while you’re at it.”

  ***

  The Wink of Voluptas rowed to face seaward and moved several boat lengths before Effati ordered, “Check it down.”

  “Check them down,” the First Principale repeated.

  One hundred and eighty oars squared their blades in the water. The flat surfaces acted as breaks halting the heavy five-banker. It seemed counter intuitive to sit still while hundreds of Empire ships-of-war rowed forward, aiming their bronze rams at your sideboards.

  “Sir, maybe we should…,” the First Principale began to offer.

  “Hold position as directed? An excellent idea. Thank you for your opinion,” Effati said cutting off his first officer. “Legionnaires. Prepare yourselves.”

  “Rah,” came back from the infantrymen.

  The men of the reinforced Century stood, adjusted their shields, fixed helmets in place, and formed four lines. Then, they settled down on one knee.

  The Corvus equipped quinquereme provided a stable, if not always level, platform when in motion. Sitting still, the ship rocked in the waves. Adding to the instability caused by the top-heavy boarding ramp were the kneeling Legionaries and their armor, gladii, and shields. Despite the rolling deck, ships’ Centurion Effati remained outwardly calm and quiet.

  Not until the mist forming at the top of the enemy rams could be identified as frothy seawater, did he decide on a direction.

  “Starboard side, standby, power ten,” he declared. “Port side, back it down, on my command.”

  On the rower’s deck, the three hundred oarsmen tightened their grips on the cedar poles. They had trained for the moment but had never performed under combat conditions. Prayers and curses were uttered to hide the fear. Shoulders flexed, thighs tightened, and the one hundred and eighty oars quivered in the water.

  Four Empire ships-of-war adjusted to target the Wink of Voluptas. Two placed their rams head-on to the forward flanks of the Wink’s hull. Two more used flatter angles, aiming for the rear boards and the raised keel.

  The Wink’s bow officer lifted his chin and braced his back. He might go down, but the Qart Hadasht sailors would not get the satisfaction of witnessing a breakdown by a Legion officer.

  The Empire officers on the two ships-of-war directly to the front laughed and leered while holding the rails. They waited patiently for their bronze rams to disembowel the Republic warship.

  ***

  “Execute. Execute. Execute,” Effati bellowed.

  The First Principale also roared the commands.

  As if a trained boxer, the heavy five-banker surged left propelled by the Starboard side oarsmen. Aiding in the turn and leap forward, the Port side rowers backstroked. The keel pivoted and the Wink slid away from one Empire ram while crowding in beside the flank of the other ship-of-war.

  Sailor and riggers hauled on ropes and the Corvus boarding ramp uncoiled. Snapping outward, the bent section towered momentarily over the enemy’s deck before dropping. The sharp iron spike split the boards and pinned the ramp to the Empire ship.

  The first line of Legionaries came off their knees and as if connected front to back, sprinted onto the ramp and raced across. Behind them, the second file joined the boarding party. But, the third and fourth columns remained stationary and waiting.

  “Do not let the other one go,” Effati thundered to his crew.

  In response, the riggers and sailors cast grappling hooks at the ship-of-war passing along the right side. When the Wink’s second officer heard the command, he shouted down the rowers walk.

  “Starboard side, blades in,” the Second Principale exclaimed.

  All ninety oars retracted. The oars of the Empire ship, however, shattered while the two hulls were pulled closer together.

  “Century, stand up,” the Legion Optio commanded the remaining Legionaries. “Centurion Effati wants that ship-of-war. Draw.”

  “Rah!” the inf
antrymen responded.

  “And we are going to deliver for him,” the NCO yelled before running to the outrigger deck and leaping across the gap.

  Close behind, fifty Legionaries followed their NCO.

  At the bow of the Wink of Voluptas, the Third Principale broke his defiant position when he grabbed a rail for support. Beside throwing him off balance, the sideways jerk of the warship snapped the bow officer’s head and for a heartbeat, he lost sight of the four ships-of-war. When his vision cleared, the Corvus had dropped, and Legionaries were turning the sea battle into a ground and pound fight. And grappling hooks were flying at the second ship-of-war.

  Behind the two engaged with the Wink, the other set of Empire ships angled inward. They intended to make the Republic warship pay for remaining in one place for too long.

  Thinking to make a grand gesture, the bow officer started to turnabout and salute the crew. Just before he acted, a pair of light five-bankers came from either side of the Wink.

  Their oars digging deep and churning at a high rate, the Republic rams caught both ships-of-war in their exposed flanks. Bronze splintered boards, crushed beams, and ripped gashes in the hulls of the Empire ships.

  The two Republic quinqueremes carved water as they turned away, leaving devastation in their wake. Officers on the steering platforms of the warships saluted the Wink of Voluptas as they sped away. Her actions had resulted in removing four Qart Hadasht ships-of-war from the fight.

  Unfortunately for the Republic fleet, not every engagement ended so well.

  ***

  Fifteen five-bankers away from the Wink, the Claw of the Raven mistimed its swing. The massive Corvus dropped into the sea and sank. Keeling over on its Port side, the quinquereme dumped fifty of the armored Legionaries into the water. Weighted down, they vanished into the depths.