“You ask…. Much of me, Captain…” Lord Hirak’s voice was but a whisper, fearful eyes locked onto the red-soaked fabric wrapping Benjamin’s left palm. “And you claim the Queen Mother Victoria knows and vouches for him?”
“Ulioorin does. I trust the old SeaMaster with my life, or I would have attempted to dispose of Benjamin long before we arrived.. Had I succeeded, I would also have failed to rescue you, My Lord.” Olioorin answered formally before shifting uncomfortably, “Lord Hirak, there is more… forgive me, but I have come to suspect your uncle’s hand aided in your kidnapping.”
To Benjamin’s surprise, Hirak did not react in shock and was about to speak when the door opened, and Veiran entered, fluttering over to Benjamin, and began attending to his hand without so much as a flinch at the sight of red. “You know as well?” Hirak had noticed the same. Veiran simply nodded, never halting her attentions, “I do, Lord Hirak”
Hirak hummed deeply, “So easily, tell me, It is not easy to earn the trust of the Vin. What has this being done to earn such favor.” Veiran froze, it was half a heartbeat, but it was noticed. Benjamin sighed heavily, “It is ok, go ahead.” Veiran nodded, her wings still glowing slightly with her healing aura as she finished sealing Benjamin’s wound. “He… he is blessed, by the goddess. I have seen him wield forbidden power far stronger than any warrior maje from the H’mure wars. I was there, at the end… I can assure you, that if Benjamin was facing us, we may not have prevailed.”
Benjamin inhaled deeply in surprise. Intellectually, he understood that the Vin were functionally immortal, but outside of Vilora and Victoria, he assumed that not many of them had survived until now. Veiran looked up at Benjamin sincerely, “Benjamin, your power is terrifying; and I suspect you are holding back, but you are no H’mure. The treatment of your women alone proves that, but the way you fight is another mark in your ledger. H’mure hold little weight in the worth of a life. Their Majik reflected that, often willingly unleashing their power on friend as well as foe, if the situation would result in their favor. You do not. You take great care to avoid wounding a friend, even while wielding power many would call heretical.”
With that, the Vin healer bowed to Hirak, and departed. “A powerful testament, I must admit. Very well, but while I am inclined to believe you, it will does not solve our current predicament. This…. Galleon… represents an insurmountable force. Even with your new weapons, accounting for your abilities, three on one is simply suicide. How long do we have until…”
“CAPTAIN!” The master of the watch came barging in, “Appologies, but the lookout reports a storm on the horizon, the winds have shifted accordingly, putting the narrows direct-a-windward!” Benjamin straightened in his chair, “Captain, if this Galleon is traditionally built, she will have no real abilities to row to windward. She would have to sail at least 45 degrees to the wind to beat upwind, most likely more. If we are to even the odds… it is now.”
Olioorin took the measure of Benjamin in front of him, running the limited options before him through his mind before nodding sharply, “Very well. It is a faint opening, but it is our best one. Give the order, Watchmaster. We will be joining you shortly.” The Watchmaster disappeared as quickly as he had arrived, closely followed by Hirak, Olioorin, Benjamin and Valtrya.
Half way through the bowels of the vessel, they were intercepted by Viola, who was gingerly removing her arm from a sling before strapping on her Rapier. She caught Benjamin’s distraught gaze, but only shook her head, “My Benjamin, if what they say we face is true, I am in no less danger in the infirmary, than by your side. I will not die helpless in bed.” Ben cradled her head, pulling her as close as their armors could allow, “I… I know… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” They separated and continued on, never noticing Hirak’s concerned observations.
When Benjamin and company reached the main hatch; icy, salty spray reminded him that they were still on a low-slung long oarship of a pre golden age of sail design. Every cannon was loaded and run out but not primed. The number 2 gunner’s mate held a thick leather gloved paw, usually meant to prevent air from entering the cannon while sponging, tightly to the priming hole, the other hand carefully keeping the priming horn inside his wet weather gear. The cotton powder bags were inside individual metal pales with lids on them, ready to be inserted with minimal chance of receiving spray. Everyone’s ears rang as the rowing cadence was pounded out, and soon a rousing song, chanted in the Aquilar tongue, rose from the rowing deck.
“Captain, look!” The Watchmaster handed Olioorin the oversized spyglass and a gratified growl erupted from the captain, “Benjamin, this… Galeeoin…. Is falling away!! They have no oars!!! We…” his voice failed him as the entire side of the Galleon facing them disappeared behind a wall a fire and smoke. “INCOMING!!!!!!” Benjamin almost absently heard in his own voice. The range was long, and extending, but the heel of the Galleon, pressed to her mountain of canvas, had elevated her port side broadside battery. A hoard of low fluttering, warbles heralded the hatred coming towards them. Most of the incoming fire splashed either short or long of the mark, but Riooliuu did not survive unscathed. 3, 25 pound cannon balls crashed through her aft port quarter in a shower of splinters that scythed diagonally through the rowing deck as if death himself had come for blood. “Away repair parties!!!” Oliroorin barked in his native tongue, Benjamin did not need to understand the word, noticing the first of the two enemy Galleys approaching. “FUCK!” He swore, rushing straight to the starboard rail. Riooliuu’s progress to windward had faltered as almost a third of her oarsmen lay dead or dying, and the enemy captain smelled blood in the water. As they closed, Benjamin got his first glimpses of the enemy’s naval cannon design, and what he saw forced a fierce grin to his face. Their cannons fired a heavier shot, that was certain; but their gun trucks had no wheels, and their barrels were in-layed into them with steel bands, completely omitting the trunnions that allowed Ben’s cannons to adjust for elevation. They would be very slow to reload. He spun to meet a paw on his shoulder, and Olioorin took a full step back at the crazed expression on the ‘human’s’ face, “They have no wheels.” Growled Benjamin before spinning to the master gunner, “Elevate to position 3.” He Barked. Unsure of who to listen to, the Aquilar seamen looked anxiously at his commander who only nodded once, then bellowed the command.
Benjamin helped the aftergun swivel into place to present three guns to the closest threat as a trio of responses sounded. “On the uproll!!!” He called waiting half a heartbeat for the translation, “FIRE!!” Riooliuu belched her hate for the first time in ship-to-ship artillery combat. The wind was still dead ahead, and the forecastle and amidships canon smoke seared Benjamin’s eyes as they blew past. “LOAD!!” The range was still at the ragged edge of accuracy for a smooth bore cannon on the rolling high seas, but one round shot managed to skip off the water and shatter the mast of the incoming galley, and Benjamin watched through the oversized spyglass as its captain shouted orders in sheer panic before both of his cannons belched smoke and flame in unison.
They were not ready, and their shot sailed wildly short, one skipping along the water several times as it passed astern. Benjamin grinned as the enemy did what he had suspected. Their loading was going to be slow, he knew that now, especially since he could see that they had no bagged charges… which meant that the Galleon behind them lacked those as well, “Loaded!” Came the translated call from the master gunner, and Benjamin waited for the next roll of the ship…
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“FIRE!” He called, accounting for the delay in having his words translated. The range has shrunk by a third, and this time two of Riooliuu’s meager broadside connected, dismounting one of the enemy cannons, detonating the powder as a spark from the impact landed just right, and killing the crew. The second hit entered amidships, and Benjamin watched as oars flailed about in response to the carnage-filled chaos he knew was happening below decks. Moments later, a small memory reminded him of something from a history documentary, “Captain, we need to turn to starboard, 40 degrees! Master gunner… LOAD GRAPE..” Benjamin turned back to a confused Olioorin, the Veteran seaman was witnessing artillary-based naval combat for the first time in his life, “Captain please, I mean to rake her stem to stern”
Olioorin’s eyes widened at the implication. He knew they would lose speed, but the turn would bear them away from the second galley, whom while out of position to give the galleon its shot, was frantically rowing in to aid her comrade. “Helm! Hard over. Make your course nore-east by east!” Riooliuu groaned as she responded to the command, losing further way as her oar-deck was still recovering.
In any other galley engagement, this would be suicide… a blatant invitation to get rammed amidships and sunk, but Olioorin had just watched the impossible happen, true ranged combat on the salts, and Benjamin clearly understood this new carnage. “AS YOU BEAR!!!!” The humans fierce howl was quickly translated, but there would be no fire command. Each gunner knew they were to fire when their individual gun was lined up on target, not together in a single volley. Another ten seconds elapsed before the forecastle gun spoke its vengeance. Her gun captain's aim was true, and the center 2/3rds of her charge of grapeshot impacted the enemy, bow on, just above the waterline.
The first hits shattered what was left of the enemy oarsmen’s coordination, their oars flailing wildly just as Riooliuu’s amidships gun belched her fury. The second gun shattered the figurehead on the bow of the enemy vessel as her hail of grapeshot pulverized the sea deck rail, traveling the length of the ship as the individual small round ball’s reaped their grim harvest of souls. Benjamin’s eyes widened, finally shocked at the carnage now unfolding less than 30 yards from him. The after-castle gun next to him fired. None of the grapeshot from the last gun missed, and Benjamin watched the enemy captain bisected cleanly through the middle as he was hit by two individual iron projectiles. Less than a dozen sailors were left standing on deck, and the agonizing sounds of dead and dying reached Benjamin’s ears for the first time.
Riooliuu gained way once more, her oarsmen replaced, and spare oars run out from the hold. Benjamin didn’t notice at first, eyes fixed on the enemy galley’s scuppers now flowing thick with a mix of tortoise and green blood. The liquid gore poured from the vessel as if the wood planking itself was bleeding her life force into the ocean, and Benjamin found he could only look on in horror at the floating holocaust of his own making.
“My Benjamin,” Viola’s voice finally broke through, “My Benjamin, the other longship” Benjamin snapped out of his grim trance, turning to find the after-castle gun already repositioned to port, and the for-castle gun already in position. “Master Gunner, they are yours.” Benjamin’s voice croaked dryly and the Aquilar seamen stuck a salute before turning to bark orders.
Benjamin watched as Riooliuu’s Master Gunner proved a quick study, rendering the second pirate galley into a shattered wreck in much the same way as the first. Captain Olioorin observed all of this, keeping close to the vest the emotions roiling within him as they passed the narrows and into more open water, “Captain… Sir, look… the winds.. the storm is backing.”
Captain Olioorin turned only to see Benjamin, flanked by his women, looking up at the pendant atop the mast, now swung to betray the wind now blowing hard from the port beam. He then turned to look aft just in time to see the Galleon, surf boiling from her prow, emerge from behind the trees lining the narrows, bearing straight for them on a new-found weather gauge. “Captain, this is a problem…” The green-eyed being’s haunted tone registered, but now was not the time or the place. “We can’t make full sail can we, and that ship is probably capable of 10 knots in this gale… we can’t outrun them..”
“No… we cannot… they will be upon us within the hour I suspect. Our damage is slowing us down.” Olioorin admitted, “The second Longship scored a hit below our waterline. We have stemmed the flooding, but we have lost some speed and strength because of it. Riooliuu was never built for this…” he let his voice trail off as Benjamin winced sharply.
The next 45 minutes went by in terrible silence. Benjamin never stopped watching the monster bearing down on him, the ones he loved, and the crew he had come to respect. Finally, he calmed himself, and a cold hard edge arrived in his tone. “Captain, please take Viola, and Valtrya….” He turned to the Aquilar captain to reveal his green eyes ablaze in an unearthly glow. “… and clear the aftercastle.”
“BEN!” Viola called out, surprised panic in her voice, and Valtrya fought powerful Aquilar arms to stay beside Benjamin, “My loves, It will not be safe…go.” The two gasped at the haunting double voice that sounded very little like their Benjamin but stepped back when his seacoat and shirt disintegrated around him to reveal his electrical scars ablaze almost as brightly as his eyes.
Benjamin gave them a small smile before rising straight up into the sky until he came to rest upon the crow's nest atop the singular mast of Riooliuu. “Go!” He bellowed to the lookout who practically dove to the ratlines upon his arrival. Veiran and Vailin had rushed to the deck, both having almost been flattened by the massive surge of Majik they felt and stood watching along with the entire crew. No being moved a muscle, save for Benjamin who slowly raised both arms.
Benjamin knew what he had to do… worse, he knew what he could do… and it terrified him. He could feel the insane power of the energy within the storm barreling down on both vessels, but what terrified him was what happened when he touched it..It reacted to him, bending about the fingertips of his mind and soul until he was almost lost in its folds. Everything seemed so small, so insignificant, but he knew it was an illusion. There were people he needed to protect, both those he loved, and those of whom he would never meet… and to do that, he needed to survive to return to the mainland. His decision was made for him, and his mind grabbed hold of the very heart of the storm, as time itself seemed to be rendered meaningless..
Quiet… deadly empty stillness. Olioorin could not quite understand what his eyes were seeing. The Broiling storm, and the wind that accompanied it… had frozen. He could see the limp canvas flapping atop the now drifting ‘galleon’ behind them, but upon further inspection, even the rain and spray in the air had frozen in place.
Suddenly, a low warbling rush, similar enough to an incoming cannon ball, made him duck. The thundercloud, and every drop of water snapped upward in a violent cacophony of deafening booms. Olioorin looked up to see a massive cone of countless shimmering disks, the closes of them shaped almost like his grandfather’s reading glass, extending up into the heavens.
From atop the mast, a pained howling bellow erupted from the lookout’s singular occupant. And the air itself vibrated as the being raised one hand over his head, and another towards their pursuer, just before he was blinded by a flash of light brighter than the goddess herself.
——————————
Another cry of exertion escaped him as Benjamin forced the last of the storm’s might, all 4 billion Joules of it, into a mass of pure energy that stood atop hundreds of trillions of individual droplets, all flattened out into individual magnification lenses, that were currently stretched out up to nearly 35 thousand feet into the air. No one in his human history had tried to create an energy beam using this sheer volume of power, at least, not that he knew of.. but…
His thoughts were cut short as his control over the highly condensed energy failed, and the resulting detonation blew a perfect hole through the remaining layers of clouds. The sun, in all her power, fed his assembly, and Benjamin’s brain seared with the overexertion of micromanaging hundreds of trillions of individual liquid lenses. It worked, after all fashion. A bright white beam of concentrated light that wasn’t quite homogenous enough to be considered a laser slammed into the water 30 yards from the bow of the Galleon, and an involuntary bellow of exertion forced its way from Benjamin’s lips as he was forced to adjust everything, whilst maintaining control of every atom at his command. The beam boiled the cold ocean surface instantly before traveling across the waves and impacting the bow of the enemy vessel. No one had a chance to shout, and the column of pure concentrated energy instantly cut through the wooden deck, setting everything ablaze before reaching the powder magazine.
Viola watched in awe mixed with terror as the pure white representation of Suelin herself slammed into their pursuer, setting it ablaze only for it to detonate in a bubble of overpressure, flame, smoke, wood, and ruined bodies. Almost as suddenly, the puppet strings were cut, and a massive wave of falling water slammed down to the ocean, soaking all in attendance.
Her Benjamin slowly drifted down from the mast, landing heavily with his back to them. She could see him struggling to stand, heaving for every breath, and her heart sank as he turned to face them. Bright red poured from his nose and ears, one eye completely bloodshot as the Majik glow in his irises and scars flickered once, then disappeared entirely. He tried to speak, only to have unintelligent gurgling gibberish come out before he crumpled, his body dropping like a puppet with his own strings cut, landing in a pool of slowly expanding red…
