Read Online The Great King by Christian Cameron - Free Book Online
Authors: Christian Cameron
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in and they each cheated their helms slightly inward and ordered their own oars in, ready for the clash.
Every one of my marines and deck crewmen – and my twenty spare oarsmen – went and leaned on the port side of our trihemiola’s deck rail. And I motioned, and Megakles put the helm hard over.
And we turned. Not the sharp turn of a low-speed rowing turn, like the one we’d just executed, where you turn on a single point, like a pivot – but a high-speed turn on the arc of the ship’s length, drawing a geometrical figure in the water.
I might not have tried in the open ocean with real waves, but on the still waters of their inner harbour, I trusted to Moira and my rowers.
We shot across the westernmost ship’s bow, so close that I could have hit their ship with an apple core. We were coasting, coasting . . .
Ka held up an arrow and I shook my head.
Both of the enemy ships fell astern, turning as fast as they could.
‘Oars out,’ I called.
Have you ever had the moment come to you when you can feel the favour of the gods? When you are almost with them?
I had the sun and the sparkle of the sea – the stink of their barbaric sacrifices and the warmth of Briseis’ smile.
I looked off to the west, where the four triremes were struggling to get all their rowers seated and rowing.
Sekla sighed. ‘You’re grinning,’ he said. ‘Everyone’s scared, except Brasidas, who says you are like a mad priest.’
‘Brasidas didn’t say that many words.’ I looked at Sekla, and his dark brown eyes were laughing.
‘Whatever you are planning, I think it’s my duty to point out that if you’d just turn out to sea, we’d run clear in five minutes.’ Sekla pointed to the harbour mouth.
I nodded. ‘Give me five minutes,’ I said.
Sekla shook his head. ‘Why?’ he asked.
‘Revenge,’ I said.
We went west, no faster than a fast cruise. The wind was against us, and since our mast was a standing mast, the rowers had to work hard just to maintain speed. Leukas began to use the reserves to replace men as they tired.
I motioned, and Megakles cheated our hull south, towards the beach, by slapping his oars with the palms of his hands – just a few dactyls that would move the ship’s hull south a little and then back on course before we lost way.
I needed all of my opponents to remain fixated on me.
And the gods were with me.
When the time seemed right . . . It was like working a problem in mathematics, with Heraklitus watching over my shoulder, or Pythagoras’s daughter Dano making little disapproving noises – I thought of her surprise to hear that a little man like me used her great father’s theory of triangles.
But this was sheer guesswork.
I assumed it would take a certain time to turn my ship, even at this slow speed.
‘Prepare to turn north!’ I called.
‘Starboard rowers, reverse your seats!’ Leukas roared.
The ship was alive beneath me, and as soon as Leukas’s hand came up to tell me that the benches were reversed, I pumped my fist – the starboard side oars touched the water, and Megakles leaned in his harness, pushing both steering oars together, and we turned.
The enemies to the west were slower. Those to the east – those we’d outmanoeuvred – were faster. Now I turned between them.
They all went to ramming speed with a clash of cymbals that carried across the water.
They were all very slightly astern of me, running at almost right angles, aimed a little ahead of me. I wasn’t going very fast – in a ship fight, nothing loses speed like a hard turn. Every one of my rowers had his oar poised at the top of its arc, but none of them was in the water.
Bah. This is like having to explain the punchline of a joke. I confess that had they not been blinded by the gods, they would have smoked the trick or at least realised that I wasn’t rowing.
Sekla said, ‘This is insane.’ He laughed aloud.
I lifted my hand. ‘Now!’ I roared.
Leukas’s spear hit the deck.
One
Every one of my marines and deck crewmen – and my twenty spare oarsmen – went and leaned on the port side of our trihemiola’s deck rail. And I motioned, and Megakles put the helm hard over.
And we turned. Not the sharp turn of a low-speed rowing turn, like the one we’d just executed, where you turn on a single point, like a pivot – but a high-speed turn on the arc of the ship’s length, drawing a geometrical figure in the water.
I might not have tried in the open ocean with real waves, but on the still waters of their inner harbour, I trusted to Moira and my rowers.
We shot across the westernmost ship’s bow, so close that I could have hit their ship with an apple core. We were coasting, coasting . . .
Ka held up an arrow and I shook my head.
Both of the enemy ships fell astern, turning as fast as they could.
‘Oars out,’ I called.
Have you ever had the moment come to you when you can feel the favour of the gods? When you are almost with them?
I had the sun and the sparkle of the sea – the stink of their barbaric sacrifices and the warmth of Briseis’ smile.
I looked off to the west, where the four triremes were struggling to get all their rowers seated and rowing.
Sekla sighed. ‘You’re grinning,’ he said. ‘Everyone’s scared, except Brasidas, who says you are like a mad priest.’
‘Brasidas didn’t say that many words.’ I looked at Sekla, and his dark brown eyes were laughing.
‘Whatever you are planning, I think it’s my duty to point out that if you’d just turn out to sea, we’d run clear in five minutes.’ Sekla pointed to the harbour mouth.
I nodded. ‘Give me five minutes,’ I said.
Sekla shook his head. ‘Why?’ he asked.
‘Revenge,’ I said.
We went west, no faster than a fast cruise. The wind was against us, and since our mast was a standing mast, the rowers had to work hard just to maintain speed. Leukas began to use the reserves to replace men as they tired.
I motioned, and Megakles cheated our hull south, towards the beach, by slapping his oars with the palms of his hands – just a few dactyls that would move the ship’s hull south a little and then back on course before we lost way.
I needed all of my opponents to remain fixated on me.
And the gods were with me.
When the time seemed right . . . It was like working a problem in mathematics, with Heraklitus watching over my shoulder, or Pythagoras’s daughter Dano making little disapproving noises – I thought of her surprise to hear that a little man like me used her great father’s theory of triangles.
But this was sheer guesswork.
I assumed it would take a certain time to turn my ship, even at this slow speed.
‘Prepare to turn north!’ I called.
‘Starboard rowers, reverse your seats!’ Leukas roared.
The ship was alive beneath me, and as soon as Leukas’s hand came up to tell me that the benches were reversed, I pumped my fist – the starboard side oars touched the water, and Megakles leaned in his harness, pushing both steering oars together, and we turned.
The enemies to the west were slower. Those to the east – those we’d outmanoeuvred – were faster. Now I turned between them.
They all went to ramming speed with a clash of cymbals that carried across the water.
They were all very slightly astern of me, running at almost right angles, aimed a little ahead of me. I wasn’t going very fast – in a ship fight, nothing loses speed like a hard turn. Every one of my rowers had his oar poised at the top of its arc, but none of them was in the water.
Bah. This is like having to explain the punchline of a joke. I confess that had they not been blinded by the gods, they would have smoked the trick or at least realised that I wasn’t rowing.
Sekla said, ‘This is insane.’ He laughed aloud.
I lifted my hand. ‘Now!’ I roared.
Leukas’s spear hit the deck.
One
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