.XIII.

Siddar City, Republic of Siddarmark

“I can’t believe we actually did it,” Lieutenant Blahdysnberg said, shaking his head as HMS Delthak demonstrated yet another of her remarkable capabilities by backing smoothly away from Saint Angyloh’s Quay.

At least part of her new ship’s company seemed to find that smooth, gliding sternward motion as profoundly unnatural as many of the spectators did, but it was an undeniably useful ability.

“Neither can I,” Halcom Bahrns said absently, watching the water gap between his ship and quayside widen. He waited a moment longer, then looked at the petty officer standing by the big, brass-handled “engine room telegraph.”

“Ahead slow starboard,” he said.

“Ahead slow starboard, aye, Sir,” the petty officer replied, reaching for the right-hand handle. Bells jangled, and after a minute or two, Delthak began pivoting sharply.

Bahrns wished he’d had longer to experiment with handling her in confined quarters, but he wasn’t going to complain about the maneuverability her twin screws bestowed. Just as long as he didn’t get carried away and smash her into something, at any rate!

Despite the fact that her guns had been mounted and she had her full complement on board, she was far lighter than she’d been when she departed Old Charis with six times her normal fuel supply stuffed into every corner. She was also far more crowded, however, and far too many of “his” people were still learning their duties aboard her. Fortunately, Lieutenant Bairystyr’s stokers and oilers had been given ample time to learn their duties on the voyage to Siddarmark, and his gunners already knew their business, as well.

Which suggests you’re probably worrying about whether or not they know what to do to keep from worrying about what it is you’re supposed to be doing, he reflected.

“Stop engines,” he ordered.

“Stop engines, aye, Sir.”

Bells jangled again, and he glanced at the helmsman waiting another minute or two while the ship continued gliding astern, until he could see the barges lying to their buoys almost dead ahead.

“Rudder amidships.”

“Rudder amidships, aye, Sir.”

Delthak’s course straightened, and he looked at the telegraphsman again

“Slow ahead, both,” he said.

“Slow ahead, both, aye, Sir.”

*   *   *

“I’m with Blahdysnberg,” Cayleb Ahrmahk said quietly. “I never really believed they could do it, either.”

He stood beside Merlin on his favored balcony on the Siddarmarkian Embassy’s roof, watching through Owl’s sensors as the ironclads prepared to pick up their tows before leaving harbor. They would be towing a total of six canal barges when they left North Bay, and it had taken almost as long to prepare the barges as it had to prepare the ironclads themselves. They’d been “armored” with thick wooden bulwarks and sandbags, and two of the barges each ironclad would tow had been fitted with four fifty-seven-pounder carronades apiece. Nobody had felt that mounting cannon on barges loaded almost exclusively with gunpowder and coal would have been a very good idea, but the ones carrying the Marines and fledgling Siddarmarkian riflemen needed to be able to look after themselves.

“I can understand that,” Merlin replied. “But that was the easy part, you know.”

“Nothing about this inspiration of yours is going to be remotely ‘easy,’ Merlin.” Cayleb looked at him levelly. “The only thing it’s going to be is absolutely necessary … assuming Bahrns can pull it off.” The emperor shook his head. “I can hardly believe you came up with it even now.”

Merlin shrugged, his own eyes still distant as he watched Delthak and the other ships easing alongside their tows.

“At least the weather looks good for the run to Ranshair,” he said. “That’s something. But Wyrshym’s going to reach Guarnak tomorrow. Even if everything works perfectly, Bahrns isn’t going to be in time to keep him from hammering the Sylmahn Gap before Kynt can get there. It’s all going to be up to General Stohnar’s people.”

“That would’ve been the case even without this,” Cayleb replied, waving one hand in a gesture that took in the maneuvering ironclads he, unlike Merlin, could barely have seen with his own merely human eyes from where they stood. “You couldn’t have changed it any more than I could. And even if he manages to push all the way through and take Serabor, he may have to pull back if this works.”

“And he may not, too.” Merlin’s voice was flat. “He’s a determined man, Cayleb, and he knows exactly how critical Serabor is. If he gets his hands on it before we can stop him, he’s not going to let go even if he has to starve half the rest of his army to hold onto it.”

“Then Stohnar’s just going to have to hold.” Cayleb reached up to lay a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “We’ve done everything we can, Merlin. As Maikel says, at some point we simply have to trust God to do His part, too.”

“Then I just hope He’s listening,” Merlin said softly. “I just hope He’s listening.”