Down to the Sea Read Free Page B

left his stateroom and strode onto the foredeck of his flagship, the great battle cruiser Halanaga. A triumphal roar, echoing from half a thousand of his followers, greeted his appearance; clenched fists raised heavenward in salute.
    His gaze swept the assembly, and then he lifted his eyes to the fleet of nearly a hundred ships, which even now was steaming out to sea. Fast-moving frigates plowed through the curling waves, spray soaring up, catching the early morning sun in what seemed to be showers of bright red rubies cascading across the decks. Billowing clouds of black smoke coiled from stacks, whipping out to windward, and water foamed up from astern as the frigates leapt forward to take position at the van of the armada.
    Behind them rode the armored cruisers, several of the older ships still sporting masts, which this morning were stripped of sails. And finally came his ship and the five other great battle cruisers of the fleet of the Blue Banner.
    Crevaga Harbor, known to the human cattle who inhabited it as Crete, already lay astern, the smoking ruins of their city a beacon that he knew would draw the fleet of the Red Banner as surely as the scent of rotten carrion drew the eaters of the dead. The human city had been under the direct control of his brother since its coal mines were a precious source of fuel for his fleet. The maneuvers of the last six months, the sweeping of the Cretan Isles, the destruction of his brother’s base of supplies and human slaves, had changed the course of the war, shifting the balance back to his favor. The long-anticipated final confrontation would be today, deciding whether he would hold the throne or his brother, Yasim the Usurper, would gain ascendancy.
    The roaring cheers of his faithful echoed and reechoed, picked up by the other ships cruising nearby. A light frigate, racing at full steam, cut across the stern of his ship, plowing through the wake, bow shooting high into the air to come crashing down in an explosion of spray. The Shiv warriors, humans bred by the Holy Order of the Shiv, lined the deck with raised fists, their distant cries echoing.
    He acknowledged their salutes, but his heart turned cold at the sight of them. The Order had been the one winner throughout this conflict, which had pitted the family of Zartak against itself. Five brothers had turned against one another, and now there were only two, Yasim and himself. But always the cult of the Shiv had been there, claiming holy neutrality and slowly gaining in power.
    He had paid handsomely for their services, draining his coffers for warriors and for the assassins who had dispatched two of his brothers and various cousins. Once today was finished, there would be the reckoning with the Shiv. It was already planned, and he would see it through to its bloody conclusion.
    He looked over his shoulder at the temple room, located just aft of the forward bridge. Hazin, his personal priest from the Order, had stepped on to the bridge, trailed by a steaming cloud of sweet-smelling incense. In his hands was the Holy Gir, the text of the Prophet Vishta, He who had walked between the stars.
    As Hazin held the book aloft, all fell silent. Many fell to their knees and lowered their heads as Hazin, in the ancient tongue, called for the blessing. Hanaga endured the ritual. It was, after all, part of the game of power. The prayer finished, he stood back up and lowered his head to kiss the sacred text then turned to face the assembly.
    “Today is the day we will claim victory!” he cried, and lusty cheers greeted his words.
    “Today is the day we have striven for, the day that shall end the bitter strife caused by all those of my clan who wish to claim the empire. After today, my comrades, there shall be an end to it. We shall go home and again know peace.”
    “Signal from frigate Cinuvia , my lord.”
    One of the signal commanders stood respectfully at his side, hesitant to interrupt. Hanaga nodded for him to continue, even