Eadulf was speechless. Fire that could not be put out by water? It was terrifying. Barbaric. No wonder Heraclius had been guarding the secret so closely.
There was a strange whistling sound through the air as the enemy archers released their first salvo. The range was closing and several arrows embedded themselves into the ship.
Once more Eadulf heard the bang of the hammer striking the pin and felt the slight shudder of the ship beneath him as Heraclius’ infernal weapon was released.
This time the clay ball fragmented on the forward deck of the oncoming vessel, and it erupted in flame. He could hear the cries of alarm from the enemy, saw men running forward with buckets of water. But even as he watched, he saw how the water merely pushed the flame here and there, and made no impact on dousing it.
Bleidbara’s crew let out a cheer. A sharp word from Bleidbara and they fell silent; another command and the archers lining the portside of the vessel took aim and, as one man, released their flight of arrows. Screams echoed across the water, showing that some of them had found targets.
For a third time Heraclius and his men made ready their onager and released it. This time, the terrible contents of the clay ball fell in the centre of the main deck and that was soon ablaze.
Six of the clay balls had been brought onto the deck and already Heraclius was superintending the loading of a fourth in his machine.
Bleidbara shouted to him: a call to pause. Stepping to the rail, and using his hands as a trumpet to project his voice, Bleidbara called across to the vessel where the flames were catching hold of the timbers. Eadulf presumed it was a call for the Koulm ar Maro to surrender. The answer came in a shower of arrows, one of which struck a crew member, and even as he fell, Eadulf saw he was beyond assistance.
Bleidbara signalled to Heraclius again. Once more came the ominous shudder and the projectile could be seen striking the stern of the vessel near the helm before the area erupted in flame.
Bleidbara was shouting to his own helmsman who pulled the vessel over, edging it near the burning Koulm ar Maro. Once again, he was calling on his enemy to surrender — without response. Eadulf peered into the mass of flame now spreading over its decks, trying to search out the slight figure in white that he remembered so well. There was no sign of him among those running to and fro on the deck, trying to put out the flames that roared inexorably around them. There seemed to be no one in command, for the enemy crew appeared in confusion. Some tried to put out the flames while others wielded swords in futile gestures towards the closing vessel. Others still tried to shoot their bows, seeming to get in each other’s way.
Eadulf was gazing in horror at the terrible inferno. Suddenly an awesome thought came to his mind.
‘Trifina! What if the lady Trifina is a prisoner on board?’
Bleidbara stared at him aghast, his face white despite the reflected glow of the flames. In his battle fever, he had forgotten about Trifina.
Bleidbara shouted again, yet another demand for surrender, but an arrow whistled by his face and embedded itself into a spar nearby. Had Eadulf been standing closer, it would have found a target in him. Heraclius had released yet another of his terrifying clay balls into the ship, where it burst against the central mast, the flames roaring upwards as if racing to get to the top of it.
The entire deck of the Koulm ar Maro was a hungry sea of flames. Here and there, some men were jumping overboard, some with their clothes alight — which were not put out even when the unfortunates struck the water.
Bleidbara turned to his helmsman with a swift order and the helm went over.
‘We are hauling off from her,’ he explained to Eadulf. ‘This fire is too much. We must save ourselves from her flames.’
Eadulf could still see men jumping from the decks of the sea-raider. But he saw no sign of the slight figure in white that he was hoping to spot. He prayed that Trifina was not a prisoner on that dying ship. Some of Bleidbara’s crew had brought out long wooden poles and were using them to push the ship away from the sides of the burning vessel. They swung free, their sails filling again as they clawed across the waves, distancing themselves from the blazing inferno. Within a few moments they could see little resemblance to the fighting ship that they had approached. The hungry flames were all-consuming; decks, bows and the entire hull of the vessel seemed to be one pyre of crackling flame.
Having secured the remaining clay balls below deck, Heraclius came trotting back along the deck to join Eadulf. There was a strange, rather sad expression on his face.
‘So that was what you didn’t want us to find?’ Eadulf commented dryly.
‘It is something my father developed for our emperor, Constantinos. It is something that I hope no one else discovers.’
‘A terrible weapon,’ Eadulf agreed heavily. ‘No one could stand against that.’
Then: ‘Look!’ cried Heraclius. ‘Look at that!’
Everyone stood watching in silence. There was a strange gurgling sound. As they stood, fascinated and unable to tear their eyes away, the gurgling grew louder and the flames suddenly ceased. Against the darkness of the island there was nothing to be seen, not even a glimmer of fire, just a pall of smoke rising above the waters and dispersing in the breeze. The sea-raider had sunk with such abruptness that it was as if the vessel, even blazing as it was, had simply vanished. Swallowed into the hungry maw of the sea.
Bleidbara was calling orders and the crew swarmed up the rigging to the sails while the helmsman put the tiller hard over.
‘We are putting the ship about to see if there are any survivors,’ Heraclius explained.
‘From that?’ Eadulf shook his head sadly. Surely there was little hope.
Amazingly, contrary to his expectation, some people had escaped unscathed; they were dragged from the water. Soaked and demoralised, they were brought aft to be questioned by Bleidbara.
‘Ask them if the lady Trifina was on board,’ Eadulf reminded him, although such a reminder was unnecessary.
Only one of the prisoners answered Bleidbara — and that only in monosyllables. Bleidbara struck him twice across the face, making Eadulf wince. He hated such brutality but had to admit that if it forced the man to speak, perhaps it was justified. Even so, the man was still defiant and his expression was one of hatred.
‘He says there is a woman on the other ship,’ Bleidbara interpreted.
‘What other ship?’ demanded Eadulf. ‘The Barnacle Goose?’
The prisoner shrugged and Bleidbara was shouting at him again. Eadulf could not understand what was being said although a word that sounded like ‘looverdee’ was repeated several times.
In fact, Bleidbara grew quite violent with the man at this, grabbing him by the throat and thrusting his face within an inch of the prisoner’s own. He shook him like a dog might shake a rabbit, and Eadulf could hear the man’s teeth rattle.
The prisoner was still defiant but responded, repeating the word ‘looverdee’. Bleidbara turned to Eadulf.
‘He says the other ship is hidden on an island called Enez Lovrdi, which means the Leper’s Island.’
‘Do you know it?’ asked Eadulf.
‘I do. It is a small island not far from here — once used for lepers to dwell in, isolated from the rest of the communities. There is an old, grey-stone fortress there but it is no longer habitable.’ Bleidbara seemed annoyed with himself. ‘I had never thought to search there. People generally shun the island. So that is where the Koulm ar Maro was hidden all this time.’
‘Well,’ Eadulf said with grim satisfaction, ‘let us go and collect the Barnacle Goose. Where is the young captain, the one in white? Did he perish with the ship?’