Waves rolled fiercely under the sides of the Perseverance as Riko held the spyglass steady. High above him, wind pushed through the sails like a dying breath, the faint groan of strained wood echoing down the masts. Ahead, sea and sky met in a blur of grey, broken only by what loomed ahead.

  "Thirty-five ships," Riko muttered, adjusting the focus. "At least."

  "Twenty-eight preparing for engagement confirmed, sir," said Navigator Ibban without looking up from the chart, his fingers gliding across inked coastlines. “But there's a group of at least five moving to the southern banks.”

  Riko shifted the lens, scanning southeast. "Colors?"

  "Tampra flags. I cannot foresee any outcome for this manoeuvre that can affect us. Not with this winds." Ibban’s tone was dry, but it cracked slightly at the edges. "My guess? They don't want to get involved."

  From above came a sharp whistle. One of the scouts, barely visible from the crow’s perch, signalled. Moments later, the voice of Quartermaster Timo bellowed from the middeck.

  "Confirmed. Harpy's ships engaged the fortress."

  Riko narrowed his eyes. “Not much, but enough to change the tide if they turn back after we reach.”

  "I wouldn't worry about them, captain. With lines formed, they won't have aim unless they pass along their own line. " Ibban added, his finger tapping over the chart. “That will give us time to rearrange positions. If We sail north and engage from the left we will have the wind advantage.”

  Riko peeked through the navy ahead. Behind, flashes flared from Male’s fortress tower, each boom a dull pulse in the sea’s gut. The closest ships had turned, hulls listing hard under strain.

  "Their line is ready but bows facing north, slow sailing to cover the city's entrance!" Timo barked as he approached, voice full of optimism. "It’s a solid chain but most ships are sixth-rates or lower. They have the numbers but we have the firepower."

  "They definitely expect we'll come from the left," Ibban added. “They want their most powerful ships to dent us before facing their smaller ships. With a more favourable wind, we'll make a quick pass. Once we've done so, their vanguard will turn to follow us, catching us from behind. Even so, it's a better option to put up with that than to align from the south. With a slow wind, we'll be caught in an even more precarious position as soon as they turn.”

  Riko lowered the glass and rolled his shoulders, letting the decision settle like salt on his skin.

  "Our formation is ragged,” Timo said. “Should I give orders to line up, Captain?”

  “The steel Kraken is hot on our sails.” Ibban's chin raised towards Male. “If they haven't caught us yet it's not because they couldn't. That's an anvil, and they are a hammer ready to smash us from behind.”

  Riko didn’t answer immediately. The Perseverance groaned under a cross-gust. Her canvas billowed wide. He stepped forward, gripping the gunwale, eyes scanning the surroundings where his fleet sailed without any formation. The bulk of his navy now drifted perilously close, the enemy ships piled together in an unbroken line along the starboard bow, their cannon hatches gaping like hungry jaws.

  "Should we form our line, sir?" Timo pressed. "We are getting out of time."

  "Ney." Riko turned slowly, eyes flint hard. “We form two.”

  Silence followed. Even the wind seemed to pause, waiting.

  "Two?" Timo blinked. “You want to engage from both sides?”

  Ibban’s brow creased. “Ney… It can't be that. When we meet in the centre, we'll disturb each other! It's suicide and the Riko knows it. What is it?”

  "We'll lead the left line," Riko said. "Inform Captain Justin's Black Raven to second us. Right line with the Revenge in front and another copper-plated vessel behind in case the leading one doesn't hold up."

  Timo scratched his hair, mumbling barely able to form a sentence. "So, do we meet in the middle and try to crack through their line? Or retreat?"

  Ibban snapped his teeth. "Wrong again, kid. We engage the vanguard to halt them and the second line bears the right to engage the main line. With all respect sir, but—"

  "You’re mistaken as well," Riko's lips pulled slightly up. "That’s exactly what they expect us to do. But we’re going to change course at the last minute. On my signal, we’ll adjust thirty degrees starboard to catch the optimal wind. Then we strike; not in line but straight up front, Like a cannonball on a hull. Between the first and second thirds of their line. We’ll divide them cleanly.”

  He stepped toward the map, tapping points along the projected course.

  “As we pass through, the following ship will break formation and force their way through the next gap. Double shots from both sides at the moment we breach. Once across, we will be at their starboard side.”

  Ibban’s expression briefly eased into a smile. "So their ships will give us cover from their Vanguard and the coming Kraken navy!"

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  “If their vanguard turns to port, as their current formation suggests, they’ll find only their own line. If they shift starboard instead, they’ll run out of manoeuvring room; space between ships and shoals near the city is too tight.”

  “What about the other ships attacking the city?" Ibban said. "They’ll likely turn back to reinforce.”

  “If they do, we engage them at close range. Grapeshot and boarding teams. We’ll take the fight to their decks.”

  "Bold, insane and clever." Ibban slapped Timo's shoulder and grinned. "I love it! Start giving orders, boy! Greatness or death awaits us!"

  Timo shuffled back with uncertain strides, his muttered words just loud enough to carry. "Mad bastards, the lot of you."

  Ibban exhaled a low, displeased growl towards the quartermaster, but Riko chuckled.

  As quarters closed, the enemy line grew like the blackened teeth of a monster from the deep. Close enough now so one could see small details: differences that made each ship unique.

  The attackers' fleet had swiftly moved to two lines even under a wind far from desirable. The moment of turning, a moment of truth, at one wave of Riko's arm. He tensed.

  The enemy didn't wait to be deceived to show their power. A ripple of smoke flared from the farthest hulls to the closest. Harsh, premature, desperate. Cannonballs splashed short of their mark, crashing into white-capped swells in a thunder of water and foam. The aim of the furthest vessels reached even way beyond worry.

  The splashing of the second volley surrounded the Perseverance like a storm, but Riko didn’t flinch. Only his hand moved, triggering a set of yells to order manoeuvre.

  Wind howled through the rigging, filling sails that strained with each gust. The fleet moved as two sea snakes prepared to bite.

  The enemy, caught by surprise, took a long time to shoot again. But they did. This time, closer than ever. Rounds hit the Perseverance straight on the bow. Twice.

  The next pierced sails and shattered the deck. "Hold your positions, fellas!" Riko screamed without succumbing to fear.

  Across the waves, more flashes sparked as the enemy line struggled to readjust aim without losing its shape. No matter how fast Riko's fleet would move, no matter how unprepared they caught them, the closer they got, the more dangerous the barrage would become.

  Timo was shouting again, relaying orders down the decks, waving signal flags high above to the trailing vessels. Riko kept his eyes forward, letting the noise of men and war wash over him like rain. Every nerve in his body pulled taut as a bow string. There was nothing else he could do but to show courage. Hiding behind cover would only bring doubt to his men.

  Ibban looked around the rigging. “Time to pray, sir!”

  The next round reached as fast as the thunder of its blastings. Wood cracked to the punishment. A splint cut through Riko's face like a dagger made of steel. "Ready for fire!"

  Perseverance creaked hard to port as the current tugged against her hull. Wind tore at the sails, as they adjusted to the little readjustment. One last squeeze using the force that had brought them there to place themselves completely perpendicular. Riko's ship was already in position, enemy ships in the stern bow and starboard bow waters. Even so, more bursts landed. Of all of them, a direct hit to the centre of the bow shook the entire ship.

  "Bounce!" a man shouted from the front. "But she's filling below the line! I need more pumping!"

  “Bring us between them, Ibban!!” Riko roared. “Now!”

  The Perseverance surged through the gap, masts groaning. To left and right, crews buzzed around like bees on a broken beehive. Close enough to hear the screams and shouts of frenzy and fear.

  “Fire!” Riko said.

  Twin blasts erupted from both sides of the Perseverance. Through a cloud, balls of metal flew to tear through the bow and stern without compassion. The impacts, scream of rending oak. Both ships caught the full weight of the Perseverance's full broadsides; men scattered, deck torn open, fire blooming at the edges.

  Cheers rang out from the Perseverance’s deck, but Riko didn’t join them. Didn't welcome them either. "Hold your joy, fellas! The second burst… ready! Now!"

  Smoke curled across the water with a second blast, cloaking the wreckages like fog. On the crippled ships, enemy crew scrambled to abandon gun positions, others pulling at ropes to pivot the damaged vessels.

  At his side, Revenge had done the same, with the same results. Further, Riko's ships were all reaching their gaps.

  The enemy line was shattered and in the distance, their vanguard sailed in disarray without knowing which way to turn. It all had just unfolded as he’d planned, but it didn't mean a thing. There was a lot more to do. South East, the reinforcements were already on the way. Riko rushed to find his scout between fluttering sails and hanging ropes.

  "The Kraken is over the horizon, cap'n! Approaching full speed!"

  “We're through!” Ibban called, eyes wide, voice tight with disbelief. “It’s working!”

  "Pass them now and relocate to engage the incoming ships!"

  Ibban’s smile vanished. “The spacing… damn it… We won't have much room for ourselves here!”

  “No time or space to wait for the rest!” Riko said. “All ships at full sail to engage as soon as work here is done. Let's do it, fellas!”

  The roar of the men had not been banished yet, and a blast from behind turned the deck into a shower of splinters and dust. The enemy was injured, but not dead. And his starboard sides had been prepared faster than expected.

  Before Riko could speak, a fresh thunder tore through the air. The Perseverance main cracked, and carrying with it sails and rigging, crumbled into the sea at their side.

  "Cut dead weight!" Riko commanded. "And keep going!"

  "Sir, pumping is not working!" said a voice from around the chaos. "We are sinking!"

  Behind, one of the enemy ships was ablaze, the other turning aside, doomed to sink. On the other side, the colour of the sea turned azure, a warning of its dangers. Ahead, from the city’s entrance, ships sailed towards them faster than expected, The leading ship, a forty-gun old man-o-war of yellowed sails and greenish hull. A huge banner with the Harpy’s shape flickering in the wind.

  "Master Ibban, moving ahead with the ease of wind and the blessing of the gods." Riko wiped his face. As he felt the stickiness on his palm, he realized the torso of his white shirt had turned red. "I'm claiming that one as a prize. Or else, we take her with us to the abyss."