Once upon a dreadful time

from the fore, then came about along the windward side of the Sea Eagle and deliberately luffed a sail to match the slower speed of the larger ship. Her captain called out through his voice horn, “My Lord Chevell, a point to the fore and just beyond the larboard horizon the corsairs run in a line on a beam reach.”

“How many?” called Chevell through his own megaphone.

“Two dozen, my lord: all two-masted dhows.”

“And their course?”

“Some three points to dusk of starwise.”

Chevell turned to his first officer. “Lieutenant Jourdan, run up the signals: all ships to come about, and to the starboard, away from the corsair line, for I would not have the foe know we are in these waters.”

“Our course, my lord?” asked the small, dark-haired man.

“Three points to dusk of starwise. And have the line fall in behind the Eagle. We will run parallel to and out of sight of these brigands until I have relayed the battle plan to all commanders.”

“Oui, my lord.”

Chevelle looked at Delon, captain of the marines in the fleet.

“They are on a direct course for Port Mizon, and have six more ships than we, as well as Changelings aboard.”

The tall redhead shrugged and tapped the hilt of his sword and said, “Changelings to behead and turn into slime.” Chevell then took up his voice horn and called down to the sloop. “Captain Benoit, run along our line and make certain that all captains understand my orders: to come about to the starboard and fall in a line behind the Eagle. Too, have Captain Armond and the Hawk take the midmost position in the file.”

“Oui, my lord. Is there ought else?”

“As soon as you have relayed the signal to the fleet to come about, have the Sandpiper and the Gull as well as your ship stand ready to dispatch the battle plan. -Now, go.” The Tern cinched up the luffed sail and ran up her own signal flags to echo those now flying on the Eagle, then came about and hauled to the windward of the remaining ships, pausing at each to relay Chevell’s orders.

And with each ship in Avelar’s fleet wearing around the wind, soon all had fallen in behind the Eagle, now heading in the direction of Port Mizon.

Two candlemarks or so later, the remaining scout ships-the sloop Sandpiper and the schooner Gull-came back into view from their duskwise and sunwise runs, and slowly they overtook the fleet, and shortly thereafter were ready to dispatch the battle plan.

“We have two advantages,” said Chevell to Marine Captain Delon, “one, they know not we are here, and, two, ’tis the dark of the moon and the night will be black.”

“A night attack, then?”

“Not quite, Captain. Instead, I plan to ambush the foe, to run toward the enemy in the predawn marks and come upon them just as dawn twilight fills the sky.” Chevell unrolled a chart, and he placed twenty-four markers in a line upon it. “Here is the enemy fleet, with six more ships than we have. -And here is our force somewhat ahead and to their larboard.” Chevell then placed eighteen markers in a parallel line on the left and to the fore of the enemy. “Now, Captain, just as will we, in the night the foe will be running with fore and aft lanterns to maintain their line.”

“But if we run with lanterns,” said Captain Delon, “they will see us- Ah, wait, you plan to course upon them unlighted, oui?”

Chevell smiled. “Just so, Captain, just so. -You see, on command, we will extinguish all our own fore and aft lanterns and swing starboard, and, with a following wind, we bear down upon them”-Chevell began moving the markers-“the last ship in our line taking on the last ship in their line, and our next to last taking their next to last, and so on. As we come into range in the dark, we will loose fire upon them, and slice behind their sterns, raking their decks with our own broadside fire as we pass through their line, like so, and then swing

’round to their starboard wales and grapple, and your marines will board the foe. If we have planned it just right, that should occur in the twilight of the oncoming dawn.”

“But, my lord,” said Lieutenant Jourdan, “if each one of our eighteen takes on eighteen of theirs”-he pointed to the leading corsair markers-“that leaves six of the enemy ships unengaged.”

“Oui, Lieutenant, but those six ships are the six to the fore, and given their maneuverability and rate they sail, it will take them a full candlemark ere they can wear ’round and come at us, and by that time we should be ready for them.”

“Ah, clever, my lord,” said Delon. “Now I see why we take on the eighteen from the rear rather than from the front: ’tis to keep those six out of the fray for as long as possible.” Chevell nodded. But then the marine captain frowned. “My lord, the plan depends upon bearing down swiftly upon them, yet what if the wind shifts?”

“ ’Tis unlikely, Captain, for this is the season of the steady trades, and we are to the windward of them.”

“My lord,” said Jourdan, grinning, “they ought to call you the Fox of the Sea.”

Chevell laughed, but quickly sobered. “ ’Twill not be an easy task, yet I ween we can catch them by surprise. Even so, they are not to be taken lightly, for not only are they able seamen skilled with cutlasses, but aboard their ships is an army of Changelings as well.”

. .

The Tern, Sandpiper, and the Gull swiftly relayed the battle plan unto all captains, and the three scout ships waited until darkness, and, taking turns, kept track of the enemy fleet.

In the meanwhile, Chevell calculated: he knew that the sun would broach the horizon five and a half candlemarks after mid of night; yet enough dawnlight to see and be seen would occur a full candlemark ere then, and so he added that into his figures; too, he took into account the lead the king’s fleet had over the corsairs, as well as the distance between the parallel courses of the two fleets-some twenty-two nautical miles.

And given the wind speed and the rate at which the slowest ship in the king’s fleet could close upon the foe, he reckoned that just after the midnight mark, they would have to turn on the intercept course. He relayed these figures to the other vessels, and he commanded his captains to set their sails so that all would come upon the foe simultaneously, or at least that was the plan; hence the slowest ship would run full out, while the others would reef their sails enough to match that pace.

And they hove on.

And the scouts brought word that the foe, as was their wont, yet sailed in a straight line, all benefiting from the wind on the beam.

And the constant trades blew.

And the ships of friend and foe alike sliced through the waters, one fleet knowing the other was there, one fleet sailing in ignorance.

Finally, a half candlemark after mid of night under the dark of the moon, Chevell gave the signal.

And ships turned on an intercept course, and then extinguished their bow and stern lanterns.

Risky was the plan, for close-sailing in a fleet in darkness could lead to collisions, yet Chevell had planned for that, for he kept a hooded lantern on the larboard and starboard of each ship, with orders to extinguish them the moment the top lookouts spotted the fore and aft lanterns of the foe.

And, so through the darkness did they sail, keeping their own line by the dim glimmers of hooded lights abeam.

Some two candlemarks after turning on the intercept course, the lanterns of the foe came into view of the lookouts, and the hooded lanterns of the king’s fleet were extinguished. And moments later, the enemy’s lights became visible to the men adeck.

Captains now counted the enemy ships, and struck courses on their own, each aiming his ship on an intercept heading to take on the foe assigned.

“Remember, men,” said Captain Delon to his contingent of marines, “cut off the head of a Changeling, and he turns to slime. It is something about their shape-shifting nature that causes such to be.”

And as Captain Delon instructed his immediate command, his lieutenants did the same on the other ships, all the marines well-trained in grappling and boarding and combat.