"Walter Jon Williams - Consequences" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Walter John)

simultaneously."
The boy's look was disbelieving. "As you like, sir."
Derec gave him a wry grin. "For form's sake, Randem."
"Aye aye, sir. For form's sake."
Signal flags rose on the halyards, but none of the convoy bothered an
acknowledgment: the merchanters had no confidence in the ship's fighting
abilities and were looking out for themselves. Derec shrugged. This was
nothing more than he expected. At least they were clearing out and leaving an
empty sea between _Birdwing_ and the enemy.
_Birdwing_ gave a shuddering roll as it staggered down the face of a
wave; Derec swayed to compensate and almost lost his balance. His heavy
breastplate and helmet were adding unaccustomed weight to his upper body. The
helmet straps were pressing uncomfortably on his brass earrings, and the
helmet was warming in the sun, turning into an oven.
Carefully Derec calculated his course and the enemy's. The wind was
holding a point north of west: the convoy had been moving roughly north along
the general trend of land. The enemy squadron was racing under oars and sail
as close to the wind as their characteristics permitted: they were trying to
gain as much westing as possible so as not to be pinned between _Birdwing_ and
the coast. Their course was more or less northwest: _Birdwing_ was moving
nor'-nor'east on a converging tack. Unless something prevented it, the ships
would brush at the intersection of their paths; and then the enemy would be to
windward of the _Birdwing_, which was just where they wanted to be.
At which point, Derec thought confidently, they were going to suffer a
terrible surprise.
_Birdwing_'s crew were already at quarters; they'd been doing a gun
drill when the enemy appeared. There was nothing to do but wait.
"Wizard's compliments, sir." Facer was back, his leather-and-iron cap
doffed at the salute. "The enemy is attempting a spell."
"Thank you, Facer." Suddenly the brisk warm breeze blew chill on
Derec's neck. He turned to face the enemy, touched his amulet of Thurn Bel,
and summoned his power.
Awareness flooded his mind. He could feel the protective shields that
Levett, _Birdwing_'s wizard, had wound around the ship; from eastward he could
feel a strong attempt to penetrate those shields. Derec called his power to
him, but held it in reserve in case the onslaught was a feint. The attack
faded grudgingly before Levett's persistent defense, then disappeared.
Whatever it was, the probe had failed. Levett's protective spells remained
intact, on guard.
That was the strategy Derec and Levett had formed weeks ago. The
wizard's magic would remain defensive, and _Birdwing_'s bronze cannon would
bring the war to the enemy.
Derec let his hand fall from his amulet. He saw his officers standing
around him expectantly; he gave them a smile. "Done," he said. "We're safe for
the moment." He saw them breathe easier.
He looked at the enemy. Brightness winked from the enemy's decks:
marines in their polished armor. He could hear the thud of kettledrums and
crash of cymbals as the enemy quartermasters beat time for the rowers. A mile
to leeward, in deeper, bluer water now, the galleasses were laboring in the
steep sea, the smaller one having a particularly hard time of it.