DeFrosted

Chapter 42

(Kristof )

The cannons boomed from beneath the belly of the Guardian. Causing the entire deck to wobble at each blast as we fired onto the horde armada.

The seasickness in my stomach that I had finally fought off after the 6 and a half hour sailing, was now being replaced by nerves. I feared for Anna, would we make it to her in time? I also dreaded the slaughter ahead.

The weight of deed I had done this morning was heavy on my heart. I know I had done what was needed to be done. For queen and country. I was no pansy.  But killing goes against everything my family raised me by. I knew more killing is something I'd more then likely have to do today,  I know It must be done, I must protect the woman I love,  but deep down inside, I didn't know if I could. 

I have an arm securely wrapped around Svens neck. The loud blasts of the cannonballs being ejected frightened him. "I know buddy." I soothed. "This isn't my ideal Friday either. "

"More speed!" Barks Hans. "Angle the ship, concentrate on the smaller vessels first. Spare no ammunition. "  The Royal expertly leads the troops. I had to admit, I was impressed.  Good or evil, he was born for the job. Even if he was the last link on the royal chain.

A cannonball whizzed just inches from us. "Get that animal down!" The commodore yells at me. It was getting dangerous up here. "You heard the man." I nudge Sven with my elbow and he quickly scampers behind the upper deck wall.

Feeling the need to do something, I sprint over to Hans. "Man the upper deck cannons." He orders and all the men who weren't below deck operating the cannons, slide down from the sails they were adjusting, and run for the extra cannons, those  which lined the outskirts of the upper deck. 10 large black black metal black metal machines  on each side of the boat.

"How can I help? " I asked. He glances between me and the only unmanned cannon, then back to me.  "How's your aim?"

Before I know it I'm basing a cannon. Hans loads the barrel and presses the fodder while I light the fuse and aim.  " Aim for the lower hull, so the ship will take on water once hit. " His words ring through my mind as I swivel the black hunk of metal and take aim.

"The men know this is basically a suicide mission right?" I ask. "Yes." He responds, busy with his work, lifting the ball into the barrel.  "Do you?" I strike the fuse as I question.  He looks straight at me as he wipes the grease off his hands and onto his breaches.  "It's better to die for something then to live for nothing at all." Then he smirks. "We all gotta go eventually right? I think I finally found a reason worth it."

A cheer of victory resonated from the Guardian when the second fleet ship started to take on water. Thanks to our firepower.  It's enemy crew abandoning ship, diving into the water and swimming for the island.

But the moment of victory was quickly dispersed with the ear splitting sound of a cannon ball crashing into the port hull. The side of the front of the ship.  Wood splintering and flying into the sea below.

"Dodge and weave. Release all the sails.  We must take on the mother ship! " Hans called up to the Commodore who held the helm, the giant wooden wheel that steered the Guardian.

The nautical skills of these islanders never ceased to amaze me. They expertly out run the heavier, bulkier viking ships and close in on the mother ship. The giant monster ship coming closer and closer. it's blood red sails looming like a bad omen.

"Aim for the rudder." He orders the cannon operators at the bow of the ship. "So they can't turn towards us."  The 6 cannons at the front end all aim for the rudder, the blade on the back of the ship that controls the steering.  Which sits just below the surface of the water.