The Blood of Gods A Novel of Rome - By Conn Iggulden Page 0,123

for him. They were no more than a mile away and he could read the flags flashing between them. He nodded as the order for ‘Attack speed’ went up on what must be their flagship. There. Whoever commanded them was in the very centre.

‘That one is ours,’ he yelled. ‘Signal “back oars”, “turn” and “attack”!’

It took time to send, but Agrippa’s galleys had seen his signal to prepare and reacted at great speed. In just moments, they went from running before the enemy to a dead stop in the water and then began the slow turn, where they were most vulnerable. If the enemy could reach them as they presented their flanks, they would be near helpless. Agrippa saw the enemy galleys accelerate like birds taking flight, churning up the sea. They were too late. Agrippa’s galleys faced them head-on, leaping forward as the oars swept down and back once more.

The two fleets came together at a terrifying pace.

‘Gods, there are so many of them!’ Maecenas said, gripping the rail with his knuckles showing white.

Agrippa did not respond, his eyes taking in every detail against the glare of the sun. It was not as simple as each of his ships taking two of the enemy. He knew that if he could destroy their command ship and scatter the others, if he could just survive the first clash, he had a chance.

He called over one of the helmsmen, who passed control of the galley to another while Agrippa pointed out the ship he wanted. The man squinted into the sunlight and took a bearing, then raced back to the stern to guide them in. Agrippa could have just roared his orders from the prow back to him – the galleys were short enough – but he wanted to be accurate.

His small fleet would strike up the centre; they had no other choice. The enemy would flank them immediately, but galleys were not as responsive as legion manoeuvres. To sink his ships, they had to ram at speed or lock the galleys together with a corvus bridge and get on board.

The fleets raced closer and Agrippa could only hope he had prepared his men well enough. The first test at sea was one of nerve, with opposing captains shouting orders left and right to guide them in and outguess the other man. Agrippa swallowed hard. The first weapon was his own ship, which could strip the oars from an enemy as it ripped past, killing half the rowers on one side – if he guessed correctly. If he got it wrong, a head-on collision, prow to prow, could sink them both before a single sword was drawn.

He found himself panting in fear and exhilaration as he saw the enemy captain with an arm wrapped around the prow. Agrippa could see the oars plunging back and forth. He knew legion commanders preferred to dip left from instinct, presenting their right side and their strongest arm to an enemy. Yet he did not know if the galley was commanded by a legion man or one of Sextus Pompey’s pirates.

‘Ready corvus bridge!’ he roared. ‘Ready harpax!’ The grapnel teams exulted in the name they had chosen for his new weapon. The ‘robbers’ would steal whole ships if they could make them work in the chaos of a battle.

All around, his fleet was meeting the enemy, but Agrippa had to focus on just one galley as it soared towards him. If his nerve went and he turned too early, the other captain would have a clear shot at his side and the ram would smash through, holing him below the waterline. Agrippa counted down in his head as the ships raced in without slowing. At fifty paces apart, the other galley had not deviated an inch and Agrippa knew suddenly that the man in command would not move off course, arrogantly certain that his opponent would turn and run. He could not have said how he knew, except for the rock-steady course he followed.

‘Agrippa?’ Maecenas said quietly, watching the approaching galley with sick fascination.

‘Not yet,’ Agrippa muttered.

He made his decision in the last instant, leaving it as late as he could.

‘Oars in port side! Now! Oars up on the free!’

On the left side, where a ship unloaded in a port, the oars came in smartly, heaved across the knees of the rowers. On the free side opposite, the oars came out of the water so the galley could stay on course. The helmsmen pushed the steering