Olioorin sat in the captain's cabin of his beloved Ruuigriloo. He could hear the hammering and calls as she underwent a subtle but dangerous Metamorphosis. Benjamin had delivered his training evolutions as promised, but He also brought a diagram of Olioorin’s own vessel but modified to carry these new… cannon. There was little in the way of argument as to the modifications, and Olioorin instantly understood why it was the best deployment of these new weapons about his command. There were too few cannons to place them strictly on the sides. So, the fore deck and after castle were currently being laid with extra timber to support the weight of one cannon each. The Idea was simple, Combat on the rolling salts took time to be joined, time enough for the fore-gun, and after-gun to be rotated to present to the enemy, but retain the ability to shoot in front, or directly behind them. Meanwhile, one of each of the remaining two cannons would be emplaced amidships. In theory, the preamble of any sea battle would allow Olioorin to order the swiveling of his for and after guns to present to the correct side to give himself what Benjamin called a “three cannon battery” to fight with. It was a terrifyingly simple strategy, one which forced the Aquilar Captain to wonder why and how anyone had not thought of it sooner.

A slow triplicate of knocks echoed through his cabin’s door, “Come” he called, and sat back in his chair as the mysterious ‘not albino’ entered, “You asked to see me, Captain,” the strange man stated. “I did, sit.” Benjamin did as instructed, and simply sat patiently. “Benjamin, the preparations are almost complete. I wish to show you, our course.” The Aquilar reached for a piece of rolled parchment, unfurling it upon the table before them. It revealed their past route, along with a long crimson line painted in amongst the long, wide archipelago of barrier islands that spanned the east side of the main continent. “The red track is the known route that Lord Hirak’s vessel took in search of his prey. We seek to follow in his footsteps, to find him, or to find his resting place.

“I.. see… So, we risk walking into a trap…” Benjamin observed, “I admit that I am not the happiest at this revelation.” Olioorin snorted, “Indeed. However, with your new…." he paused a moment as a loud series of booms announced a training session, "revelations... we outmatch any single warship sailing the salts.” Benjamin shook his head, “We hope…” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “This doesn’t make sense… No one should have this yet. I very nearly refused to give you cannon technology…. This level of disparity of martial power is… dangerous… for this world.”

Olioorin took his focus away from the map, “And yet you gave it to the ascendency…” Benjamin gave Olioorin a sharp look, “I suspect that your Lord Regen is already well on his way to stealing this technology…I found certain items of my person…. Inspected… upon my leaving the capital…. The choice has been made for me.” The Towering Aquilar pierced Benjamin with an inspecting gaze, “And that choice is?” The being before him shrugged and changed the subject, “I would like to make one request… Stay in open water as much as possible. I was able to find a small vein of iron upon the island we tested the cannon on. We now have 60 round shots per gun, enough to practice with while we sail. It will also aid us in fighting with your new weapons. Can that be done?”

“In a way, I will keep that in mind as we continue,” Olioorin answered, “which brings me to this,” he pointed to the end of the line that terminated in a circle, “That is the last known location of His Lordship’s vessel. I’m assuming that you see what I do.” Benjamin leaned into the map, eyes narrowing in recognition. “Narrow, I think. What is this symbol?” Olioorin smiled in approval, “I knew you were of the salts, yes that is the symbol our fleets use to represent less than accurate charting. We don’t actually know precisely what is in there, only what we think is there.”

“All of that… is a fuckin guess?” Benjamin growled, “For all we know it’s a dead end with just that small entrance. It’s a death trap.” Olioorin only nodded, “It is… But what are our options.” Benjamin looked down at the map for several long moments, “The far side… we need a landing party on the far side to scout the area.” He tapped one of the shores on the western side of the Island, “Here. A small team, 4-6 total. They would move east until they found the inlet. I’m sure I can make some sort of… signal, that would let the team call for retrieval or sound the all clear.” Olioorin watched the map as Ben spoke. “None of my men have this kind of experience overlanding, and after.. I cannot ask you to do this on your own… but, If we take the inlet. We could at least see inside without significant risk of being cut off from more open water. I admit, it is almost as dangerous as your plan, but this way, Ruuigriloo would be much closer at hand… in theory.” Benjamin let out a low humm in contemplation… “It’s… risky, and ultimately your call, captain.” Olioorin nodded, “then we will take the narrows. Would you be willing to lead the land assault? I know I ask much of you, but… Our conversation has proven to me that you are the only logical choice for any hope of success.”

Benjamin looked down at the map, studying the terrain about the narrow pair of stubby peninsulas. “I… I’ll need the two lancers,” he was not sure if Olioorin knew or cared about their names, but it was what it was, “I would request you keep my mates onboard, but I suspect they will steadfastly refuse. How long do we have?” Olioorin sighed heavily, “A month at least. The added weight will slow Ruuigriloo, by how much I do not know. I can give you 3 crewmen to aid on shore. They will report to you as soon as we are underway. Go, make preparation.”

“I will, Captain,” Benjamin gave a small bow and departed. His soul boiled as he returned to his quarters. Once again, he and those he loved would be thrust into the heart of danger. The morbid thoughts drew his feet past his quarters and up upon deck, he saw the neatly stacked and lashed musket balls, and the freshly pressed gun crews were going through dry fire exercises. He picked up one of the cannon balls, hefting it in his hands for a moment as he remembered how he got here. His mind churned, wondering how he was going to lead in a fight, a fight where almost everyone was going to have wildly different… His thoughts paused and he looked down at the cannon ball in his hands.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Viola stood out on the aft deck of Ruuigriloo, holding her own freshly minted musket. She was not alone. She was still less than happy with her Benjamin. He had indeed tried to convince her and her sister to avoid the fight. Deep down, she understood her mate. He was hardforged to protect them, and he had protected them for the entirety of the time they had known him. She knew it hurt him to see her and Val throw themselves into danger, but she couldn’t bear to leave his side even in the face of a possible stand-up battle, or worst, ambush. “Benjamin, we did not suffer, hurt, bleed, train, and fight just to hide or save ourselves! You taught us that!” her words and her anger still rang in her ears. It was their first real fight as a bound family. Val had sat in the corner, ever the more silent one, had cried herself to sleep that night, and Benjamin had spent most of the rest of the evening pacing the decks. He returned in the early predawn hours, collapsing into their cramped quarters in exhaustion. They had not spoken of the subject until this morning, “If you are going to fight, You will need these.” He said, revealing a pair of percussion muskets. Each one was simply built, but they fit Vi and Val nicely. Now she stood next to Vailin and Veiran with three Aquilar crewmen she had not met before standing next to the four of them.

Benjamin finally arrived with five more muskets. They looked very much like the first one he had made, save that they were now using the same percussion ignition from his early pistols. He handed one musket and one shoulder bag to each of the Aquilar, and to the pair of Vin. “This is going to be quick, and its going to be a simple explanation. These, are muskets. They are in essence a small version of the cannon just installed aboard. I am giving you one type of ammunition.” He handed out a packet of ammunition containing 20 cartridges to each of them. “It is called a ‘buck and ball’ cartridge. It fires 4 projectiles once, much like the grapeshot round. For this to be effective, you will need to shoot no further than three times the length of Ruuigriloo.” He then pointed at his own stomach. "I do not know what races we will meet, but I have looked over the map of the points we must hold, anyone we fight, aim here. It will keep you from shooting over top of your enemy’s head.” Vi and Val focused on Benjamin's instruction. Over the next few weeks, he drilled them without using live ammunition, engraining the motions into their muscles as well as he could in the time he had. He started with loading and firing before quickly moving to bayonet drills against canvas bags stuffed with scraps of fabric.

The last week before arrival, Benjamin gave each of them 10 extra cartridges, these had wooden corks replacing the lead projectiles to save resources, except for the last one. He Hung sheets of scrap canvas from scraps of wood that he threw from the leeward bow. The group used the practice ammunition to “shoot” at the targets as they floated away from them. The wooden projectiles and the reduced powder charges gave them effective loading practice until the last round. The last cartridge was a full powder charge and real projectiles. Viola tore the paper with her teeth absently pouring the powder before pressing the rest of the cartridge, paper and all, down the barrel and ramming the entire thing ‘home’. She capped the percussion cone and cocked the hammer, “Ready!” she called, and Benjamin threw her target into the sea. Her musket had no rear sight, and she lined up the single bead on the tip of the barrel just ahead of her target and pulled the trigger. The full power cartridge hammered her a full step backward, but she kept her composure. “Good, NEXT!” was all Benjamin stated, despite Viola having obliterated her target.

Later that night, Benjamin returned to their quarters to find Vi and Val cleaning their new weapons. “Hey,” He offered weekly, “Come here a minute.” Vi wanted to ignore him, but something in his voice stopped her. She and her sister put down their cleaning rods and sat next to him, “I’m sorry. I know it was stupid to try to keep you from this..” Vi wanted to respond but Benjamin kept going, “Please, promise me. You will stay near me. You three are going to be with me on the eastern shore. Vailin, Vieran and the Aquilar will be on the west. They don’t have our other weapons and will need the numbers. If we are driven back, I’m keeping the longboats in the narrows and we will make for the nearest island, if Olioorin should fail or his vessel should sink.”

“Benjamin, we know this,” Val spoke first, “why keep telling us…” Benjamin smiled at her. Her speaking had strengthened steadily and was now almost as easy for her as Viola, but his expression saddened as he gazed at the muskets leaning against the wall, “Because I fear what we face. This isn’t a duel, or a Fae attack. We face an enemy that might already have their own cannon… and have had them for decades. If they have cannons….” Viola finally gasped in understanding, “You think they have…”

“I do.” Benjamin answered. “Your armor will deflect a glancing blow… maybe even a direct hit from a distance… but if someone gets close… or a shot finds a gap… It won't save you.” Benjamin’s head fell to his hands, “I got you trained in how to fight with the sword… and now I might be leading you into a gunfight.” A heavy silence fell on the three of them for several minutes. Val moved first, taking Ben’s head to her chest, “All the more reason… we stay with you…” She lifted his face to hers and kissed him. “All is forgiven,” she whispered, kissing her way down his neck while she untied his shirt “Now. Come to bed my Benjamin.” Her smile widened as Benjamin shuddered against her wandering fingertips, “Let us love before we fight.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________

“Ease away the lines,” The command whispered out into the misty ether of the predawn twilight. Benjamin watched as a pair of longboats were eased down the leeward side of Ruuigriloo. A quiet splash ended the operation, and Benjamin watched as the three Aquilar quickly scaled the railing and down the rope ladder into the first boat, quickly followed by Veiran and Vailin who flew down to join them. His Aereseen brides were next, quickly reverse-scaling their own rope ladders into the second boat before he himself slipped down to join them.

Each member of Benjamins group carried their typical weapons. The Vin lancers carried their spears and their traditional armor, The Aquilar Sailors wore little in the way of heavy armor, choosing a lighter-boiled leather chest piece to go along with their boarding axe and what Benjamin could only describe as an oversized cutlass. Vi and Viola were both in full battle rattle, helmets included this time. In addition, each member bore their musket, an oil skin shoulder pouch that contained the 20 buck and ball cartridges for each musket along with 30 total percussion caps. The pouch was sealed with the membrane of some kind of sea creature. It was disgusting but effective waterproofing, a necessity to ensure their gunpowder stays dry.

These precautions proved essential during the long, drenching row to shore. Moments after departure, the other boat disappeared into the mist as Benjamin and Viola began rowing towards shore. The surf was relatively calm for the larger longship, but the 5-foot waves proved a wet ride for the longboat occupied by the three of them. Val sat up at the bow, watching for the first signs of shoreline. The low fog hid most of the island, but the towering heights behind the inlet guided them towards their destination. Benjamin was again soaked to the bone by the surf on their final strokes to shore, and Val vaulted from the bow as the bow softly crunched into the gravelly, sandy beach. She pulled, with her, a rope, holding the boat in place as Vi and Ben followed her. “Quietly now, we don’t know if they’ve posted….”

Benjamin’s thought died in his throat as the sound of two distinct claps of familiar distant thunder rolled in from his west….