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Like a flock of dive-bombing gulls, the great stones of the Yurrish trebuchets and catapults twisted and turned in the air. One jagged chunk struck the bow of a Karraban galley and splinters and shards burst forth to a chorus of cracks and screams. Another great boulder obliterated the masthead of a nearby ship, hurling those upon the deck overboard.
More missed than struck. The yellow tide did not falter.Driven forward by oars, the Karraban fleet ate up the water, moving in a diagonal line. The trebuchets were taking an age to reload. From his vantage point, Jem could see those on the quay hurrying to winch back the catapults. At the sound of a frantic horn, the arms of the catapults were unleashed and clusters of iron balls, stones and rocks rained down on those ships leading the Karraban charge, puncturing hulls, sails and decks.
Still they came.
The trebuchets, ranges adjusted, loosed again and once more struck a destructive blow. The Karrabans still persisted. Yurrish archers upon the quay walls unleashed their first volley. Unfortunate rowers upon the open decks screamed, and the momentum of a number of ships waned, oars falling slack or tangling with others. One talented, or lucky, archer struck a helmsman and the galley veered into another, scraping its side and snapping its oars, and, no doubt, the arms of a few oarsmen too.
The Karrabans answered with arrows of their own, their archers placed in crow’s nests and platforms built amongst the rigging. The air quickly grew thick with darts. The persistent shouts and cries of men were incrementally drowned out by the great crashes of stone against wood as the loads of catapults and trebuchets fell. The frenetic scene around the quay wall absorbed Jem’s attention. Creeping into the top of his vision, looming behind the chaos, came the first of the great galleons. Its rowers slowed, turned portside, level with the quay gate.
"Sir, the galleon carries the thunder. You must stop it!" Jem shouted.
Gundar looked to where he pointed and nodded. He dispatched messengers to the quay and artillery stations. Jem spotted hatches opening on the portside of the ship. Catapults continued to fire at the galleys, though some quick-thinking engineers had turned their aim to the galleon.
Their loads fell short. The trebuchets were still reloading. They were the only ones who had a hope of hitting it, if any of their operators had the presence of mind to know where to aim.
One by one, their great wooden arms swung forwards. Huge rocks hung in the air like eagles.
Everyone upon the wall had their eyes upon them, hoping they struck, willing them to do so, and despairing as they watched each one splash harmlessly into the water.
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