Page 60 of Stalk the Sky
Lucien crossed his arms, making his biceps stand out. “The next time we’re all in a fight together, it will be the Mongavarians we are giving a pounding.”
“I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have there with me.” Rokyd grinned, glancing around to include Lucien, Sathrah, Fieran, Merrik, and Fieran’s flyboys a few rows up.
“Well, I don’t know. I think I’d rather have Da and Ma here.” Lucien smirked and punched Rokyd’s arm before jabbing a thumb at Fieran. “And maybe Uncle Farrendel.”
“Besides them.” Rokyd punched Lucien right back.
Fieran nodded, a thickness in his throat that he had to swallow back. His dacha wasn’t here. When the Mongavarians attacked, Fieran would be the only warrior with the magic of the ancient kings here to stop them.
Chapter
Seventeen
Fieran pressed against the wall in the command room to one side of Level 1 of Dar Goranth. The place was so packed with ship captains, commodores, admirals, and ranking officers that Fieran couldn’t move from his spot along the wall without bumping into someone. He could barely see the topographical chart laid out on the large table dominating the center of the room.
Worse, Lt. Rothilion leaned against the wall only a few feet away, having also been shoved into this far back corner. If Merrik had been here at Fieran’s side, Fieran would have at least been able to whisper comments to keep things interesting. As it was, he and the elf lieutenant ignored each other with icy silence.
“Scout planes from the Persatra Aerodrome reported the last position of the Mongavarian Fleet as here, racing toward Dar Goranth at the edge of the storm.” The top admiral on the base pointed to a spot on the map. A female troll aide helpfully stepped forward, placing mini warships on the map, each one flying a tiny Mongavarian flag. “They have twenty-nine battleships, nine battlecruisers, fifteen light cruisers, and a flotilla of smaller surface ships. Their airborne fleet has fifteen large, heavily armed and armored airships and three smaller, scout airships.”
Fieran mentally ran the calculations through his head. The fleets would be fairly evenly matched, though the weight of surface ships slightly tipped toward the Mongavarians since the Alliance had only twenty-two battleships, seven battlecruisers, twelve light cruisers, and lots of smaller warships of various tonnage. But the Alliance had twenty-two heavily armed airships, not to mention Fieran’s squadron of aeroplanes.
And Fieran himself. He would count for a lot.
Of the surface ships, over sixty percent were Kostarian ships while the rest were Escarlish. Most were stationed out of Dar Goranth but the rest had been drawn out of the fleets stationed in other ports along the coast.
Even that was a bit deceiving. Escarland might have slightly less than forty percent of the surface ships mustered there—and most of those were the smaller ships—but a large number of the seamen on the Kostarian ships were Escarlish seamen on loan from the Escarlish Navy to the Kostarian Navy. Escarland might not field the same number of ships, but they provided much of the manpower.
Of the airships, all three kingdoms fielded roughly the same number, though Tarenhiel had the majority by a slight margin.
As the command meeting went on, the troll admiral divided up the fleet. Half of the fleet, named Battlegroup Anvil, would lure the Mongavarian fleet into the iceberg-filled waters between Brenzuk, Urixidor, and Drogenvroh Islands.
The other half of the Alliance Fleet, dubbed Battlegroup Hammer, would be hidden on the far side of Drogenvroh Island. Rokyd’s and Lucien’s ship the KS Vanguard was included in this battlegroup. Once the Mongavarians had entered, they would sail out and engage the enemy from the rear, pinning them between the two halves of the fleet in the narrow strait, where the larger Mongavarian fleet wouldn’t have the room to properly maneuver, thus negating some of their superior numbers.
As the admiral explained this, his aide rushed about, quickly placing the various ships in their designated battle positions.
Secretaries and aides. The war effort wouldn’t succeed without them.
The Alliance airships—Battlegroup Sky—would, of course, take on the Mongavarian airships and do their best to keep the airships out over the open sea rather than over the island or the battling fleets, both of which could be targets for bombing. Sathrah, on the KAS Dominion, would be a part of this battlegroup.
The troll secretary hurried forward again, placing miniature airships held aloft on wires and weighted stands in position on the map.
“Lt. Rothilion, Lt. Laesornysh, assist the airships at your discretion.” The admiral peered in their direction, and the various generals and captains shifted awkwardly to make a clear sightline to them. “Laesornysh, the reports from the Battle over Bridgetown mention that you are capable of bringing down airships?”
“Yes, sir.” Fieran pointedly ignored the way Lt. Rothilion grew even more stiff and chilly.
“Focus on eliminating the airships as early in the battle as you can without endangering yourself or your squadron in the crossfire between the enemy airships and ours.” The admiral tapped the map. “That will free our airships to bomb what remains of the Mongavarian fleet.”
“Yes, sir,” Fieran said again. Sadly, the aide didn’t move forward with any little aeroplanes to add to the battle map. Apparently the squadron was considered too inconsequential in the grand scheme of things to bother marking. A sign of the persistent disregard of the effectiveness of aeroplanes.
Or the aeroplanes would simply be too fast during the battle to bother moving as reports flowed in.
Either way, Fieran would ensure that his Flight proved their worth during the battle.
Pip stood at the top of the ladder to inspect the upper wing on Fieran’s aeroplane. Both wings had been fully replaced, and she checked every single bolt and connection. If there was a loose bolt, Fieran’s aeroplane could tumble from the sky.
After all this time, Fieran’s aeroplane still lacked artwork. The gray flyer seemed strangely bland and boring compared to the rest of Flight B, so unfitting for Fieran, who was anything but bland and boring.
She couldn’t miss anything in her inspection. Any mistake on her part would kill Fieran or one of the other flyboys.