and jibes.
"Again," growled Belisarius. Gingerly, the loader placed a firebomb in the trough. The other artillerymen ratcheted back the torsion springs and engaged the claw. Belisarius sighted—compensated for the roll, guessed at the pitch—yanked the trigger.
He did, this time, manage a respectable trajectory. Quite respectable. Not too high, not too low.
And not, unfortunately, anywhere in the vicinity of an enemy ship. Another harmless plop into the sea.
The catcalls and jibes grew louder.
Valentinian fired.
Extravagant failure; utter humiliation. His second firebomb landed farther from the enemy armada than had his first.
The catcalls and jibes were now like the permanent rumbling of a waterfall.
Belisarius glared at Honorius.
"For the sake of God! This damned ship's—"
He gestured angrily with his hands.
"Pitching, yawing and rolling," filled in Honorius. The sailor shrugged. "I can't help it, general. On this heading—which you ordered—we're catching the worst combination of the wave action."
Belisarius restrained his angry glare. More accurately, he transferred it from the seaman to the enemy, who were still taunting him.
He pointed at the fleet.
"Is there any way to get at them without having this miserable damned ship hopping around like a flea?" he demanded.
Honorius gauged the wind and the sea.
"If we head straight for them," he announced. "We'll be running
"Again," growled Belisarius. Gingerly, the loader placed a firebomb in the trough. The other artillerymen ratcheted back the torsion springs and engaged the claw. Belisarius sighted—compensated for the roll, guessed at the pitch—yanked the trigger.
He did, this time, manage a respectable trajectory. Quite respectable. Not too high, not too low.
And not, unfortunately, anywhere in the vicinity of an enemy ship. Another harmless plop into the sea.
The catcalls and jibes grew louder.
Valentinian fired.
Extravagant failure; utter humiliation. His second firebomb landed farther from the enemy armada than had his first.
The catcalls and jibes were now like the permanent rumbling of a waterfall.
Belisarius glared at Honorius.
"For the sake of God! This damned ship's—"
He gestured angrily with his hands.
"Pitching, yawing and rolling," filled in Honorius. The sailor shrugged. "I can't help it, general. On this heading—which you ordered—we're catching the worst combination of the wave action."
Belisarius restrained his angry glare. More accurately, he transferred it from the seaman to the enemy, who were still taunting him.
He pointed at the fleet.
"Is there any way to get at them without having this miserable damned ship hopping around like a flea?" he demanded.
Honorius gauged the wind and the sea.
"If we head straight for them," he announced. "We'll be running