Ambush at the docks

Noon,

The next day.

…

Sailing upstream at a steady speed of 5 knots, a third rate vessel by the name 'The First Maiden' sailed in the direction of Redwater.

The modestly decorated vessel had twelve cannon ports, a triple mast arrangement with three mainsails, three topsails and three spritsails extending from the ship's bowsprit. Mounted on her conning tower was a flying flag with the picture of a gryphon wielding a spear and a shield woven into it.

In the luxurious captain's cabin at the stern sat Josh Hera. The middle-aged duke who appeared to be a few years older than Aden had a look of contemplation on his face.

He had light blond hair and a chiselled face with a small goatee on his chin. While not as tall as Aden he had quite a robust frame making him appear slightly more muscular than the younger Duke.

Standing up he walked out of his chamber with a few slips of paper in his hand. They were the letter his son, Gilbert sent to him over the winter.

Although the letters told the news of a successful conquest, the jaded aristocrat felt something was amiss.

Rereading the letters over and over again, despite not finding anything out of place he still carried suspicions in the depths of his heart.

He walked towards the ship's bow stopping beside his trusted aide, A Viscount by the name Jurel Vermont.

"What's wrong, my Lord?" Sir Jurel who also happened to be his second in command asked seeing the frown on Duke Josh's face.

"It's nothing, Jurel." The duke replied. "I am Just feeling somewhat uneasy again today.

The viscount looked towards the letters in his superiors' hands. Looking back to the flowing river, a faint smile formed on his face.

"My Lord, I just think you are just suffering from homesickness. Nothing can possibly be wrong, Please do remember my lord that the young master's opponent was that von Greifenberg wastrel."

"You are assuming something went wrong, my Lord? That is like looking down on the young master's prowess."

The Duke looked towards his trusted aide who was smiling confidently and relaxed.

"It's true there is truly nothing to worry about, I guess I was just thinking too much

.Silence was temporarily restored

Glancing back at the Duke, Sir Jurel spoke again.

"Sire, when are the rewards going to arrive. Some of the men have started getting restless and hope to rewarded soon."

Chuckling the duke replied.

"Did I forget to inform you? That Voyan fellow finally agreed on my request and will send a few ships with additional items later. The men should have a little patience, in as little as two weeks from now every man would get what is entitled to him."

The viscount smiled.

"I will pass the message around, my Lord."

But then the viscount frowned.

"We did suffer many losses during the campaign. Almost half the ships didn't survive and several brothers died pointlessly, I just hope getting involved was worth it."

The duke also frowned slightly but his expression soon returned to normal

"We couldn't have truly avoided it even if we wanted to." Josh Hera replied solemnly

"That was a war." The Duke said gazing at Redwater harbour that just appeared in the distance.

"Regardless of whether or not we got involved, there was no way on Anno that the rest of the kingdom would leave let us be. The only thing we could have done was to take the initiative, at least that way we won't be left to watch passively as others split up the spoils of war when it all finally came to an end."

Clenching his fists ambitiously, the duke said with a solemn face.

"We won and that's all that matters, and as for those who sacrificed themselves to make this possible, I will see to it that their families are well taken care of."

"Sire is merciful." The viscount said with a slight bow.

Silently the two of them watched from the bow as the large ship slowly manoeuvred into the piers.

Sailing in-between its two sister brigs anchored to the pier, 'The First Maiden' prepared to dock.

At the ship's bow, a frown appeared on Duke Hera's face again.

The harbour appeared somewhat scanty with only a few men loitering around aimlessly.

Feeling strange, the Duke shook his head.

"I am probably just worrying too much. Gilbert already mentioned he was planning to reduce trade with other towns, for now, that is probably why the harbour is so desolate," he muttered to himself

Then he noticed a few dozen meters away was five unknown objects. They were arranged in a straight line parallel to the dock, two meters apart and each covered with a cloth tarp.

The duke felt the bad feeling in his heart grow three-fold stronger. Unable to restrain the impulse he spoke, asking Sir Jurel.

"What are those?" He asked pointing towards the objects laying conspicuously in the distance.

"I am not sure, maybe some ship parts left for repair or replacement." The viscount reasoned with a small shrug.

The Duke relaxed slightly.

"Maybe I am just thinking too much. It is probably nothing to worry-"

*BOOM!*

*BANG*

Several sharp explosions and the dull sounds of iron into smashing wood resounded, disrupting the duke's speech.

The impact of several cannonballs smashing into the ship's starboard and port sides caused the vessel to rock violently.

The duke who was knocked off his feet staggered to his feet. He felt a warm liquid trickle down his face.

Reaching out, his fingers were stained with blood from his forehead.

Disoriented, The duke's vision swam and his hearing was distorted, briefly only a buzzing noise could be heard.

"What happened!?" Sir Jurel shouted staggering to his feet.

"My Lord you are hurt!"

"I am aware." Duke Hera growled.

Looking around he saw his entire ship in chaos.

Men running around trying to put out fires, some attempting to man their ship's cannons and return fire at the enemy, while some just wailed pathetically as they bleed out from gruesome wounds, slowly succumbing to death's blissful embrace.

Turning to the source of the attack, Josh Hera saw smoke wafting out of the cannon ports of the two brigs anchored to the pier, on both sides of his ship.

He was certain the ships belonged to him, or at least they once did. From the cravings on the ships' bows to the emblem on their flag, the duke could confirm that they were two of the three ships he left behind before his departure for Greystones.

Turning back to the docks he saw that those unknown objects had been unveiled by several men of unknown origins. Underneath the cloth tarps were five anti-personnel ballistae, of which were quickly aimed and fired at men aboard The first Maiden.

Although four of the first five shots missed, the addition of a new threat was enough to induce even more unease in the hearts of the soldiers aboard the assailed vessel.

"Artillerymen, man your stations and return fire! Jurel, find more men and make sure that fire doesn't spread! You lot over there, raise the anchor and get this ship out of here!" Although the duke was shocked by the sudden ambush, he remained level-headed and attempted to reorganize his men.

Looking toward the unknown men disguised as sailors and serfs his rage grew.

'Who are they?' He muttered staring at the men coordinately assault the First Maiden. Although they worked efficiently the duke had problems identifying them. They were obviously not a random ramshackle of men but they also didn't look like any force he was familiar within the area.

The duke was about to pass new orders to his men but then he paused.

Glancing down at the letters he received from Gilbert, his expression quickly changed.

Finally, it clicked

'Gilbert. Gilbert. Gilbert.' He muttered repeatedly picking up the now crumpled letters.

Turning to the enemy on the other ships he screamed.

"What did you do to my son?!"

His face was an expression of panic.

His seasoned gaze now carried a hint of trepidation, horror and…

Despair.