anny b. howard
CASTLE CITY MANIFEST

If ignorance is bliss, give 'em hell.
_ccm vog 04

local settlement date 35,992

When everything appears backwards, you will start to see it.

King Namor Zujahrah

19 bavina


The canals from the salt lakes had been cleared. The silt and sand dug away to reveal stone walls and bed buried since many generations. They ran into the ocean to the reef. The reef had to be cut away. Wide enough for a schooner. Namor and Barbaralba, and many of the crew, stood at the bow and watched as the canal took them away from salt lake 36 to the ocean.

They had hurried to finish the schooners with their canons and cross bows. They were more and more attacks from Barbancorian armies. Their ships usually burnt at sea.

Twelve days was long enough to make a round trip with a Barbancorian ship. The schooners were expected to make a crossing to Barbancor in two days.

First objective was to meet the next fleet on the ocean.

Their 36 schooners sighted the Barbancorian fleet on the evening of their first day. The horizon was full of more than 100 ships.

Barbaralba made her instructions; with flag signals, they were relayed from schooner to schooner across their side of the horizon. They sailed into a fight formation and headed straight for the Barbancorian fleet.

When the Castle City fleet was within canon range, the two outside schooners veered sixty degrees left and right and opened fire. The next two schooners split and opened fire. Then the next two until each schooner had shot 36 metal arrows, knocking down masts and ripping the front of most of the ships apart so that they were taking on water.

The schooners then sailed again at the fleet until they were in crossbow firing rang. They split again sending 36 firebomb arrows each before sailing out of range. Around the Barbancorian fleet.

By the time the schooners returned to attack from behind, half the ships from Barbancor had sunk or were sinking. Soldiers clung onto planks and barrels. Canine barking. Canines swimming long enough to bite into a soldier as a last effort at existence before the frantic pounding of their legs would not hold them above the surface.

A few soldiers had managed to escape their sinking ships in little boats. Often loosing their oars into the teeth of a canine.

The schooners came within crossbow range, split out around the Barbancorian fleet and sent firebomb arrows to the backs of many ships. To the side of the ships that could still navigate and prepare a fight. Fourteen ships of the Barbancorian fleet sent flying fire back at the schooners.

The last four schooners received fire.

They sailed out of range to leave the battle to put out their fires.

One of the fires was not to be controlled. The schooner went down with everything but the crew. Far enough away from canines to have time to be picked up.

"How many ships left. King Namor."

Namor looked down from his alba nest.

"Two not in flames."

Namor climbed back down to Barbaralba.

"We lost a schooner. The crew has been collected by three other schooners."

"We are losing our wind."

It was a still that was coming with the setting of the sun. It was time to leave the battle, join the other schooners and wait out the night and the empty sky.

With the last wind, they brought the schooners together. If there was no wind in the next days, they could drop their small boats and tow the schooners. From where they were, they could row to fresh water about the same time they died of thirst.

Barbaralba went up to the alba nest to see what the surface held of the Barbancorian army. Namor climbed up after her and watched the distant flames disappear.

"They are mad, King Namor. There are twelve or eighteen small boats towing the last two ships in our direction."

Namor took the looking glass to watch. There were many soldiers getting onto the two ships. So that they were full to over full. Some soldiers throwing others off into the water to have a place to stand.

"If they would take any other direction, they could disappear over night."

"But they want us dead."

"We can't let them pull their ships into firing range."

They were soon close enough to be in canon firing range.

"They will come all night. In a few shots they will have to swim."

Namor kept the looking glass and Barbaralba went down to the deck to prepare to destroy the last two ships and their rowboats.

Three of her schooners loaded their cannons. Barbaralba yelled orders that were yelled along the schooner to the next schooner. And they waited. Counting. Until they were all counting together. So that when their voices in unison bellowed 86.

Eighteen canons fired at once. Rowboats evaporated. Soldiers were ripped apart.

The ships were torn open as was the skin and muscle of many soldiers.

Namor watched through his looking glass. The ships had enough momentum that they might get within crossbow range. One of them was sinking. The soldiers that still could, jumped ship to swim to the last ship. There was no space for them.

Barbaralba looked up at Namor. He wanted it finished. Let those who could, swim. He did not say or signal anything. Barbaralba ordered one more firing from her schooner only. One canon at a time. Namor could see the ship take its hits. After four shots, a huge hole had been ripped out of the last ship.

"Enough."

He waved Barbaralba off and watched the last ship go under. Barbaralba climbed back up to join him, to see the last of the ship disappear and one of the moons come up over the horizon to shine a bit more light on the still ocean. The ship took many of the soldiers with it. Even soldiers swimming away were sucked down with the water that followed the ship down.

Less than a hundred soldiers had the strength and a piece of wood to stay on the surface. Like bubbles breaking on a warm brew, the rest went down.

"They are like their canine. Fight till the death."

Namor did not want to watch them swim into range of hand held bows. He laid his head on Barbaralba while she leaned against the mast and looked into the sky.

Namor aimed the looking glass into the sky to see into it.

"There are so many stars out there, Barbaralba."

She kissed him.

"Which one are you from."

"I don't know. But the same one you're from."

"I think it was that one."

Had she pointed after the planet had rotated half the night, she would have not been too far off. Namor looked to where she was pointing and gasped.

"Do you see it."

"No. But. Don't move."

Namor tried to follow what he had just not seen. For a moment, a star went black. He could not see another one go black. He kept looking until his eye could not take the strain.

Then he sat up to look at Barbaralba.

"What. Did you see something."

"There is something up there. Moving."

Barbaralba tried with the looking glass where Namor pointed.

"What did you see. Maybe a bird."

"No. It wasn't a bird. It was farther away and bigger. Smoother in it's flight."

"Tell me what was your first thought, Drave King."

"A space ship."

Barbaralba gave up trying to see what she could find. Seeing only stars. To look at Namor in the light of the rising moon. She could see him making countless calculations and speculations. Feeding through his probability parameters.

"Speak your thoughts, Namor."

Namor smiled at Barbaralba.

"If it is a space ship, it is most likely our space ship. The royal family imperial star ship. Up there over thirty thousand years."

"Is that possible."

"The moons have been there longer."

The angry voices of soldiers were getting close enough to hear. Barbaralba looked down with the looking glass to see about 60 soldiers. Approaching their schooner as if they were after the King and Queen.

"Will you wait here for me, Drave King."

"Bring a blanket back with you and some smoke."

Barbaralba went down to the deck to organize her best shooters. It was close to impossible to board the schooners without ropes.

As long as Barbaralba waited, everyone else waited. She waited until the soldiers were beside the schooner. The soldiers threw the few spears they still had. They bounced off the schooner.

Barbaralba raised her bow and shot one soldier after the other. She did not count them like she did fish.

______ . . ______


The dawn brought wind. Anchors were raised from the deep. Sails were hoisted and a course for the mainland was set. For the closest city of Barbancor. In the early evening of the third day they were in the harbour of the enemy.

The 35 schooners were lined up along the harbor front of Bavina. City of over 3 million.

"Give them everything."

"One. Two."

The count spread from schooner to schooner until it was loud enough to be heard at the harbor front. At 86, 210 canons sounded as one and 210 firebomb arrows flew as one. Metal ripped through wood and stone, creating a shock wave, followed by the sound of the 210 canons as one shock wave, followed by fire bursting up all along the harbor front.

All the canons and crossbows were raised one measure and Barbaralba started the second count.

Again Bavina was hit by the thunder of metal tearing down buildings of stone and wood. The crack of the 210 canons followed. The rain of fire landed shortly after.

After 4 more notches, fire raged through half the city. Quickly advancing through the rest of the city. Too big of a monster to be contained.

The heat could be felt crawling out over the ocean. The sky was filled with black smoke.

"Their God had promised that for us. Maybe they will be ready for a new book after we strike a few more times."

There were no cheers from the schooners. The sails were raised and a course set for home. Some would escape the flames to tell the story. The smoke would be seen for many days as it floated over land over towns and cities. The story of the destruction of Bavina would follow the smoke.

Priests would preach new words. New sentences. Some would wonder. That was all Namor could hope for. Changing minds set for 30,000 years was next to impossible.

"Like everything."

Barbaralba did not know what Namor was thinking. She could see he was trying to believe that they would not have to burn every port city on Barbancor.

Two days it took the first schooners to reach the shores of Castle City island. It would take more than twenty days for the schooners to be towed back to the salt lakes. To be maintained and reloaded for the next assault on the next city.

While the 30 animals, fifteen on each side of the canal, were fitted with harnesses and ropes to tow the schooners, Barbaralba went fishing with her fishing bow and files. Pleased to be killing something to eat.

Trying not to remember the thunder of the canons and the burning city.

Back at salt lake 36, Namor published his first report. Printed on a printing press made to patent specifications dated before the beginning of recorded time.

On their planet.

He told of the events on and over the ocean. He reported on the progress of building new waterways and towns and cities. He wrote about the possibility of their space ship still in the sky above them.

The old king wrote about the 36 libraries that had been finally all dug out. All with the same royal family patent books.

Morhart wrote about events in Castle City.

Barbaralba wrote about the coming assault on Havatara.

Zauqir wrote about the success of the Castle City island trade routes.

Karnalana wrote of the progress on the bridge that was making the two islands one.

"This, King Namor, is the first news report written and printed."

"Here, Old King. The last two thousand years. The rest of the planet does it. Or something like it."

"I would love to see some of the rest of it. I'm looking forward to the end of war."

"When they are ready for protocol, you will sail with me. Until then, organize the building of a large looking glass to search the sky for a space ship. We have enough canons for now."

"It will be ready when you come back."
chapter 20