The Plains of Pluto - Chapter 24

Alexandria, Egypt

Valdar watched Alexandria grow in size as his fleet approached the city, holding onto the short ceiling of the heavily armored riverboat that wasn't meant to operate in open seas, even one as calm as the middle sea.

The trip here from Britannia had been harrowing. Worse, he'd started with eight ironclads, but one had been lost to the waves just before they'd crossed from Oceanus into the Middle Sea. Thankfully, it had been one of the ships refitted as a transport and they'd yet to be loaded with legionnaires, but it had required a readjustment to the plan that Valdar hoped wouldn't cause another devastating loss.

"There goes the fleet," someone said.

Valdar turned to look out one of the side viewing ports to see the two dozen wooden-hulled vessels slowing down, mostly commandeered merchant ships with a few armed Caravels mixed in, separating themselves from the seven squat figures that continued to steam toward the port, black columns of smoke pouring from each of their smoke stacks as they poured on the coal, pushing the boilers to the max.

Alexandria had changed since his last time here. At the mouth of the harbor, on either side of the breakwater stood a large stone fort, again copied from the designs used by Valdar at Port Vikhavn.

Valdar shook his head in wry amusement. He knew impersonation was the height of flattery, but he wished that his discovery there hadn't been so popular.

It turned out facing heavily gunned forts like this were much less satisfying than hiding behind them was.

The Western Fort was much larger than its eastern twin and dominated the harbor approach, its curved walls bristling with cannon emplacements. The Eastern Fort, though smaller, was well placed on a rocky promontory sticking farther out, allowing interlocking fields of fire across the harbor mouth. Together, they mounted at least fifty heavy guns, more than sufficient to destroy any conventional fleet attempting entrance.

"Ships are trying to flee the harbor," someone else said.

A dangerous move. If his people hadn't been so thorough as to sink every Egyptian ship out of range of forts like these, down to the smallest fishing trawler, they would have had warning and been able to escape before his ships were almost in the mouth of the harbor.

Instead, they had to try and make a run for it before the shells started falling, even if it meant sailing past the broadsides of the enemy.

Or maybe they didn't recognize these as warships. They hadn't been seen outside of the continent, so most ship masters would have no idea what the long, slope-sided things coming toward them were.

They were probably more concerned with the masts of the more traditional ships sitting just off the coast.

"Let them pass," Valdar ordered. "The caravels outside will deal with them."

Their hasty departure did create an unexpected complication, however. The fleeing merchant vessels choked the already narrow approach channel, forcing his ships to push together, lest one of the panicked ships collide with them in their haste.

One passed within a few dozen paces of his ship, close enough to see its sailors staring with open dismay at the squat, smoke-belching monsters.

The wake of the ships caused his ships to pitch and roll.

"The eastern position appears less heavily manned. Perhaps…" Aelius, who had been assigned to take the port and establish the foothold on Egyptian soil, started to say next to him when he was cut short by a thunderous boom from the Western Fort.

A fraction of a second later, a waterspout erupted fifty yards off their port bow.

"And so it begins," Valdar said. "Signal gun ships to begin the attack on their assigned forts."

The ironclad fleet had split as they got into the harbor, with three holding back just outside of the harbor as the other four had come all the way in, putting themselves in line with the guns of the forts. Now, the four split again, two heading to the eastern fort while Valdar and the other ship headed for its western sibling.

The Egyptian gunners had found their range quickly. More cannon opened fire from both forts, a mix of solid shot and explosive shells arcing toward the ironclad formation. Valdar's ship shuddered as the helmsman threw her into a zigzag pattern, steam engines protesting the sudden directional changes.

The ironclad trembled as her cannon replied, firing each time the ship's wild turning brought a broadside into range.

An Egyptian shell struck the water ten yards from the flagship's bow, drenching the forward deck with spray. Two more followed in quick succession, bracketing the vessel but failing to score a direct hit.

The same could not be said for the other ship with him, steaming off to the starboard. An Egyptian round smashed through her forward observation port, ripping through the thinner metal in the protrusion. The lookout stationed there simply vanished as the entire housing smashed flat.

The ironclad engines labored at full capacity, pushing the ungainly vessels through the increasingly turbulent waters. From both shoreline fortifications, Egyptian cannon maintained a punishing rate of fire. Across the bay, three shells struck the water directly beside one of the vessels attacking the eastern port, lifting her starboard side partially from the water and throwing crewmen against bulkheads.

Aelius braced himself against the pilothouse wall as the flagship executed another evasive maneuver. "This is madness."

Valdar smiled to himself. He was used to open field battles and hiding in trenches. Navy men were used to riding into withering fire, with ships pounding each other with cannon fire, ripping the very ground out from under you.

"Welcome to the navy, Legate," Valdar replied, smiling.

Not that he didn't harbor concerns of his own. This was very different than facing land forces with a handful of cannon.

A tremendous impact rocked his flagship, the sound of tearing metal reverberating through her hull. Valdar steadied himself against the chart table as reports flooded in from below.

"Direct hit forward armor plate!" shouted the damage control officer. "Outer layer buckled but holding!"

The Egyptian shell had struck the vessel's forward armor square on, denting the reinforced plating but failing to penetrate. The impact transmitted through the entire vessel, rattling men's teeth and loosening fittings throughout the ship.

"Helmsman, bring us to five hundred paces and closing."

"Sir?" The helmsman glanced back in surprise but did as he was commanded.

The flagship turned toward the Western Fort, exposing less of but briefly taking her guns out of the fight as it closed on the fort. The other combat ironclads maintained their zigzag approach, drawing fire from both fortifications.

As they got close, it turned again, bringing its guns very close to the walls, which opened up as soon as the broadsides cleared. It also put them closer to the enemies' guns, which now pounded his ship, with each hit sending fragments of scale and rust raining down from the ceiling. But the iron armor continued to hold.

This close, they could clearly see the effects as the Britannian shells struck the stone fortifications with devastating effect, each impact sending chunks of masonry flying. Several Egyptian gun emplacements had already fallen silent, their crews either dead or driven from their positions by the continuous barrage.

"We're hurting them," Aelius noted.

A tremendous impact against the vessel's superstructure cut short any reply. The pilothouse filled with acrid smoke as alarms sounded throughout the ship.

"Forward smokestack hit! Stack collapsed, boiler pressure dropping!"

Smoke poured across the deck as the damaged ventilation system failed, reducing visibility to near zero. The flagship's speed dropped noticeably as reduced steam pressure affected her engines.

The battle had raged for nearly thirty minutes, and casualties were mounting. A messenger arrived from below decks, his face blackened with powder.

"Gun three crew reports five wounded from fragment penetration through gunport, sir. Two serious."

"Tell them to bring in replacements and keep firing."

Things were going much worse on the eastern fort. One ironclad had taken serious hits to its pilothouse and had stopped putting up signal flags, which suggested its captain might be dead. It didn't stop fighting, so that was a problem for later.

The other ship had fared worse, in practical terms. From here it looked as if it suffered damage to her steering or propulsion. She stopped maneuvering entirely, although she still had her broadside pointed at the eastern fort, it put her in serious danger, as most of the eastern fort's guns now concentrated on the lamed vessel.

This was war and there would be setbacks. In spite of the damage his ships had taken, they were doing their job. Aelius was right. They were hurting them. The rate of fire from both Egyptian forts had diminished significantly, on one side of the western fort it seemed to be down to only two guns.

The battle continued for another ten minutes, the ironclads maintaining position despite accumulating damage as they pounded the forts.

The lamed ship's luck, or lack of luck, continued as an Egyptian shell found the vulnerable seam where two armor plates joined near her waterline. The impact tore through the weaker connection, breaching her hull and causing it to start listing.

Valdar watched as the stricken ironclad began to drift, black smoke pouring from her damaged hull. He knew it was bad when two of the gun ports facing him had their guns retraced and buckets of water began to be tossed out of them, as the men tried to keep her from going under.

There was nothing to be done for it now. The other ship on that side was in no condition to come to their aid, and none could stop the fight now. The battle had raged for forty minutes now, and the tide was turning.

They just needed a little more.

"Look there," Aelius said, pointing to the Western Fort's lower wall section where concentrated Britannian fire had taken its toll. "The wall structure is failing."

Through the smoke, Valdar could see that the legate was correct. The stone facing of the fort had begun to crack under the relentless pounding, one bastion showing signs of imminent collapse.

"Helmsman, close to two hundred paces. Signal all guns to fire at that section of wall."

"Two hundred, sir?" The helmsman's voice betrayed his concern. "The charts show shallow rocks that close to the breakwater."

"The gods take you, do it or step aside for a man with a spine."

The man paled and did as he was told.

The flagship pushed forward, closed the distance to the Western Fort until he could have thrown a rock and hit the fort's masonry walls. At such close range, the ironclad's guns could hit its target easily. The Egyptians must have thought he'd gone insane, since he was as easy of a target, and redoubled their efforts.

The ironclad's keel scraped against submerged rocks with a horrific shriek of metal on stone. The impact threw men from their feet throughout the vessel, but her shallow draft allowed her to continue where a deeper-keeled warship would have foundered.

"Concentrate all fire on the lower wall section. Maximum elevation."

They were close enough now that a few of the handful of legionnaires he had on board, sharpshooters assigned to the navy, popped open hatches along the top of the ship. It was wildly dangerous for them, with all the shrapnel in the air, but at this range, they could target individual Egyptian gunners visible through the fort's embrasures. Rifle fire began to crack, sending Egyptian soldiers falling off the wall here or there.

The flagship's guns maintained a punishing rate of fire, each heavy shell striking the already weakened wall structure. Valdar watched as the cracks in the stonework widened with each impact, mortar and facing stone crumbling under the assault.

A shell struck the flagship's upper works, tearing away a section of railing and killing four of his sharpshooters. Another impacted directly against the pilothouse armor, the sound inside deafening as the metal held but buckled inward several inches.

Time and pressure, however, proved that rock wasn't invulnerable as the damaged lower section of the fort wall gave way with a tremendous roar, tons of stone collapsing in a billowing cloud of dust and debris. Egyptian defenders caught in the collapse disappeared beneath the avalanche, while others abandoned their positions in the sudden chaos.

Through the swirling dust, Valdar could see that the breach was substantial, at least thirty feet wide at the base, and expanding as weakened sections above continued to collapse.

"Signal the transports to begin their assault," Valdar ordered.

A signalman rapidly worked the flags on the remaining signal post, relaying the command to the ironclad transports waiting beyond the harbor entrance. Through billowing smoke, Valdar watched the three blocky vessels begin their approach.

In spite of the brutal beating his four ships had just taken, this was the riskiest part of the operation. The three ironclads fitted out as transport ships were much more vulnerable than the assault ironclads. To allow them as shallow of a draft as possible, they were not fitted out with the additional armor plating for protection. Seeing how badly his ships had been maimed, a few good shots on the transports and hundreds of men would be dead in an instant, and their assault would be in real jeopardy.

Thankfully, the forts did not seem to realize these new vessels which did not open their gunports and were not firing, were the real danger to them. Instead, they continued to attack his combat vessels.

"We need to maintain suppression fire," Valdar said, turning to the damage control officer. "What's our ammunition status?"

"Thirty percent remaining, Admiral. More than we expected at this point. The gunners report reduced rate due to ventilation damage."

"Tell them to push through, I don't care how hard it gets to breathe down there. We need to keep hitting them. Back us up to about three hundred paces and prioritize their gun placements still firing."

Black smoke poured from the flagship's damaged stack, mixing with powder smoke to create a miasma across the battlefield. The heat inside the pilothouse had become nearly unbearable as ventilation systems failed.

The first transport ironclad pushed through the waves, its modified bow riding higher than the combat vessels. The flat-bottomed hull had been designed specifically for this purpose to run aground and disgorge troops directly onto the rocky shore.

Two of the assault vessels were headed toward this fort, while one turned to the smaller eastern fort. Unfortunately, that fort had somehow become a bigger problem than its larger sibling.

While one of his ironclads continued to pound the Eastern Fort, the other lay practically dead in the water, listing heavily to port. The Eastern Fort's remaining guns continued to fire with alarming accuracy.

The first transport had reached its destination, its bow grinding onto the narrow seawall leading to the western fort. With a tremendous bang, the specially designed bow crashed down onto the rocks, forming a bridge from ship to shore.

Valdar watched as the first century and a half of legionaries charged down the ramp. There was no attempt to form up and make firing lines. They charged the breach, knowing how vulnerable they were out in the open.

The second transport was close behind, positioning itself alongside the first to create a continuous landing platform. More legionaries poured onto the beach, joining their brothers in the charge.

Egyptian defenders appeared along the walls, firing down at the exposed troops with rifles. Men fell on the open breakwater, but the legionaries didn't let that slow them down, charging hard for the wall, occasionally stopping to fire at an exposed man on the wall.

"Movement in the city," one of his officers said.

Valdar turned to see a column of Egyptian soldiers, perhaps three hundred men, running toward the Western Fort. Reinforcements for the beleaguered defenders.

"Helmsman, bring us ninety degrees to port. Gunnery officer, prepare broadside for ground targets, six hundred paces."

The ironclad pivoted slowly, bringing her starboard battery to bear on the approaching column. At Valdar's command, twelve guns roared in unison, shells arcing across the water to explode among the Egyptian ranks. Men disappeared in clouds of dust and smoke. Those not directly hit scattered or were sliced down by shrapnel, their neat formation disintegrating under the unexpected bombardment.

Three more salvos transformed the reinforcement attempt into a rout, the survivors fleeing back toward the city's protective walls.

"They're almost at the breach," Aelius said, having kept his attention on his men in action.

Indeed, the first wave of legionaries reached the fallen wall section, charging through the gap into the fort's interior. Others set up firing positions behind whatever cover they could find, providing cover for their comrades as they stormed inside.

Valdar directed his attention across the harbor, where the situation had deteriorated. The third transport struggled to approach the Eastern Fort, weaving through water churned by shell impacts. The fort's guns concentrated their fire on the approaching vessel, probably having seen the other two land and guessing its intent.

"Take us to that eastern fort. We need to draw fire from the transport."

He wasn't the only one who saw the problem. The damaged ironclad seemed to have gotten some propulsion restored and pushed closer to the Eastern Fort despite the heavy damage to its hull. Its remaining operational guns fired continuously, attempting to suppress the Egyptian batteries.

"Captain Tulon is asking if they are to join us," the signalman said.

The captain of his partner ship on the western fort had managed to get a makeshift signal pole up, and restore some communication.

"No. Maintain position and continue suppression fire on the Western Fort and any reinforcements from the city."

The third transport took a direct hit to its upper works as it neared its landing position. Smoke billowed from the struck section, flames visible even at this distance. A second hit struck near the waterline, though the vessel continued its approach.

"Make it to shore," Valdar muttered to himself, watching the transport push through despite the punishment it was taking.

The transport finally reached its intended position, grounding firmly on the narrow strand below the Eastern Fort. Its ramp descended under fire, legionaries disembarking into a maelstrom of rifle and cannon fire. There wasn't a large breach on this fort and the rocky shore offered minimal cover.

Valdar and his other two ships spent the next hour pounding the eastern fort's gun placements, trying to keep them suppressed as much as they could. Most of the legionaries on this assault had retreated, using the hull of the transport ship as protection from the constant onslaught, unable to get to the wall. Their losses had been costly.

Thankfully, the Western Fort assault had fared much better, with Aelius' men pushing through the breach and securing the outer works. Almost all of the guns on its walls had silenced and they had begun to push deeper into the fortification.

"Signal Captain Tulon to join us here. All fire is to shift to the eastern fort. But keep an eye on the western position, in case we need to return."

Another hour passed as they tried to silence the eastern fort's guns, and had little success.

He had miscalculated, in thinking the eastern fort would be the softer of the two targets. It had turned out to be a tenacious beast that shrugged off everything he was throwing at it.

"Captain," one of his assistants said.

Turning, Valdar saw a red signal flare arcing from the Western Fort's central tower.

"Finally some luck," Aelius said. "Signal the tribune. Half his men are to reboard the transport and reposition to this side of the bay to join the assault."

The signal had barely started to go out when more bad news came in.

"Sir, Captain Kenaz signals critical damage. They've had another hull breach below the waterline. Pumps engaged but losing ground."

The already listing ironclad was now starting to drop lower in the water as Valdar watched.

"Tell them to beach her if necessary. Preserve the crew and guns and keep firing."

It was almost a death sentence for the men aboard, but they could not let this attack fail. The added fire was having an effect and the legionaries had finally managed to push forward, establishing positions at the base of the walls but struggled to scale the shortest of the walls.

Valdar was surprised when a series of very large explosions smashed into the western side of the fort. Looking back at the western fort, he could see its much larger cannons firing again, but this time across the bay at the eastern fort.

Chaos seemed to be reigning on the eastern fort as they tried to figure out why their countrymen were firing on them, not realizing the fort had been lost, and dealing with the damage caused by the larger cannons.

"Pull the legionnaires back and signal all vessels to coordinate fire with the Western Fort batteries," Valdar ordered. "Concentrate all of it. Blow a hole in that damn thing."

The combined firepower of Valdar's remaining vessels and the captured guns of the Western Fort hammered the Eastern Fort relentlessly for almost twenty minutes. Multiple breaches appeared in its walls as the concentrated bombardment took its toll on the stone fortification.

Aelius had been busy at the same time, and ten smaller boats, dinghies, and lifeboats, probably found inside the fort, were coming across from the fort with even more legionaries, who appeared to want to join their countrymen in taking the eastern fort.

Part of the eastern fort wall began to crumble under the intense fire, as most of its cannons fell silent.

"Pull your fire to the northern side. It's time for my boys to work," Aelius said.

Valdar agreed and orders were sent. In a few minutes, the firing shifted, freeing up the land side of the fort for the legionnaires, now almost two hundred men strong, charging at the broken building.

Their assault was much easier than before. Easier even than the assault on the western fort, as most of the defenders were still hunkering down inside or dead from the long direct bombardment. Whatever defenders were there to protect the breaches were quickly overwhelmed by the seething mass of Britannian men.

It still took almost an hour for the battle inside the fort to be settled, but finally a Britannian battle flag appeared at the parapet, announcing the fort's fall.

Not that they were without losses. The injured assault ironclad had finally beached itself to avoid sinking and its men had abandoned ship. The rest of his ships were all injured in one way or another.

Not that it mattered. The ships could be repaired. They had achieved their goal. The forts were down, the forces inside Alexandria had been smashed in their attempts to retake the forts, and the vast majority of Aelius's legion was healthy and ready to fight, sitting on transports just off shore.

"Signal the rest of the fleet to join us. Let's finish this," Valdar ordered.

Alexandria was theirs.