Guardsman Of Gor

Chapter 16 — THE LONGBOAT

"Have you a taste, Lads," called Policrates, "for precious wines and delicate viands?"

"That we have, Captain," called a man.

"Have you a taste for well-tooled leather and fine cloths?"

"Yes, Captain!" called men.

"Have you a taste for more gold and silver, and jewels, than you know what to do with?" called Policrates.

"Yes, Captain!" called dozens of men.

"Have you a taste for luscious slaves, to train with whips to your pleasure?" demanded Policrates.

"Yes, yes, Captain!" called hundreds of men. I heard weapons unsheathed and clashed. "Yes, Captain! Yes, Captain!" shouted hundreds of men.

"Then, Lads," cried Policrates, "take Victoria! She is yours!"

Then, at that very instant from atop the frame building housing the office of the wharf master the alarm bar began to ring. I saw a single man on the roof, striking it with a great hammer. It rang again, and again. The pirates turned, startled, puzzled, to regard the source of the sound.

Almost at that very moment, from the seemingly deserted buildings of Victoria, running and screaming, charging, brandishing an incredible assortment of chains, tools and weapons, there issued hundreds of the outraged citizens of Victoria. Archers sprang into view on the roof tops. Showers of arrows sped like dark, linear hail over the heads of the charging citizens, striking into the startled, suddenly reeling, disordered crowds of pirates at the foot of the concourse. But a moment later the charging citizens, like thundering, horned kailiauk, like uncontrolled, maddened, stampeding bosk, pikes and spears leveled, chains flailing, swords flashing, boat hooks, and axes and shovels upraised, struck the dumbfounded, disarrayed throngs of astonished buccaneers.

A cheer rose spontaneously from my throat.

"Fight!" I heard Policrates scream. "Fight!"

I saw a pirate being strangled with a chain. I saw a flailing chain, doubled, tear a pirate's head half from his body. Shovels slashed down at pirates. Pikes stabbed and cut. Spears thrust. I saw a pirate fall over the body of another pirate, who had been struck with an arrow. An outraged citizen thrust down, driving the vertically mounted point of a boat hook into the fellow's face. An instant later he had caught another pirate by the neck, with the horizontally mounted hook on the staff and pulled him backward. Another citizen thrust his sword into the fellow's belly. The archers had now left the roof tops to hurry to the melee, that they might, at point-blank range, pick targets. I saw some five pirates thrust back off the edge of the concourse into the water. An ax split the side of the helmet open of another pirate. Still more citizens were running forth, from buildings, from further down the wharves, with spears and swords.

"On!" I cried. "On for Victoria!"

"Fight! Stand! Fight!" screamed Policrates.

I saw a dozen pirates break and run for their ships.

I struggled on the blade. In a frenzy I tried to free myself. But I could not do so. I was helpless. I had been tied by Gorean men.

A man ran past me, hurrying to the ship.

"Stand, fight!" I heard Policrates screaming. I saw him strike a pirate in the back of the neck with his sword, cutting his head half from his body, who had turned to run. "Stand, fight!" he screamed.

A dozen more pirates, here and there, in their ragged lines, turned about and broke for their ships. Then a dozen more!

"Withdraw!" shouted Policrates. "Back to the ships!"

"Back to the ships!" called Ragnar Voskjard.

"Back to the ships!" called Kliomenes.

"Back to the ships!" called Callisthenes.

Men were now hurrying past me. Some were bloody, and wounded. Swords slashed down at the mooring ropes. I felt the flagship of Policrates shift in the water. Men were fighting on the wharf now. Men behind me, I heard clamber aboard. I did not know whether or not they could board a crew. Policrates himself ran past me, and Kliomenes, and Callisthenes. I heard them leaping to the bulwarks of the ship and clambering aboard. "Poles!" shouted Policrates. "Oars outboard!" I could see the pirate ship to my left, across the wharf, moored on the opposite side, its mooring ropes cut, backing away from the wharf. Then the ship on which I was bound, poles thrusting against the wharf, slid to my right and backward. A pirate running for the ship missed the bow rail and fell into the water. He began to thrash and scream in the water, attacked by eels. I looked down, into the water. Below me the water was swarming with eels. The blood from my back, I realized, running down the blade and dripping into the water, had attracted them.

The wharves, now, were crowded with men. Pirates fell into the water. Others, in the rearward ranks, who could turn, did so, and fled toward the ships. Some ran past me and apparently leaped to oars, trying to hold them and use them to clamber aboard. I heard a man scream, struck, behind me. "Do not encumber the oars!" cried Policrates. I heard a body slide into the water behind me. An outjutting oar struck against the wharf. I heard another body strike the water. Then the ship was out from the wharf. I saw pirates throwing down their weapons, and kneeling on the wharf. There was cheering from the men of Victoria.

"Well done, Lads!" I called. "Well done!"

"We shall return!" screamed Policrates to the wharves. "You have not heard the last of us! We're coming back, you sleen! We're coming back!"

Then the stern of the ship struck against another pirate galley, trying to extricate itself from the press of ships. "Get that fool out of the way!" screamed Policrates. Arrows, wrapped with oil-soaked, flaming rags, struck against the ship. The bow swung about, eccentrically. Below me, swirling in the water, I could see eels.

"Back oars!" screamed Policrates. "Back oars!" cried Kliomenes. "Extinguish the fires!" cried Callisthenes. There was another heavy, grating noise as the stern of the ship was struck again, by another pirate vessel. Blood flowed down the blade to which I was bound, yet I was almost uncognizant of this, so elated I was. On the wharves I could see kneeling pirates, being stripped and bound. They were, too, being roped together by the neck. I did not think that they would find the citizens of Victoria indulgent captors. They would be treated little better than slave girls.

"Well done, Lads!" I called to the men of Victoria. A spear blade from the bulwarks, thrust down, struck down at me, but glanced off the metal, flashing sparks near my right cheek. I could smell smoke. The flagship of Policrates seemed jammed among the ships, each trying to escape. "Well done, Lads!" I cried. "Well done!"

"Get those fools out of the way!" Policrates was screaming. The flagship of Policrates moved backward a dozen feet or so, and then again, striking against another ship, or the same, came again to a stop. "Well done!" I cried. The spear blade thrust down again, but again, came short of its mark. I heard a man curse. Then he left the rail.

"Well done," I cried. "Well done!" I was elated. I could scarcely feel my pain, or the burns of the ropes. I was only dimly conscious of the wetness of my back. Then something wet and heavy, slithering, leapt upward out of the water, and splashed back. My leg felt stinging. It had not been able to fasten its jaws on me.

I looked downward. Two or more heads, tapering, menacing, solid, were emerged from the water, looking up at me. Then, streaking from under the water, suddenly breaking its surface, another body, some four feet in length, about eight or ten pounds in weight, leapt upward. I felt the jaws snap and scratch against the shearing blade. Then it fell twisting back in the water. It was the blood which excited them. I strove again, then, to escape, pulling against the bonds, trying to abraid them against the back of the blade.

I was now, suddenly, alarmed. My struggles had done nothing more than to lower me a few inches on the blade. I now feared I might be within reach of the leaping eels. I tried to inch upward on the blade. Pressing my legs and arms against the blade I could move upward to my original position, but no further, because of the ropes on my ankles, catching on the bottom side of the blade fixture, and it was extremely difficult and painful to hold myself that high on the blade.

I was sweating, and terrified. Then the flagship of Policrates, responding to another impact, lurched to starboard, and, terrified, I slipped back down the blade. My feet, bound back, on each side of the blade, were little more than a foot from the water. Again, frenzied, in terror, I tried to struggle. But, to my dismay, I was again held perfectly. I could not even begin to free myself. I was absolutely helpless. I had been bound by Gorean men.

I felt another stinging bite at my leg, where another of the heavy, leaping eels tried to feed. Again I inched my way painfully, by my thighs and forearms, higher on the blade. If we could get to free water I did not think the eels would pursue us far from the wharves and shore.

Then suddenly I realized I might have but moments before the ship managed to free itself and back into the river. Suddenly I allowed myself to slide down the blade. "Are you hungry, little friends?" I inquired. "Can you smell sweat and fear? Does blood make you mad? Leap, little brothers. Render me service." I looked down at several of the heavy, tapering heads projecting from the water, at the eyes like filmed stones. "Taste blood," I encouraged them. I thrust back against the blade. I tried to abraid my ankles against the steel.

I knew that the fastening of those jaws, in a fair bite, could gouge ounces of flesh from a man's body. Too I knew that the eel seldom takes its food out of the water, that such strikes, in all probability, had not been selected for. Accordingly, the only inward compensation for the refraction differential would presumably have to be learned by trial and error. More than one of the beasts had already struck the blade and not my body. But, too, they might not understand that the blood source was my body; they might understand, rather, only the point at which blood was entering the water.

The waters beneath me now fairly churned with activity. The ship moved backward a yard. "Help me swiftly, little friends," I begged. "Time grows short!" A large eel suddenly broke the surface tearing at the side of my abraded leg. I felt the teeth scratching and sliding along my leg, its head twisted to the side. Then it was back in the water. "Good, good," I called. "Nearly, nearly. Try again, big fellow!"

I watched the water, giving it time to swirl and circle, and then again, aligning itself, leap toward me. My left ankle, cut deliberately on the back of the blade, oozed blood, soaking the knotted ropes that held it. With the small amount of play given to me by the ropes on that ankle I must manage as best I can. Then, almost too quickly to be fully aware of it, I saw the returning shape erupting from the water. I thrust, as I could, my ankle towards it. Then I screamed in pain. The weight, thrashing and tearing, must have been some fifteen or twenty pounds. It was some seven feet in length. I threw my head back, crying out. My left ankle was clasped in the clenched jaws, with those teeth like nails. I feared I might lose my foot but the heavy ropes, doubled and twisted, and knotted, like fibrous shielding, muchly protecting me, served me well, keeping the teeth in large measure from fastening in my flesh.

The beast, suddenly, perhaps puzzled by the impeding cordage, shifted its grip. It began to tear then at the ropes. Its mouth must have been filled with blood-soaked, wire-like strands of rope. The blood doubtless stimulated it to continue its work. Its tail thrashed in the water. It twisted, and swallowed, dangling and thrashing. Then, its mouth filled with rope, pulled loose, it fell back into the water. Again I struggled. Again I was held. I struggled yet again, and this time heard the parting of fibers, ripping loose. I twisted against the blade, my ankles free, and, by the ropes on my wrists, swung myself up and behind the blade, getting my right leg over the upper part of the blade fixture.

"Ho!" cried a voice, angry, above me and to my right. I saw the spear blade draw back to thrust. I clung to the blade, crouching on the flat blade mount. Ropes were on my wrists, but my hands were separated by, say, a foot of rope, as I had been bound on the blade. When the spear struck toward me, I seized it, behind the blade, at the shaft rivets, and jerked it toward me. The fellow, unable in the moment to release the weapon, was dragged over the rail. He struck against the blade and, screaming, half cut open, slid into the water. The spear shaft was twisted from my grasp. The water churned beneath the blade. Bubbles exploded to the surface. It seemed scarlet. "Feed, little friends," I told them. "Feed well, and be thanked."

The flagship of Policrates was now, unimpeded, backing into open water. I sawed apart the rope joining my wrists on the cutting edge of the great blade. I heard battle horns. I did not understand this. On the wharves and along the water front I could see hundreds of citizens of Victoria. They were waving and brandishing their weapons. Pirates, naked and bound, roped together by the neck, lay on their bellies before them.

A ship to my left, _Spined Tharlarion_, the flagship of Ragnar Voskjard, was aflame. I heard a ram strike a ship nearby, with a great splintering of wood. This made no sense to me, for the pirate ships, so closely packed, so struggling, could not, even by accident, have achieved the momentum for such an impact.

Smoke stung my nostrils. I clung to the blade. The flagship of Policrates was now swinging about. I heard more battle horns, from both- upriver and downriver. I heard the devastating impact of yet another ram pounding into a hull somewhere. There was screaming from pirate ships.

I leaped from the blade mount to the port rail and, struggling, pulled myself upward. In a moment, crouching, I was on the deck of the ship. A man lunged toward me, with a sword. I dove under the blade and, seizing his ankles, utilizing his momentum, threw him upward and over my shoulders. He disappeared over the rail, grasping at it, screaming. Another man struck down at me and I, slipped to the side, seized him about the chest with my right arm and hurled him back against the forward wall of the high stem castle. He grunted. With the heel of my right hand under his chin I smashed his head back into the wood of the stem castle. He slumped to the deck. His sword was mine.

I heard, from somewhere to starboard, the splintering of another hull. Policrates was crying out orders on the height of the stem castle above me. I thrust the sword into the wood above me, where I could seize it, and, putting my feet and hands into the ornate carving of the stem castle, climbed a yard and a half from the deck. My heart leaped.

The river seemed alive with ships. I saw the _Tais_, captained by the indomitable Calliodorus, and other ships of Port Cos. They must needs be the fleet which Callisthenes had commanded, and had withdrawn to Port Cos, not permitting them to engage in the battle at the chain. With them, too, I saw ships with the banners of Tafa, Ven, Tetrapoli and even distant Turmus. They had come from the west, from downriver.

To starboard, from upriver, the river bristled with armed merchantmen. I saw the colors, there, of more than a dozen towns. The banners and pennons of Victoria were there, and of Fina and Hammerfest, of Sulport, Sais, Siba and Jasmine, of Jort's Ferry and Point Alfred, of Iskander, of Tancred's Landing and Forest Port. Too, among other pennons, I saw colors hailing from so afar east as White Water and Lara, at the very confluence of the Vosk and Olni. The patience of the honest men had at last been exhausted.

I drew the sword from the wood and leaped down to the deck. The flagship of Policrates rocked, struck by another pirate ship, it lurching to port. I lost my footing, and then regained it. I ran to the starboard rail and leaped down to the starboard shearing blade.

"Jason!" cried Callimachus, bound upon it.

In an instant I had severed the bonds which held his ankles and, holding his arms, cut apart the ropes that bound his wrists. He drew himself, trembling, to the blade mount. "You are free," he said "What is going on?"

"The towns are rising," I said. "They come from the east and the west, from upriver and downriver, with men and ships. In their heart is war. Policrates and the Voskjard are finished!"

"Get me a sword!" said Callimachus.

"Are you strong enough?" I asked. "There is little you need do."

"A sword!" said Callimachus. "I must have a sword!"

I grinned. "Doubtless one may be found on deck," I said.

Scarcely had we climbed to the deck than the pirate ship to starboard, shifting, grated laterally along the flagship. The shearing blades locked and we felt timber being torn from the sides of the ships.

"Back oars!" screamed Policrates, on the stem castle. "Back oars!" We heard a pirate ship, somewhere to starboard, being boarded. Callimachus strode to an oarsman. Oarsmen, of course, face the stern in rowing, for greater leverage. Callimachus drew the fellow's sword from his sheath. He looked about and then, white-faced, hurled himself over the rail. Callimachus looked up the stairs to the height of the stem castle. It was then that Policrates saw him. Behind him was Callisthenes. Two men rushed down the steps toward Callimachus. Policrates and Callisthenes drew their swords. I saw the two men fall, one to each side of Callimachus. I had scarcely seen his blade move. He was not unskilled with the weapon. Policrates and Callisthenes, white-faced, regarded him. "I am with you," I told him. "No," said Callimachus, "these are mine."

I regarded him. He smiled. "Fetch Ragnar Voskjard," he said. I grinned, and turned away from him. Behind me, in a moment, I heard the sound of swords.

I looked over the port rail. Some forty yards away, across the water, some hundred yards or so out in the river, off the wharves, half afire, I saw the ship of Ragnar Voskjard. Timbers and wreckage strewed the waters between the ships. I could almost cross to his ship on the debris between us. More battle horns sounded. Not far off I could hear the clash of weaponry betokening yet another fierce ingress of boarders upon the deck of some vessel of hapless buccaneers. A dozen ships off the wharves must have been in flames.

I bit at the leather binding on the handle of the sword I carried. I tore loose a strip of it and, with this cordage, improvised a wrist sling. If it were necessary to use my hands in the water I did not wish to risk losing the weapon. Then, clutching the weapon, the sling about my wrist, I vaulted the rail and, feet first, entered the water. I swam to a raft of planking. There is commonly little danger of eels near Victoria, save near the shadows and shallows of the wharves themselves.

Scarcely had I ascended the heavy planking then, approaching rapidly, bearing down on me, I saw a medium galley, thrusting itself between the flagship of Policrates and _Spined Tharlarion_, the flagship of Ragnar Voskjard. It flew the banners of Tafa. I dove to the port side of the vessel. In a moment I was caught in its bow wave and, lifted, hurled toward _Spined Tharlarion_. Sputtering, lifting my head, spitting water, trying to clear my eyes, I saw another shape approaching. I struck out for the hull of _Spined Tharlarion_.

The encroaching shape seemed to veer toward me, and then I realized, to my horror, that she intended to shear the starboard oars of _Spined Tharlarion_. I was now between the two vessels. There was a grating, shearing noise and snapping oars. I put out my hand and touched the strakes of the shuddering _Spined Tharlarion_. I saw the shearing blade sliding toward me. Scarring and ripping timber, snapping oars, it scraped and scored its way toward me. I dove under the ship. The greatest danger to a swimmer, incidentally, is not the blade itself, for its lower curve is usually at least a foot out of the water, and it is not difficult to avoid it. Indeed, one may even go between the blade and the ship on which it is mounted, if one wishes. The greatest danger to a swimmer, usually, is the grating together of hulls, behind the blades. Few captains are so skillful as to manage a clean, parallel shearing. Both ships are moving, and the angles vary instant by instant.

Looking above me, up through the water, I saw the long, lean hull of the attacking vessel pass overhead. Then there was a rending noise as it gouged the starboard strakes of _Spined Tharlarion_. It had come in at too sharp an angle. The hulls then, grinding, swung together. When I saw the light of open water between them I surfaced. I found myself in a welter of debris and splinters. Oars were thrusting out from the attacking vessel, to force the ships apart. I seized a broken oar from _Spined Tharlarion_, its blade gone, its shaft swinging loose in the thole port. I climbed on the oar, the sword dangling from its wrist sling. I got my hand to the wood beside the thole port. I could see the bench inside had been abandoned. I gathered many of the crew of _Spined Tharlarion_ had abandoned the vessel.

Using the oar and thole port I drew myself upward. In a moment I was over the rail and on the deck of _Spined Tharlarion_. The stem castle was empty. The few men on the decks did not attack me. I saw the attacking vessel moving backward, trying to maneuver. She would try to come in with her ram, and, doubtless, later board. The stem castle was empty. There was a figure on the stern castle. His back was to me. I saw him ripping away the insignia of the captain from his robes. Two pirates leapt overboard, on the port side. I hastened down the deck and raced up the stairs to the stern castle. He spun to face me, the golden cordage of the captain in his right hand. "Greetings, Ragnar Voskjard," I said to him, "I have come to fetch you."

He reached for his sword, but the point of my sword was in his belly. He removed his hand from the hilt of his blade.

"That is better," I said. "Now, on the deck, on your belly, to be stripped and bound."

He looked at me, in fury. I grinned, and, loosing the wrist sling of the sword, flung it into the deck beside me.

He looked at the sword, upright in the deck beside me.

"Now," I told him.

His eyes glinted.

Swiftly he attempted to draw his blade. Instantly I was before him and caught him with a balled fist, driven upward into his gut. He looked at me, sick, bent over. I then measured him, and, at my leisure, from the balls of my feet, with the full force of my shoulders and arm, struck him, spinning, from his feet. I walked over to where he had fallen. I dragged him back by his ankles to the center of the small, high deck of the stern castle, where I put him on his belly.

"You would be troublesome," I told him. I knelt across his body. "I was once a fighting slave," I told him. With strips of cloth cut from his garments I tied his hands behind his back. "Perhaps you even, at one time or another, have bet upon fellows such as I was." He moaned. "It is amusing, is it not," I asked, "that the great Ragnar Voskjard is now naught but the prisoner of an ex-fighting-slave?"

"Free me," he begged. I tightened the knots that confined him. "I will pay you much," he said. "What pay could compare with the pleasure of taking the Voskjard prisoner?" I asked. "Mercy," he said. "No," I said. "You need not have tied me so tightly," he said. "It amused me," I told him. I smiled to myself. It was a Gorean answer.

Suddenly the ship shook with a great impact. "We have been rammed!" cried the Voskjard. "It is the ship which sheared your starboard oars," I told him. "She flies, as I now see, the colors of Turmus."

"We shall sink!" cried the Voskjard. "Not immediately," I told him. I stood up, the bound Voskjard between my feet. "They are preparing to board, as I see," I said. "Surrender me to the men of Turmus," he begged. I, with the sword, then cut his garments from him. He was then naked between my feet. "You are my prisoner," I told him. From the straps of his sword belt I improvised a short leash for him. "Do not permit me to fall into the hands of those of Victoria!" he begged.

"You would have sacked their town. You have seen them fight," I said. "Keep me from the men of Victoria," he begged. "They are boarding now, many of them, the fellows of Turmus," I observed. "Give me to them," he begged.

"On your feet, Sleen," I told him. I dragged him to his feet by the leash. "Give me to the men of Turmus!" he begged. "And let them cheat me of my prisoner?" I asked. "Who are you?" he asked, frightened. "Jason," I told him, "Jason-of Victoria."

"No!" he cried. I then threw him from the lofty stern castle of _Spined Tharlarion_, bound, into the water. I then thrust my hand through the wrist sling of the sword and, seizing it, withdrew it from the wood. I waved to the fellows of Turmus, swarming onto the already listing deck of _Spined Tharlarion_. I then, feet first, leaped downward into the water, landing near the floundering Ragnar Voskjard. In a moment I had my hand on the short leash I had devised for his throat and, he on his back, helpless, my prisoner, was towing him toward the flagship of Policrates.

The battle, I gathered, was muchly over.

The Voskjard grunted, and half choked, as I hauled him, partly by the neck leash, partly by his arm, over the rail of the flagship of Policrates. I threw him on his belly, on the listing, awash deck, at my feet. The flagship of Policrates seemed deserted. She had been rammed. I did not think she would stay long afloat.

The waters off the Victoria wharves seemed crowded, but many of the ships were aflame.

The alarm bar was ringing in Victoria, but now in token of victory. There were crowds upon the concourse. Garlanded, white-clad maidens could be seen. At the front edge of the concourse, near the wharves, pirates, in rows, stripped and bound, lay on their bellies. Maidens cast flowers upon them, and some of these maidens, from their own heads, placed garlands upon the brows of the victors.

Ragnar Voskjard tried to rise, but my foot, thrust between his shoulder blades, pressed him rudely back to the deck. "Free me," he begged. "Be silent," I said. I then stood with my left foot on his back, holding him in place. I had thought that I had heard a noise. I then dragged him, half strangling him, up the sloping deck to the starboard rail, where, with a swift knot, I tied him to one of the uprights supporting the rail. He turned on his side, to regard me. "If the ship sinks," he said, hoarsely, "I am helpless."

"Yes," I said.

I turned about.

Forty feet away, down the deck, amidships, sword in hand, half crouching, blade ready, slowly approaching, I saw Kliomenes.

"You must have hidden," I told him, "perhaps in the lower hold. Then, when the ship was rammed, when the hold began to fill with water, you were forced upward, as an urt."

He continued to approach. I observed the point of the blade. The eyes of a man can lie. The point of the blade cannot.

"Where are Policrates and Callisthenes?" I asked.

"I do not know," he said.

"Free me. Free me!" cried Ragnar Voskjard.

"It is every man for himself," said Kliomenes. He then rushed fiercely upon me. I defended myself in four exchanges. Then he stepped back.

"Do not permit your arm to grow weary," I told him. "Perhaps you would give me your tunic," I said. "I do not wish to become chilled. The air on the river is cooler now."

With a cry of rage he again rushed upon me and, again, I merely defended myself.

Sometimes we were ankle-deep in the water on the deck and, sometimes, near the port rail, we fought in water to our knees. Twice he slipped, but I did not strike him.

Then he stood, knee deep in the water, soaked, gasping. "Remove your tunic," I told him.

With two hands holding the sword he stumbled toward me, exhausted, striking downward. I slipped to the side and my blade's point was then entered into his right side. He shuddered, bent over, his head over the water. "Discard your blade," I told him. He released the weapon. I stepped back, my blade ready. "Go to the starboard rail," I told him.

He waded to the starboard rail, and I followed him. A single stroke could have severed his spine.

"Kneel down," I told him, "facing me."

He did so.

"Remove your tunic," I told him.

He did so.

"You are my prisoner," I said.

"Don't strike me," he suddenly said.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," I said. "Turn about," I ordered him.

Frightened, he did so.

"Will I strike you?" I asked him.

"I do not know," he said.

"On your belly," I told him, "and place your hands, crossed, behind you."

He did this. "Will I strike you now?" I asked him.

"I do not know. I do not know!" he said.

I thrust the sword into the deck. "I have placed the sword in the deck," I told Kliomenes. "If you wish to attempt to escape, this would be an excellent time to do so." Kliomenes tensed. "You must consider such things as whether or not, should you do this, you could rise to your feet before I could, say break your neck or back, or take the sword and cut your head away. I leave such speculations, and decisions, to you."

Kliomenes moaned, and lay still. I picked up the tunic from the deck and, unhurriedly, tore some strips from it. I looked over the port rail. It was considerably lower now, given the listing of the ship, than the starboard rail. "I see that the fellows from Turmus have drawn away from _Spined Tharlarion_," I informed them. I threw the strips, torn from the bottom of the tunic onto Kliomenes. "Those are what I am going to bind you with," I told him. "They will be quite sufficient to hold you. Once you are bound with them you will have little opportunity for escape. I am now going to put on your tunic." I slipped the tunic over my head. Kliomenes lay quietly, trembling. He did not move. I laughed, and then knelt across his body.

"Listen closely, Kliomenes," I told him. "You will be able to hear, from the wharves at Victoria, the ringing of a hammer, pounding on iron, on an anvil. Do you hear it?"

"Yes," he said. "They are curving collars of iron, with chains attached, about the throats of your fellow pirates." He was silent. "Such collars are heavy and uncomfortable," I said. "I know. I have worn such collars. There is this to be said for them, however. They hold a man, perfectly." I then, with the strips of cloth torn from the tunic, bound Kliomenes' hands behind his back, tightly. He winced. "Are you bound well enough?" I asked. "Yes," he said. "Do you think such bonds will hold you?" I asked. "Yes!" he said. "Yes, what?" I asked. "Yes," he whispered, "-my captor."

I laughed, and stood up. "_Spined Tharlarion_ has gone down," I said. At that moment the deck of the flagship of Policrates gave a lurch in the water. I almost lost my footing. Kliomenes slid downward, toward the port rail. I seized him by the hair and pulled him again toward the starboard rail.

"We are sinking!" cried Ragnar Voskjard. He tried to free himself, but succeeded in doing little more than squirm choking on the deck, a stripped, tethered prisoner. I then freed his leash from the upright but then, to his dismay, passed it again about the upright and, holding Kliomenes' head close to the upright, fastened him to the other end of the leash. Both men, then, were tied by the neck, and closely together, about the stanchion.

"We are sinking!" said the Voskjard. "I believe you are right," I said. "And we are helpless!" cried the Voskjard. "I know," I said. "I have seen to it."

"Mercy, mercy!" cried the Voskjard. "Mercy!" cried Kliomenes, suddenly terrified, pulling his legs up, as water lapped about them. I stood by the rail. "Do you both beg for mercy?" I asked. "Yes, my captor!" cried Ragnar Voskjard. "Yes, my captor!" cried Kliomenes.

"Greetings," I called down, cheerily, to Callimachus and Tasdron, in a longboat, with other men, which had drawn alongside. The approach of the longboat had been visible to me, of course, for some time, from my standing position by the rail. It had not been visible, of course, to either Ragnar Voskjard or Kliomenes.

"Did I hear someone beg for mercy?" grinned Callimachus, looking upward.

"It is not impossible," I admitted.

"What have you up there?" he asked.

"A pair of neck-harnessed urts," I told him. "Do you think you might find collars for them?"

"Ashore," said Callimachus. "We will put them with the rest of the catch."

With the sword blade I slashed the strap that bound the two men about the stanchion. Then I pulled them to their feet and knotted together the two loose ends of the strap, thus again effectively putting them on a common leash. I then thrust them overboard, headfirst, into the arms of oarsmen who took them and, not gently, threw them to the bottom of the longboat.

I looked down into the longboat. "I see that you have found a tunic somewhere," I said.

"Policrates was kind enough to give me his," said Callimachus, gesturing to the floor of the longboat, near the bow. I grinned. There, lying together, stripped, bloody and trussed, were Policrates and Callisthenes.

"Will they live?" I asked Callimachus.

"I did not make their wounds lethal," said Callimachus. "Thus they may be saved for the quarries or the galleys."

I did not envy Policrates or Callisthenes, nor Kliomenes, nor Ragnar Voskjard. In the quarries and on the galleys the chains are heavy and the whips are swift.

"Come aboard," said Callimachus. He extended his hand to me. I slipped over the rail of the flagship of Policrates, and entered the longboat.

"The day is ours," I said.

"It is ours," said Callimachus. We embraced. I took my position on a thwart amidships, between two oarsmen, and he took his place on a thwart near the stern, before the helmsman. "Put in to shore," said Callimachus to the helmsman. "Yes, Captain," said he.

The oars entered the water. The bow turned toward Victoria. There the alarm bar was ringing in victory. I could hear, too, the shouting of crowds and the singing of maidens. Looking aft I saw the flagship of Policrates subside beneath the surface of the river. The drag of its subsidence pulled momentarily against the headway of the longboat and then, after churning ripples, the narrow, shallow-drafted ship gone, the waters were smooth. I looked to the bottom of the longboat. There, naked and bound, at our feet, lay our enemies. I could hear, too, from the wharves of Victoria, the ringing of the hammer, closing links of chain and curving collars of iron about the throats of helpless pirates. I lifted my head, and looked ahead. Victoria lay ahead. I was pleased.