Dzhai nodded, and the axe flashed in the gloom as he swung it over his head. Then it was flying through the air toward Blade, settling into his hand as neatly as a homing bird.
Chapter 14
Blade knew he had to work fast. Nothing, not even a pirate boarding party, would keep a slavemaster or an officer from killing a slave he saw trying to escape. A live man was lying across the heavy iron ring in the deck to which Blade's chain was attached. Blade prodded the man in the ribs, not gently. He rolled clear.
Blade went to work, hacking away furiously at the deck. Splinters flew and the wood began to gape white around the ring.
Blade shifted his grip on the axe, now smashing the back of the head against the ring. Bit by bit, he felt it loosening. He dropped the axe and bent down to grip the ring with both hands. Every muscle and every breath in Blade's body went into a single tremendous heave. Torn wood groaned, strained metal protested, and the ring sprang out of the deck so suddenly that Blade nearly lost his balance and sprawled backward again.
He stayed on his feet and snatched up the axe from the deck. «Here,» he said, thrusting it into the hands of the nearest slave. The man gaped at Blade, gaped at the axe, then suddenly realized what he held in his hands and started hacking away at the deck as furiously as Blade had done.
So far no one had noticed Blade, either pirates or Kukon's own fighters, but that might change at any moment. Blade looked around for a weapon. All of the living fighters were on the starboard gangway, and none of the bodies lay anywhere near Blade.
As he looked around, he saw an eight-foot length of shattered oar lying almost at his feet. He picked it up and swung it experimentally. It wasn't a perfect weapon, but it was the best he could do and anybody he hit with it wasn't going to get up again for a while. Blade lifted the oar in both hands, raising it high over his head. Then he advanced into the battle, the chain on his ankle clattering behind him.
He reached the starboard side just as the first pirate leaped across onto an undefended portion of the gangway. Blade let out a yell and charged. The pirate saw a gigantic, naked figure charge out of the smoke at him, a figure smeared from head to foot with soot and blood, whirling a broken oar around his head like a straw and bellowing at the top of his lungs.
The pirate stopped in midstride, his mouth open and his sword frozen over his head. If he didn't die of fright in that moment, he died seconds later as Blade swung the oar. The lead-weighted end crashed against the pirate's skull and he vanished over the side as if he'd dissolved into the smoke.
Blade sprang up onto the gangway and thrust the oar forward. The splintered end caught a pirate in the mouth as he clambered over his own ship's bulwarks. He roared an oath through smashed teeth and tried to climb back to safety. Blade whirled the oar end for end, smashing it down on the man's shoulder. He screamed, lost his grip, and splashed into the water between the two ships.
A third pirate sprang into view. He held a loaded musket, swinging the muzzle toward Blade. Blade jabbed forward with the weighted end of the oar and caught the pirate in his unprotected stomach. The man gasped and toppled over backward. The musket clattered to the deck beside him and went off with a bang. Blade threw the oar into the murk ahead of him, then leaped after it onto the pirate galley's deck. He had always been a believer in carrying the fight to the enemy.
The pirate who'd carried the musket was gasping and trying to sit up. Blade chopped him across the throat with the edge of his right hand. Someone in the smoke fired at Blade, sending a ball whistling close over his head. Blade dropped flat on the deck, in case there were more muskets out there. With his left hand he groped for the fallen oar. Two pirates loomed above him. Blade swung the oar like a scythe across their legs. They yelled and fell forward. Blade jumped up as they fell, landing with all his weight on one man's back. He kicked the other one in the head, took a good two-handed grip on the oar, and sprang forward.
How many men Blade killed or drove over the side of the pirate galley in the next few minutes, he never knew. He could not even have made an intelligent guess to save his life. Somehow he swept the pirate's deck from end to end, with nothing but a broken oar, his own colossal strength made greater by his rage, and the sheer terror he inspired in the pirates.
As Blade cleared the pirate's deck, her boarding party died one by one at the hands of Kukon's fighting men and a growing number of freed slaves. Eventually Blade found himself standing on the enemy's deserted deck, looking back over a litter of corpses toward Kukon. Kukon's captain and the bearded man stood side by side, staring back at him.
A voice Blade recognized as Dzhai's began shouting for the rowers to get back to work. Blade heard the rattle and splash of oars being run out. He ran back along the pirate's deck and sprang aboard Kukon just as she pulled clear of the enemy. Looking over the side, he saw the pirate's ram break free and remain stuck in Kukon's side. Good. That would help to plug the leak until they could work out something better.
Now the rowers bent to their oars with a strength Blade would not have thought was left in them. He noticed that a good many slaves now stood at bow and stern, holding swords, bows, and muskets. A good many sailors and soldiers, on the other hand, now strained over oars. There were no live slavemasters anywhere in sight, and only two dead ones on the deck. Blade was not surprised at that, nor did he much care. The slavemasters would not be missed.
Kukon backed slowly away from her derelict enemy. Blade started forward, looking for Dzhai. It was time to get a party down into the hold to check the leak from the ramming. A bucket brigade would probably be enough for the moment.
As he moved, Blade looked out across the water. As hard as he strained his eyes, he could see almost nothing except a swirling, gray-white murk, with orange flame flaring up briefly here and there. Once he thought he saw the dim bulk of a ship, distorted and wavering, but he couldn't be sure of that or of anything else he saw in the smoke. It was as if a fogbank had risen from the sea to swallow up the rest of the battle.
Blade was hardly going to complain about that. He would be quite happy if all the rest of both fleets stayed swallowed up in their own smoke for several hours. That would give Kukon time enough to get away, repair some of her damage, sort out her mixed crew, and be ready to flee or fight again.
Blade reached the galley's stern, noticed that the cabins had been shattered by the exploding gun, and looked forward again. The beat of the oars quickened. Now he recognized Dzhai on the foc'sle, supervising a crew working to remount the two disabled guns. He had the axe stuck in his belt now, along with the sword, to leave himself a hand free.
Then a gun boomed in the smoke and a ball whistled low over the sea, skipping off the water in a burst of spray and sailing only feet over Kukon's deck. Blade controlled the urge to duck, looked off to starboard, and swore.
A pirate galley was closing fast on Kukon, racing along in a cloud of foam and spray. She was apparently undamaged except for the loss of her masts, and her guns were all manned. More men were lined up on her deck, ready to board when the moment came. She was closing in to ram Kukon on the already damaged starboard side. Kukon could not move fast enough to escape the blow and she could hardly survive a second ramming, even if she could fight off another boarding party.
Blade stopped swearing. It was a waste of breath. The pirate galley had to be stopped or slowed, and the guns were the only way to do it. Blade ran forward, leaping a gap in the gangway, and reached the foc'sle. The bearded man was yelling at the rowers, and Kukon was already beginning to swing around to meet the enemy bows-on. They wouldn't be able to avoid the ramming that way, but they would make it easier for the bow guns to bear.