Perhaps. But suppose a force of tough, well-armed men came out of the darkness to fight the Steppemen among the boats? Suppose the Steppemen were taken by surprise as badly as they'd taken the pirates?
The fishing boat shoved off, sailors and soldiers all manning the oars together. On shore the fires still grew. They seemed to be silhouetting the Steppemen nicely, without sending much light out to sea. Blade grinned savagely.
Behind him he beard an occasional faint thump or clatter as the rowers took their places, but there was little noise. All of these men knew their ship blindfolded, and all of them were entirely sober. The pirates had sent some wine aboard for Kukon's men during the afternoon, but Dzhai had promptly locked it up.
«Anybody breaks out the wine,» he snapped, «I'll throw the jug overboard and him after it! Then he can drink all he wants from the sea!» Not even the toughest of the men wanted to argue the point with Dzhai. By now he could do easily with one arm things that most men had trouble doing with two, including breaking the heads of unruly sailors.
Blade raised both arms, then dropped them in a silent signal to the rowers. The oars ran out and Kukon began to move slowly toward the land.
The pirates there seemed to be rapidly awakening now. The shadows around the huts were alive with moving figures, stumbling and lurching and shouting in fear or warning or drunken defiance as they ran. Anybody who wasn't awake by now might not live long enough to wake up. The Steppemen were moving steadily along the beach, and some of them were also among the huts. Flames were spurting up from at least three thatched roofs, pouring more light over the battlefield but still leaving the water in shadow. The boats from Kukon were nearly in range now. If the darkness over the water lasted just another couple of minutes
It lasted until suddenly the flash and rattle of muskets broke it apart. Between the musket shots Blade could hear the wicked metallic snick of crossbows. Every man in the two boats was picking a target. Most of the men brought their targets down. Blade saw the Steppemen on the beach waver. A ripple seemed to run through them, like grass rippling in a high wind. Then the lines and clusters were breaking up and scattering, leaving dozens of dark forms on the ground. Some writhed and screamed; others lay still.
The men in the boats reloaded frantically. Blade saw one yellow flash, heard one hissing explosion and then a scream of agony as a man set off his powder accidentally. Blade held his breath, half expecting the boat to disintegrate in a roaring explosion. Instead he heard a splash and then another hiss. The burning man had jumped overboard to put out the fire, willing to drown rather than risk endangering his comrades.
The rippling rattle of muskets and bows came again. More Steppemen went down or reeled back. Some were taking cover behind the pirate's boats along the beach.
The light was bright enough now that Kukon's two boats stood out clearly. Blade saw the men dig in their oars again. The boats surged forward and ran up onto the beach. Before they'd stopped moving, the men in them were leaping over the sides and wading to shore, holding their bows and muskets high, reloading and recocking as they moved. Blade saw Prince Durouman splashing furiously through the water, brandishing his mace, to take the lead.
Blade looked out to sea. Lanterns and torches now glowed aboard some of the pirate galleys. Drums and trumpets rolled and called out. Boats were putting off from other galleys, but none of them were moving yet. For a while longer the battle against the Steppemen would be in the hands of the pirates on land, with whatever help Kukon and her landing parties could bring them.
Then new sounds joined the uproar on land. Blade caught the unmistakable rapid roll of the horse drums of the Steppemen and behind them the swelling sound of hundreds of fast-moving hooves. The Steppemen were pushing in their main attack. If it struck now, it might sweep right into the pirates' camp. It would certainly sweep away Kukon's landing party. Just as certainly, it had to be stopped.
Blade roared orders to the gunners around him. Then he spun around and called out to Dzhai. There was no need for him to speak quietly now-a raging thunder storm would have been drowned out in the crash and roar of the battle. Kukon's rowers put their backs into a faster stroke without waiting for a signal from the drummers. The men at the tiller heaved furiously, feet scrabbling on the deck. The rudder went hard over and Kukon began to turn.
As she did, the first line of enemy horsemen swept out of the darkness. They were moving along the shore at a fast trot, eyes forward, swords in their hands, guiding their horses by the pressure of their knees. They were so completely intent on pressing home their charge against their enemies on land that they did not think of the sea, or of what might come from it. So Kukon caught them totally by surprise when she swept out of the darkness and fired her bow guns into their ranks.
All four guns went off together with a flash and a shock that temporarily blinded everyone on the foc'sle and knocked everyone except Blade flat on the deck. Before anyone could rise or regain his sight, Blade's ears told him that Kukon's salvo had reached its target.
All four guns had been crammed to the muzzle with every stray bit and piece of matter the ship's gunners could find. Beach stones, nails, jagged chunks of wood, old musket balls and old muskets-flying death in a thousand shapes tore through the Steppemen. A hideous chorus from screaming men and screaming horses filled the night, nearly as deafening as the blast of the guns, drowning out every other sound just as thoroughly.
Blade opened his eyes and looked toward the land. The details of the slaughter, mercifully, were half lost in the darkness. At least two hundred Steppemen must have gone down. Nearly as many more had fallen as their horses stumbled over corpses or panicked at the blood and mangled bits splattered all over them.
Blade also saw that Kukon was coming up fast on the shore-much too fast. In their enthusiasm to get in close and get at the enemy, Dzhai and the rowers had worked too hard. Before Blade could open his mouth to shout an order, Kukon ran aground with a tremendous jolt and a horrible grating sound as her keel ploughed over the gravel of the beach.
This time everyone aboard went off his feet. Blade included. Screams sounded as some men fell over benches or were hit by the flailing ends of oars. Other men went clear over the side.
Blade scrambled to his feet. There was no need to tell the gunners what to do. They were getting up as fast as he was and leaping to clean and reload their pieces. He sprang up onto the heavy gun and looked at the scene on shore again.
It was impossible to make out what was happening among the tribesmen's huts. Flames rose in a dozen places. Around the flames, lost in their glare or lost in shadow, swirled scores and hundreds of savagely fighting men. Blade could hear a continuous roar of cries and shots and the clash of steel.
Beyond the piles of dead or dying men and horses, more Steppemen were riding out of the darkness. These saw Kukon. Some of them realized what she was, some of them realized what she had done-and some of them even realized who the tall man standing on her bow was. Steppemen began leaping off their horses, slinging their swords across their backs, and unslinging bows and quivers. Arrows began to whistle toward Kukon, sinking into her timbers and sometimes into the bodies of her men.
Under cover of the archers, other dismounted Steppemen began picking their way over the bodies of their comrades, heading for Kukon. Blade saw these men coming on, heard the whistle of arrows around him and the screams from his own crew. He realized that the Steppemen had thoughts of capturing Kukon. He also realized that they very well might do it. The pirates on land weren't going to help-they were much too busy with their own battle. Prince Durouman's men-where the devil were they?