“ Hya!” Val cried, “My lord Kta! Ship astern!”

There was, amid the gray haze, a tiny object that was not a part of the sea or the shore. Kta swore.

“They cannot help but overhaul us, my lord!”

“That much is sure,” said Kta, and then lifted his voice to the crew. “Men, if that is Edrifastern, we have a fight coming. Arm yourselves and check your gear; we may not have time later. Kurt, my friend,—” Kta turned and faced him, “When they close, as I fear they will, keep away from exposed areas. The Sufaki are quite accurate bowmen. If we are rammed, jump and try to find a bit of wood to cling to. Use sword or ax, whatever you wish, but I do not plan to be boarding or boarded if I can prevent it. Badly as we both want Shan t’Tefur, we dare not risk it.”

The intervening space closed slowly. Nearer view confirmed the ship as Edrif,a sixty-oared longship, and Tavi,though of newer and swifter design, had ten of her fifty benches vacant. At the moment only twenty oars were working.

“ Ei,” said Kta to the men in the rowers’ pits on either side of him—the other twenty also seated and ready, six of the deck crew taking vacant posts to bring Tavi’s oarage closer to normal strength. “ Ei,now, keep the pace, you rowers, as you are, and listen to me. Edrifis stalking us, and we will have to begin to move. Let none of us make a mistake or hesitate; we have no margin and no relief. Skill must save us, skill and discipline and experience; no Sufak ship can match us in that—Now, now, run out the rest of the oars. Hold, you other men, hold!”

The cadence halted briefly, Tavi’s twenty working oars poised creaking and dripping until the other twenty-six were run out and ready. Kta gave the count himself, a moderate pace. Edrifgained steadily, her sixty oars beating the sea. Figures were now discernible on her deck.

Kurt made a quick descent to seize a blade from a rack in the companionway, and on second thought exchanged it for a short-handled ax, such as was properly designed for freeing shattered rigging, not for combat. He did not estimate that his lessons with Kta had made him a fencer equal to a nemet who had handled the ypanall his life, and he did not trust that all Sufaki shunned the ypanin favor of the bow and the knife.

He delayed long enough to dress too, to slip on a pelbeneath the ctanand belt it, for the wind was bitter, and the prospect of entering a fight all but naked did not appeal to him.

When he had returned to the deck, even after so brief a time, Edrifhad closed the gap further, so that her green dragon figurehead was clear to be seen above the water that boiled about her metal-shod ram. A stripe-robed officer stood at her bow, shouting back orders, but the wind carried his voice away.

“Prepare to turn full about,” Kta shouted to his own crew. “Quick turn, starboard bank—stand by—Turn! Hard about,— hard!”

Tavichanged course with speed that made her timbers groan, oars and helm bringing her about three-quarters to the wind, and Kta was already shouting an order to Pan.

The dark blue sail with the lightning emblem of Elas billowed down from the yard and filled, deck crew hauling to sheet it home. Tavicame alive in the water, suddenly bearing down on Edrifwith the driving power of the wind and her forty-six oars.

Frenzied activity erupted on the other deck. Edrifbegan to turn, full broadside for a moment, continuing until she was nearly stern on. Her dark green sail spread, but she could not turn with graceful Tavi’s speed, and her crew hesitated, taken by surprise. Tavihad the wind in her own sail, stealing it from theirs.

“Portside oars!” Kta roared over the thunder of the rowing. “Stand by to ship oars portside!— Hya,Val!”

“Aye!” Val shouted back. “Understood, my lord!”

A shout of panic went up from Edrifas Taviclosed, and Kta shouted to the portside bank as they headed for collision. Tavi’s two banks lifted from the water, and with frantic haste the men portside shipped oars while the starboard rowers held their poised level.

With the final force of wind and gathered speed, Tavibrushed the side of Edrif,the Sufak vessel’s starboard oars splintering as shouts of pain and panic came from her pits. Sufaki rowers deserted their benches and scrambled for very life, their officers cursing at them in vain.

“Take in sail!” Kta shouted, and Tavi’s blue sail began to come in. Quickly she lost the force of the wind and glided under momentum.

“Helm!” Kta shouted. “Starboard oars—in water—and pull!”

Taviwas already beginning to turn about under her helm, and the one-sided bite of her oars took her hard about again, timbers groaning. There was a crack like a shot and a scream: one of the long sweeps had snapped under the strain and tumbled a man bleeding into the next bench—the next man leaned to let him fall, but kept the pace, and one of the deck crew ran to aid him, dragging him from the pit. Arrows hissed across the deck—Sufaki archers.

“Portside oars!” Kta shouted, as those men, well-drilled, had already run out their oars to be ready. “All hold! In water—and pull!”

Forty-five oars hit the water together, muscles rippled across glistening backs—stroke—and stroke—and stroke, and Edrifastern and helpless with half her oarage hanging in ruin and her deck littered with splinter-wounded men. The arrows fell short now, impotent. The breathing of Tavi’s men was in unison and loud, like the ship drawing wind, as if all the crew and the ship they sailed had become one living entity as she drove herself northward, widening the distance.

“First shift,” Kta shouted. “Up oars!”

With a single clash of wood the oars came up and held level, dipping and rising slightly with the give of the sea and the oars-men’s panting bodies.

“Ship oars and secure. Second shift,—hold for new pace. Take your beat—Now—two—three—”

They accepted the more leisurely pace, and Kta let go a great sigh and looked down at his men. The first shift still leaned over the wooden shafts, heaving with the effort to breathe. Some coughed rackingly, striving with clumsy hands to pull their discarded cloaks up over their drenched shoulders.

“Well done, my friends,” said Kta. “It was very well done.”

Lun and several others lifted a hand and signaled a wordless salute, without breath to speak.

“ Hya,Pan,—you men. It was as fine a job as I have seen.—Get coverings for all those men in the pits. A sip of water too. Kurt, help there, will you?”

Kurt moved, glad at last to find himself useful, and took a pitcher of water to the side of the pit. Two of the men were overcome with exhaustion and had to be lifted out and laid on the deck beside the man whose splintered oar had gashed his belly. It proved an ugly wound, but the belly cavity was not pierced. The man was vowing he would be fit for duty in a day, but Kta ordered otherwise.

Edrifwas far astern now, a mere speck, not attempting to follow them. Val gave the helm to Pan and walked forward to join Kta and Kurt.

“The hull took it well,” Val reported. “Chal just came up from checking it. But Edrifwill be a while mending.”

“Shan t’Tefur has a mighty hate for us,” said Kta, “not lessened by this humiliation. As soon as they can bind up their wounds and fit new oars, they will follow.”

“It was bloody chaos on her deck,” said Val with satisfaction. “I had a clear view of it. Shan t’Tefur has reason to chase us, but those Sufaki seamen may decide they have had enough. They ought to know we could have sunk them if we had wished.”

“The thought may occur to them, but I doubt it will win us their gratitude. We will win as much time as we can.” He scanned the pits. “I have not pulled an oar in several years, but it will do me no harm. And you, friend Kurt, you are due gentler care after what you have endured, but we need you.”