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stood near a tall catapult on the afterdeck, speaking to an officer, and
pointing to Blade on the
Pphira
. The offer nodded and yelled commands. The catapult was loaded and levered
back Thwanggggg.
The boulder smashed six feet of railing just abaft of Blade. He did not move.
Arrows flailed the air as the catapultas went into action. They threw six foot
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arrows that passed with a nasty hissing sound. Pelops and Ixion were both
crouching on all fours. Blade remained upright. He was conscious that every
man aboard
Pphira was watching him. He must set an example now that would last into the
future if there was to be a future. So he ignored the urge to duck, the leaden
feeling in his legs and belly, the ice along his spine. It would soon be over
one way or the other.
They were within bowshot now. The hissing flights of arrows came in serried
clouds that darkened the skies. Blade began to lose men. Pelops reverted to
form for a moment and whimpered. Blade scowled him into silence. An arrow
slashed off his helmet, another went through the loose sleeve of his jerkin.
Blade smiled at Ixion.
"In port oars. Lower the beat on the starboard side. Prepare to drop the
boarding gangway. Post men at bow and stern with grapnels. When we strike all
rowing slaves are to find weapons and join the attack."
The boarding gangway Blade had remembered from his study of ancient sea
battles. It was a hasty improvised job, a long wooden bridge four feet in
width now tied up against the main mast. When the lines were slashed it would
fall across the rail of the flagship. The Sarmaians knew of, and used,
grapnels.
Of the boarding gangway they had never heard.
Blade brought down the oar beat again. They were drifting close to the
flagship. The air around
Blade was filled with snakes, a constant sshhh-sshhh-shss-shss
The voice of Equebus came roaring over the din. "Kill Blade! He there at the
tiller. Every man fire at
Blade!"
Three arrows plucked at Blade, one after the other, nipping his flesh and
tearing at his armor. Ixion
took an arrow in the throat and went down writhing and screaming and trying to
tear it out with his bare hands. Pelops gave a cry that had little human in
it.
Blade left the tiller, Pphira having nearly lost way and drifting, and sprang
to gather up the leather trumpet. He lifted it and roared at the top of his
voice.
"Prepare to board. Drop the gangway when we touch. Watch me. Keep your eyes on
me!"
They drifted closer. They were in under the catapults now and safe from all
but the arrows and lances, but that fire was steady and deadly. Blade strode
to the head of the companionway and stood looking down at his men. Slaves,
every one of them, but slaves with weapons in their hands and a determination
that warmed him. He raised his sword and they let out a great cry even as the
arrows and lances bled them. They were so closely packed on the fighting deck
that men who died could not fall.
The cry went up. "Blade Blade Blade!"
"B-Blade!" It was Pelops, behind Blade, holding his sword aloft with a shaking
hand.
"Brave little man," said Blade, hoping he was right. "Follow me and watch out
for yourself."
The ships crunched together.
Blade yelled: "Grapnels over. Drop the gangway. Over the rails and kill the
bowmen first. Keep the gangway clear. Keep it clear!"
He leaped down to the deck. Sword in his right hand, stabbing dagger in his
left. An arrow plunked off his chest armor. Men made a way for him as he ran
toward the gangway now fallen and resting on the rail of the flagship. After
the first impact the
Pphira had rebounded, drifted a bit, and now two feet of water separated the
two ships.
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"Tug your grapnels," Blade screamed as he pelted toward the gangway. "Bring
her in close and bind her."
He leaped up on the gangway. He must be first over. Someone tossed him a
shield.
The shield saved his life as a hail of arrows swept the gangway. Blade raised
his sword and ran forward, yelling at the top of his voice.
"To me. Follow me! Board board! Mercy to slaves none to masters!"
Grapnels brought the two ships together again. They kissed. Blade's slaves
swarmed over the rails in a screaming, hacking, howling mass of retribution.
An officer leaped to the gangway and met Blade as he charged. The swords
chimed, sparking, and
Blade feinted his opponent's shield high and ran him through the belly. The
dying man fell forward, clutching Blade's weapon, and as he tried to wrest it
free another officer aimed a terrible blow at him with a battle-axe. Blade
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