Raiders of Gor (31 page)

attack, as though I was confused, startled.

I signaled my trumpeter to transmit the command “Rest oars.” The same message

was run up the halyard to the height of the stem castle.

Over the faint music coming from the distant ships, now approaching, I could

hear her war trumpets and, with the glass, observe her flags. Whereas I did not

know exactly the codes employed by the treasure fleet, I had little doubt that

our hesitation was being signaled about the fleet, and then I heard other

trumpets, and saw the round ships drawing apart, and tarn ships streaking

between them, fanning out in our direction.

I slapped shut the glass of the builders and laughed. “Excellent!” I cried.

Thurnock, near me, the tooth missing on his upper right side, grinned.

“Helmsmen about,” I said. “Oar-master, half beat.”

I did not even, following my plan, signal this move to my other ships. I wished

to appear that we were turning, suddenly fearing, in flight. I wanted it to

appear that the other ships must take their cue to action from our own, as

though, in fear and confusion, we had not even signaled them. I heard more

trumpets from across the water. Some of these were from the enemy fleet. Others,

brief notes, interrogations, demands for clarification, were from my own ships.

They had good commanders. I listened to the flutes and drums of the ram-ships of

the treasure fleet. A javelin, with tarred, buring blade, fell hissing into the

water, some hundred yards away.

I snaped open the builder’s glass again.

I counted, clearly, some twenty ships, fanned out in a long enveloping line

moving toward us.

The Dorna had now come about and, at half beat, was moving southeast, directly

away from the pursuing ships.

The other eleven ships with me were, not too gracefully, by intention, coming

about to join me in my flight.

I ordered the trumpeter and the man on the flags to now signal flight to them.

These twelve ships, including the Dorna, incidentally, were my swiftest. It

seemed probable, with a decent start, which we had, we could stay ahead of the

pursuing ram-ships, if we chose, either indefinitely, or, if they were faster,

which I doubted, at least for several Ahn.

We were not moving, of course, at only half beat.

I wished our pursuit to be tempting.

It was.

Anothered tarred, flaming javelin fell hissing into the water. This time in fell

only fifty yards astern.

In another quarter of an Ahn I could count thirty ram-ships engaged in our

pursuit. IF there were more, I could not see them. The treasure fleet itself lay

to.

I watched a burning javelin from the lead ship of the pursuers arc gracefully

and smoking through the air and drop hissing into the water some fifteen yards

to my right, abeam of stern.

I smiled. “Three quarters beat,” I recommended to our oar-master.

My vessels as though in terror, were keeping no formation, but apparently

scattering across the southeast. Each had picked up two or three pursuers. My

own ship, perhaps recongnized as the probablye flagship, it having been first in

the original formation, was honored by five pursuers. After two Ahn, sometimes

increasing the beat, sometimes decreasing it, depending on whether or not we

wished to avoid being actually overtaken or we wished to encourage our pursuers,

we had spread them behind us in a long, straggling line, its spacing an index to

the speed of their individual ships.

By this time, of course, the balance of my fleet, eighteen ram’ships, would have

struck the treasure fleet, now protected only by some ten ram-ships, from the

northwest.

I was puzzled somewhat, but not too much, that our pursuit had been so

relentless.

I had flown the flag of Bosk, from the marshes, boldly trusting that this

incitement would encourage prompt and fierce pursuit. Doubtless in Cos and Tyros

there was a high price indeed on my head. I was puzzled only that the pursuit

had been as relentless and prolonged as it was. I had not realized my importance

to the men of the two island Ubarates. I chuckled. Apparently I was more

significant to them than I had fancied myself.

It was the twelfth Ahn before the commander of the first pursuing ship

understood either that had been tricked or that he was not likely to overtake

our ships.

“Rest oars!” I called.

I watched the tarn ship heave to, then port oars, and turn away.

“How are the men?” I asked the oar-master.

It was he who had been oar-master on the Rena of Temos.

“They are strong,” he said, “You did not even call maximum beat.”

“Rest them now,” I said.

There were trumpet signals now from the ship that had been pursuing us, and

flags on her halyards. The ships behind her began turning about. Some of the

ships to the sides, perhaps having seen the flags with glasses from their stem

or stern castles, also ceased the pursuit. Others were out of visual range,

scattered somewhere on Thassa.

As soon as I saw the tarn ship which had been pursuing us begin to move away, I

gave my orders.

“Come about,” I said, “and maximum beat.”

There was a cheer from the oarsmen.

I had little doubt the Dorna was swifter than the ship that had pursued her.

She was now moving way, perhaps at half beat.

I did not think she would have time to turn about again.

We fired no missile, and gave no warning.

We were within fifty yards of her before a seaman on her stern castle, looking

back, screamed the warning.

The iron-shod ram of the Dorna splintered into her stern a foot below water

line.

“Back oars!” came the cry from the oar-master, and the Dorna, rocking and

shuddering from the impact, chopped her way backward.

“Helmsmen pass to starboard!” I called. “Stroke, Maximum beat!”

The stern of the enemy ship was already under water as she slipped past her.

Crossbow quarrels struck the reinforced parapet protecting my rowers.

There wee no other missiles.

We heard screams, cries of alarm.

There were still fourn ships ahead of us. The nearest was not more than a

hundred yards before the one we had just struck.

The noice of our strike and the cries of the men aboard the rammed ship carried

over the water.

We saw the ship ahead of us trying to come about, but, before she could make

four points of the Gorean compass, or ram struck the corner of her stern,

skidding through and freeing itself, the ships, the Dorna’s port ors inboard,

grating together, and the the Dorna was clear, free, and we were driving toward

the stern of the next ship.

We heard trumpets blaring behind us frantically, trying to warn the ship ahead

of us.

It, too, began to come about, and we caught her amidships, the ram thrusting

through the heavy planking like kindling, then stopped by the shield, like a

spread tarn’s crest, and we chopped our way back and free, and then knifed past

her stern toward the next two ships.

By this time the two ships ahead of us wee well aware of their danger and, given

he distances involved, neither captain elected to chance the dangerous maneuver

of coming about to meet us. Both were fleeing at maximum beat.

“Half of maximum beat,” I told the oar-master.

The oar-master grinned, and went to the center of the rowing frame.

As the beat dropped, I took out the glass of the builders and scanned the

horizon.

I could see few ships, but most of those I swa were green, my own. I could see

the wreckage of two of the enemy tarn ships. I was quite content, of course, if

each of my ships not in view were continuing to lead their pursuers a merry

chase. If each of them could lure their two or three hounds astray, the oods of

engagement at the truly critical points would be so much the more in my favor. I

was willing to spend one ship to draw two or three enemy ships from the battle,

if battle there was to be. And, of course, as soon as he enemy ships would turn

back, they would be vulnerable to my own, presumably faster vessels. Of the

twelve ships in my diversion, five were my fastest and seven were among the

fastest in the arsenal.

I now turned the glass again to the ship fleeing me. As I had expected, he had

now begun to dawn substantially ahead, since I had reduced to half to maximum

beat. In another four or five Ehn I expected he would regard his lead as

sufficient to permit him the time to safely come about and engage. He would

assuming, of course, that I, in pursuing him, was at maximum beat, as he was. I

had held my beat to had of maximum. My oar-master had been calling beat, this

time, by mouth from the center of the rowing frame.

When I saw the tarn ship ahead, its captain doubtless confident of his speeds

and distances, lift her oars, preparing to come about, I called to the

oar-master, “Now!”

Without the loss of a stroke he, at the center of the rowing frame, began to

call maximum beat, “Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!”

The Dorna, stern low, ram almost lifted from the water, leapt ahead, as

beautiful, as eager and vicious as an unleashed sleen.

We took the fourth ship amidships, as we had the third.

Angrily the Dorna shook herself loose.

Then, in an Ehn, we were in pursuit of the last ship. It showed no sign of

turning. It was now far in advance of us.

“Maximum beat,” said the oar-mater to his keleustes, and then came to stand

beside me on the stern castle.

“Can we catch her?” I asked.

“Hand me your glass,” he asked.

I did so.

“Do you know the ship?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

He looked at her for better than an Ehn, studying the rise and fall, the sweep,

of the oars.

Then he said, “Yes, we can catch her.”

He handed me back the glass

He then went down the steps of the stern castle, to the helm deck, and then down

to the chair of the oar-master.

“Three quarters beat.” I heard him tell the keleustes.

I did not question him. I knew him to be a good oar-master.

From time to time I observed the distand ship growing father and father away.

But after about an Ahn and a half, when I again raised the glass. I saw that she

was not much father way than she had been when last I had looked. My own men

were still drawing a strong three quarters beat.

The oar-master again joined me on the stern castle. He did not ask for the glass

again.

“She carrieds one hundred and thirty-two oars,” he said. “but she is a heavier

ship, and her lines are not as good as those of the Dorna.”

“Apparently,” I said, “she has had to reduce her beat.”

“She will be at three quarters now,” he said, “as we are. One cannot maintain

maximum beat that long. And, at three quarters we can overtake her.”

“Thank you,” said I, “Oar-master.”

He returned to his chair.

Doubtless it would soon become evident to our enemy also that she could not

outrun us. Accordingly, sooner or later, she would turn to fight.

After a quarter of an Ahn, in the distance, I could see her, at last, come

about.

“Quarter of maximum,” I called to the oar-master. Then, aobut four ehn later,

“rest oars.”

The two tarn ships, the Dorna and the otehr, faced one another, motionless, save

for their respons to the swells of Thassa.

We were separated by some four hundred yards.

Since the principal weapons of the ram-ship are the ram and shearing blades, she

is most dangerous taken head on. Accordingly, in such a combat situation,

involving only two ships at sea, both ships commonly described the broad

starboard circles, prowling about one another like wary sleen, exchanging

missiles, watchful fro the opportunity to engage with ram and blades. I had

little doub that the Dorna, a somewhat lighter ship, with better lines and

shorter keel, would be more responsive to her helm than the other ship and that,

sooner or later, as the circles grew smaller, she would be able to wheel and

take her foe in the stern quarter or amidships.

Doubtless this was reasonably clear, also, to the commander of the other vessel.

He had surely refused to engage. Now it seemed he had no choice.

He did what I expected.

His oars took up maximum beat and his heavy ship, the crest of the ram dividing

the water before the concave bow, the tarn’s beak just below the water line,

plunged toward us.

I laughed. I had caught the other ship. I had proven the Dorna, and her

oar-master.

The other ship did not truly wish to fight.

“Helmsmen,” said I, “take your course four points to starboard.”

“Yes, Captain,” said they.

“Oar-master,” said I, “we have an appointment with the treasure fleet of Cos and

Tyros.”

He grinned up. “Yes, Captain!” said he. Then he called to his keleustes.

“Maximum beat!”

The ram of the other ship did not find us. As it plunged through Thassa we had

slipped, as swiftly as a sleen, from its path, knifing by a hundred yards past

his port bow, and soon leaving him astern. He did not even fire missiles.

I laughed.

I saw him turn slowly toward Cos.

I had removed him from the battle, if battle there was to be.