"They have swords," another whispered. "They are masters."
Eodan shook his red blade high and yelled in rage: "Is there even one
man among you?"
A moment longer, then a booming from the foul night before him: "Get
these god-rotted irons off me, boy, and you'll have at least two more
hands!"
X
The man who sprang up onto the catwalk and joined Eodan was huge--not
as tall as the Cimbrian, but with a breadth of shoulder that made him
look almost square. His arms, hanging down toward his knees, were
cabled with muscle. His hair and beard were matted filth, but they
still had the color of fire. Small blue eyes crackled under bony brows;
the dented nose dilated, sucking air into a shaggy bow-legged frame
clad only in its chains.
He trumpeted at the darkness: "Hear me! You had courage enough to
kill one stunned man, tossed down to you. Now you've no hope for your
flea-bitten lives but to fight. Whether you touched the overseer or
not, d'you think the Romans would spare a man of us after this? They'll
grind you up for pig-mash! Follow us, beat in a few heads--after all
the beatings you've taken, it's your turn--and we'll have the ship!"
Whirling on Eodan, he said with a wolfish glee, "Come, let's at
'em--the rest will trail us!"
"There's a spear somewhere," said the Cimbrian.
"Ha! I have my chains!" The big man whirled the links still hanging on
his wrists.
Eodan thought of Hwicca, of his son and his father, and of Marius'
triumphal parade. He swung up the ladder.
The crew were gathered nearby on guard. One of them shouted as Eodan's
head emerged and ran forward, holding a pike. Eodan braced himself.
As the metal thrust at him, he caught its shaft and forced it up. He
jerked back while he took the last few rungs. The sailor fell to one
knee. Eodan came out on deck, yanked the pike away and tossed it under
the legs of the two nearest men approaching him. They went down.
"Haw, well cast!" bawled Redbeard.
A man was going up the ladder to the poop deck. Over the heads of
two or three sailors, Eodan saw that he had a bow. "See up there!"
he cried, as he danced back from the Gaul's sword-thrust. Redbeard
grunted, whirled his chain and let fly. The Thracian deckhand screamed
as the staple end smashed across his face, and dropped his ax. The
redbeard picked it up, took aim and threw it. There was a gleam in the
air and a meaty whack. The bowman fell off the ladder, wailing, the ax
standing in his shoulder.
"Back to back," snapped Eodan. The crew were circling him, looking
for a chance to rush in. He counted four--the Gaul, the Greek, the
Pamphylian, and a stocky fellow with a leather apron, belike a
carpenter. The Thracian, who rolled about moaning, and the archer, who
lay bleeding to death, were out of the fight.
And here, from around the cabin, leaving their hot-water kettle, came
Demetrios and Flavius!
Redbeard wrapped a chain about his right hand--the links on his left
he kept dangling--and twirled it. "Hoy, down there in the pit!" he
shouted. "Get off your moldy butts and come crack some bones!"
The Pamphylian and the Greek moved in side by side, facing Eodan.
The first of them leaped about, thrusting lightly with his sword,
not trying to do more than hold the Cimbrian's eyes. Then the Greek
worked in from the left. Eodan's blade clanged against his. At once the
Pamphylian darted close. Eodan could just whip his sword around in time
to wound him and drive him back. It gave the Greek an opening. Eodan
saw that assault from the edge of an eye; he got his cloak-shielded arm
in the way. The Greek struck for his hip, but the thrust only furrowed
Eodan's flesh. Then Redbeard swatted his chain-clad hand around, and
the Greek reeled back. Eodan thrust savagely at the Pamphylian, who
retreated. Redbeard batted the carpenter's pike aside with his right
hand. The chain on his left wrist snapped forth and coiled around the
Pamphylian's neck. Redbeard pulled him close, took him by an arm and
kicked him down the hatch.
"You puking brats!" he roared into the pit, as the sailor fell. "Do I
have to send 'em to you?"
Demetrios and Flavius were among their men now--only the Gaul, the
Greek, and the carpenter! Eodan screamed and shook his sword at them.
"_Hau-hau-hau-hau-hoo!_"
"Form ranks!" barked Flavius.
"Best we get back under the poop," panted Redbeard.
Eodan drifted aft across the deck, growling. Five men left, no more.
But they marched in a line, their timidity gone. Two could not hope to
stop them for long--
The slaves came out.
Not all had so much courage, perhaps ten. But those fell upon the
crew with broken oars, chains, and bare hands. Eodan saw Flavius turn
coolly, lift his sword, and sheathe it in a throat; pull it free and
gouge the next man open. The sailors fell into a ring, the yelping
slaves recoiled.
"_Hau-hau-hee-yi!_" shrieked Eodan, and charged.
It was Flavius' head he wanted, but the Greek's he got. The sailor, his
face puffy from the chain-blow it had taken, stabbed. Eodan went to one
knee and let the point tear his wadded cloak. He thrust upward. Blood
ran from the Greek's thigh, but the man stood firm. Eodan jumped to
his feet, got two hands on the Greek's sword wrist and put his weight
behind them. He heard the arm leave the socket, and the Greek went
down. Eodan saw that the fight had departed this place; the slaves were
clubbing loose. He followed. A rower emerged from below, saw the Greek
and the Thracian lying helpless and battered them to death.
Eodan glimpsed Redbeard across the ship, locked bare-handed with the
carpenter. Those were two strong men. The carpenter broke free and ran,
pursued by Redbeard. Under the forecastle stood a rack of tools. As the
carpenter picked up a hammer, Redbeard smote him with a chain, and the
hammer dropped. Redbeard caught it in midair, roared and struck the
carpenter.
But now the battle had ended. The Gaul had fallen, pounded to ruin.
Only Flavius and the captain still lived. They fought their way aft,
to the poop; half a dozen wounded slaves and three dead lay behind
them. When they stood on the upper deck and defended the way with their
swords, the mutineers fell back.
For a while there was silence. The ship rolled easily, waves clapped
the strakes, wind hummed in the rigging. The hurt men moaned, the dead
men and the wreckage rolled about. But those were not loud noises,
under so high a heaven.
Redbeard went to the foot of the poop and shook his hammer. "Will you
come down, or must I fetch you?" he cried.
"Come if you will," said Flavius. "It would be a service to rid the
earth of Latin as atrocious as yours."
Redbeard hung back, glowering. One by one, the rowers drifted up to
join him. Flavius arched his brows at them and grinned. His hair was
flung disarrayed by the breeze, his tunic was ripped and a bruise
purpled one calf, but he stood as though in Rome's Forum. Beside him,
Demetrios mouthed threats and brandished his blade.
Eodan went to the hatch. He heard the remaining slaves clamor down
there, and a sickness choked him. By the Bull, he thought, if those
creatures have so much as spoken to Hwicca or Phryne, the fish will get
them--cooked!
"Hoy!" he shouted. "Come up, we have won!"
Something stirred on the ladder. And then the sun caught Hwicca's
bright blowing hair. She trod forth, dropping the trident in an
unaware gesture. One leg showed through a rent in her gown. Her broad
snub-nosed face was still bewildered; the blue eyes were hazed, as
though she had not fully awakened.
"Hwicca," croaked Eodan. "Are you hurt?"
"No...."
He flung his sword to the deck and drew her to him. "We have the ship,"
he said. "We are free."
A moment only, her fingers tightened on his arms. Then she pulled away
and looked over the blood-smeared deck. "Flavius?" she whispered.
"Up there." Eodan pointed with a stabbing motion. "We'll soon snatch
him down!"
Hwicca stepped aside. She shivered. "It does not seem real," she said
in a child's high, thin voice.
Phryne's boy-figure emerged. She was holding a dripping dagger. She
looked at it, shook her head, flung it from her and bent shut eyes down
upon clenched fists.
Eodan laid a hand on her shoulder. He had been wild at thinking of harm
to Hwicca; now a strange tenderness rose in him, and he asked very
gently, "What happened, Phryne?"
She raised a blind violet stare. "I killed a man," she said.
"Oh. No more than that?" Thankfulness sang within Eodan.
"It was not so little." She rubbed a wrist across her forehead. "I
think I will have evil dreams for a long time."
"But men are killed daily!"
"He was a slave," said Phryne without tone. "Hwicca and I went among
them. She pulled out the staples, and I guarded her. This one man
shouted and seized her dress. He would have had her down under the
bench. I struck him. I struck him twice in the neck. He slumped back,
but it took him a while to die. A sunbeam came in. I saw that he did
not understand. He was only a man--a young man--what did he know of us?
Of our purpose down there? Of anything but bench and chains and whip
and one niggard piece of sky? And now he is among the shades, and he
will never know!"
She turned away, went to the rail and, stared out at the horizon.
Eodan thought for a moment. He would have given blood of his own to
comfort her, though this seemed only some female craziness. At last:
"Well, do you think it would have been better for him to dishonor the
woman that wanted to free him?"
Phryne paused before answering. "No. That is true. But give me a while
to myself."
Eodan picked up his sword and went to the poop ladder. The slaves
milled about, grumbling. Their bodies were mushroom-colored, and
they blinked in the bright day; they had not been starved, for their
strength was worth money, but sores festered on them and their hair
and beards were crusted. Only the big red man seemed altogether human.
Belike he had not been long at the oars.
He turned about, bobbed his head awkwardly and rumbled: "I lay my life
at your feet. You gave me back myself."
Eodan grinned. "I had small freedom to choose! It was get help or be
cut down."
"Nonetheless, there is fate in you," said Redbeard. He lifted his
hammer between both hands. "I take you for disa--for chieftain. I am
your hound and horse, bow and quiver, son and grandson, until the sky
is broken."