The commandant licked his lips and clamped a white-knuckled hand on the gold-chased hilt of his sword.
Blade ordered the boarding party to lie down on the deck. Prince Durouman's guards grumbled, but a dark look from the prince sent them down on their bellies with the rest. The prince himself continued to stand beside Blade.
Blade no longer kept track of the firing of Kukon's guns or the answering shots from the enemy. His attention was concentrated on judging the angle between the two ships. As soon as the enemy's broadside could no longer bear on Kukon, he would close straight in as fast as the rowers could move the ship.
The moment arrived. At a sharp order from Blade Kukon began a turn so fast and so tight that she heeled far over to one side. Blade and the commandant had to hold onto the railing to keep from losing their footing. Only Prince Durouman stood by himself, feet braced wide apart, helmet shoved back on his head, hair and beard blowing. He was a magnificent sight, and Blade only hoped he wouldn't also be a magnificent target.
As Kukon approached the sailing ship, Blade saw that the enemy's decks were surprisingly empty. A little cluster of men stood with muskets and bows on the foc'sle. Another cluster stood on the stern castle. The deck amidships was empty except for a few half-naked sailors standing by with axes to cut loose fallen masts and rigging.
«She must have just enough men aboard to man her guns,» said the commandant.
«That's their problem,» said Blade cheerfully. «We'll swing around her bow and run along her port side, grapple, and board. If she's that short-handed, this should be easier than I expected.»
The commandant seemed to quiver all over at Blade's words, and his eyes widened. Realization was striking him that his first moment of hand-to-hand combat was fast approaching.
Kukon swept onward. Her guns were firing steadily, hammering away at the enemy's foc'sle. Blade saw a swirl in the little cluster of figures there as a shot ploughed through it. Several did not rise. Splintered wood showed white in a dozen places around the enemy's bow.
Then Kukon was rounding the enemy and swinging back to run alongside. Without waiting for orders, the men of the boarding party sprang to their feet and ran to the port gangway. Some of them swung ropes and grappling hooks in their hands.
The port rowers heaved their oars back in through the ports and sprang up from the benches. Kukon ran alongside the enemy with a great squealing and grinding and bumping of wood. Ropes hissed through the air and bright steel hooks dropped over the enemy's bulwarks. Blade opened his mouth and filled his lungs to roar out, «Boarders away!»
Then there was a flurry of movement among the cluster of figures on the enemy's foc'sle. A knotted rope sailed over the bulwarks and came snaking down to land on Kukon's deck between Blade and the commandant.
At the same time there was a tremendous clatter as hatches and gratings flew open all along the enemy's deck amidships. The gunports on the ship's side dropped open with rattles and bangs. Blade saw helmeted heads thrusting forward from the gloom below decks, looking out past the muzzles of the guns. He recognized the helmets and armor of the Imperial Corps of Eunuchs.
Then the commandant whirled, his sword leaping from its scabbard. He slashed down at Blade so quickly and so hard that only Blade's miraculously fast reflexes kept his head on his shoulders. He ducked, went down, rolled, and sprang up again.
The commandant was just as fast. He gripped the knotted rope and shouted. Above, the men on the enemy's foc'sle heaved. The rope tightened, and the commandant flew straight up into the air as if he'd been shot out of a circus cannon.
Then the eunuchs at the gunports pushed forward, raising muskets. At the same time dozens more eunuchs with both crossbows and muskets sprouted from the enemy ship's bulwarks. All the muskets and bows seemed to go off at once with one tremendous, ringing crash. Bolts and balls whizzed past Blade, struck the deck, clanged off the gun barrels, drove into human flesh. Screams of agony and the smell of blood and powder surrounded him.
From forward one of the enemy's guns fired at pointblank range. Its ball smashed squarely into the muzzle of the heaviest gun on Kukon's bow. The gun flew backward off its carriage and right off the foc'sle, to smash down onto the deck below.
It also smashed down squarely on top of Luun. The man had time and breath to let out one blood-freezing scream of agony and terror as the tons of bronze crushed him into the deck. Then there was silence, soon broken by the sound of more muskets and crossbows going off.
Prince Durouman was still on his feet, although blood was streaming down his face and both helmet and breastplate were dented. He waved his sword, and his guards crowded around him, raising their muskets.
«Fire!» he roared. More than twenty muskets crashed out in a single volley, and as many helmeted heads vanished from along the enemy's bulwarks. Blade saw one eunuch throw up his arms and fall backward, a great hole gaping squarely in the middle of his forehead. He wouldn't have believed such shooting possible with matchlock muskets.
But for every eunuch shot down by the prince's guards, two more appeared. Their fire grew steadily. In another minute Blade knew that the only thing left for Kukon was to get clear, if she still could.
«All rowers man your benches!» he thundered, in a voice that carried over the swelling noise of the battle. «Port side rowers, push us off. Then everyone to ramming stroke!»
Oars clattered out through the ports and a gap of water began to open between Kukon and the Imperial ship. Some of the rowers on the starboard side continued to stand, firing muskets and bows, until they saw their comrades to port beginning their stroke. Then all the rowers went furiously to work. Kukon slid rapidly along the enemy's side and passed her stern.
«Why, Blade?» screamed Prince Durouman. «Why? We can take her and kill that traitor. We can!»
«We can't!» shouted Blade. «We haven't a chance. She's got two hundred of the Corps of Eunuchs on board besides her regular crew. Maybe more. We'd lose every man aboard Kukon trying to board against the eunuchs!»
«No!» the prince cried.
«Yes,» said Blade more quietly. «The commandant led us into a trap. There's nothing more we can do about it except get clear if we can.»
The prince stared at Blade, his eyes wild and red, his sword shaking in his hand. He snatched off his helmet and threw it down on the deck with a clang. Then he crumpled. He lurched and would have fallen to the deck if he hadn't been able to brace himself against the breech of a gun.
Blade had no more time to spare for Prince Durouman. He leaped off the foc'sle onto the main deck and ran aft. Reaching the stern, he ordered the gunners there to elevate their pieces and open fire on the enemy. They obeyed with a will. They hadn't been able to take any part in the battle until now, and most of them had comrades to avenge.
Kukon's stern guns kept up a steady fire until the two ships were out of range. Blade kept the rowers at the ramming stroke for another few miles, then let them slow down to the fast cruise stroke. It was not until the enemy ship was out of sight even from the masthead that he let the rowers leave their benches. Kukon's sails filled, and she swung away toward the north once more.
Then at last there was time to check the damage and casualties. Except for the dismounted bow gun, there was little serious damage. There were half a dozen shot holes, none of them below or even near the water line. That was all. Blade promptly set men to work with tackles and levers to remount the gun.