“You must take me for a fool,” she said. “I’d be at your mercy.”
I had to keep circling the ship and shouting a few words at a time. It was no way in which to carry on a conversation.
“Very well,” I said. “The word I have for you is very important, and I have given my word that I shall not harm you in any way. However, do as you see fit. I’ll stand by a few minutes.”
I could see them talking excitedly on the deck for a few minutes, and then I saw a boat being lowered with Skabra in it; so I came down a short distance from the ship and waited. Presently they came alongside. The old girl greeted me pleasantly. She didn’t seem to harbor any ill will because I had killed her mate, nor was I surprised at that. You see I’d not only rid her of a most obnoxious husband; but I’d put her on the throne, where she’d rule until the horrid little amphibian monstrosity that was her son grew to maturity.
“The first thing I’d like to know,” she said, “is how you escaped from Mypos.”
I shook my head. “I might be a prisoner there again some time; so I’ll keep that secret to myself.”
“Perhaps you’re wise,” she said; “but if you do come again, you’ll be treated well, as long as I’m vadjong. Now what is the important news you have for me?”
“Japal knows that your fleet is coming, and the city is fully prepared. I advise you to turn back.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“For two reasons: You were kind to my mate, and the sons of Jantor are my friends. I do not wish to see Mypos and Japal at war.”
She nodded. “I understand,” she said, “but nevertheless I shall keep on and attack Japal. We need more slaves. Many of our galleys are undermanned. The creatures die like flies at the oars.”
We talked a little longer; and then, finding that I could not persuade her to give up her plan, I taxied away and took off. As we approached Japal, we saw that the fleet was fully manned; but remaining close to the city. Kandar wanted to wait and learn the outcome of the battle. It was now late in the afternoon; so there was little likelihood that the engagement would take place before morning, as the biremes would move up slowly so as not to exhaust the men at the oars; they would need all their strength and energy for maneuvering during battle.
“They’ll probably come up to within about a kob,” Kandar said, “and lie to until dawn; thus the slaves will be well rested.” A kob is two and a half of our Earthly miles.
I didn’t like the idea very well, as I was anxious to return to Duare and get started on our search for Korva; but it meant so much to Kandar that I agreed to wait. He knew where there was a cove a short distance along the coast, and we flew there and anchored.
At dawn Kandar awakened me. “The Myposan fleet is moving in,” he said. “I can hear the creaking of their oars.”
I listened. Very faintly I could hear the complaining of the wooden oars against the wooden rowlocks. Even a greased oar is not entirely silent. We took off and headed for Japal, and almost immediately we saw the Myposan fleet coming in in three lines of fifteen or sixteen ships each. The fleet of Japal, still lay close below the city wall.
When the first line of the Myposan fleet was within a hundred yards of the enemy fleet the engagement started. A ball of fire rose from the deck of one of the Japal ships, described a graceful arc, and landed on the deck of a Myposan bireme. The burning brand had been shot from a catapult. Immediately the engagement became general. Fire balls and rocks were hurled from both sides. Many fell into the water, but many found their marks. Three ships were on fire, and I could see men hauling buckets of water from the lake to fight the flames.
Still the Myposan fleet moved in. “They are going to grapple and board,” said Doran.
Soon I saw why the Japal fleet hugged the shore, for now the batteries on the wall of the city opened up. These were heavier than the catapults of the ships; they threw larger fire balls and heavier rocks. The penteconters had moved up now between the big ships of the Myposans. They were much faster and more maneuverable. Their principal purpose, as far as I could see, was to harass the enemy by coming alongside and hurling short spears through the ports where the rowers sat chained to their benches. Disable enough oarsmen, and you have disabled the ship. A rock from a shore catapult dropped directly into the center of one of these penteconters, killing two or three men instantly and crashing through the bottom of the ship, which immediately commenced to fill and sink. The survivors, leaping overboard, were speared from the deck of the Japal ship they had been attacking. I could hear the dying men screaming and cursing.
“That was a good shot,” said Kandar.
By now, four of the attacking ships were burning, their crews taking to small boats, of which there were not half enough, while the slaves burned in their chains. Their screams were horrifying.
Other Myposan ships came alongside those of Japal, and there was hand-to-hand fighting on decks slippery with blood. It was a gruesome sight, but fascinating. I dropped lower to get a better view, as the smoke from the burning ships was cutting down the visibility.
I dropped too low. A rock from a catapult struck my propeller, smashing it. Now, I was, indeed, in a bad fix.
XXII
My first thought, when I saw that my ship had been hit, was of Duare. Here I was, over a battle between two peoples who were my enemies. What chance had I of ever returning to Timal? What was to become of Duare? I cursed myself for my crass stupidity as I glided to a landing. I just had altitude enough to permit me to land about a mile along the shore from Japal. I hoped that in the heat and excitement of battle no one on the walls of the city had seen the accident or noticed where I had gone.
I had come down close beside a forest, and I immediately got Kandar and Doran to help me push the anotar into concealment among the trees. As I looked back toward the city, I saw that smoke from burning ships hid much of it from my view; and I hoped that it had also hidden my landing from the city.
Kandar and Doran were most sympathetic. They said that the fault was all theirs. That if I had not been trying to help them, the accident would never have happened.
I told them that there was no use crying over spilled milk, and that what we had to do now was find some tools and some wood to make a new propeller. I removed what was left of the old one—one blade and the stub of the other.
As I was explaining to Kandar the tools I should need and the kind of wood, he became very much interested; and asked me many questions about the construction of a propeller, how to determine the correct pitch, and so forth. You would have thought that he was going to make one himself.
Getting the right wood was a simple matter. The same kind of trees from the wood of which I had made this propeller grew in the forest where we were, but getting tools was an entirely different matter.
“There are plenty in Japal,” said Kandar. “We must find some way to get them. Doran and I have hundreds of friends in the city, if we could only reach them.”
They racked their brains for some plan, but the whole thing looked utterly hopeless. Finally Doran hit upon something which at least contained the kernel of success—but a very small kernel.
“I know a man who makes knives,” he said. “I know him very well, for he has done a lot of work for me. I also know that he is honest and loyal. He lives close to the wall, not far from the inland gate. If we could reach his house, we could get knives.”
“But how can we reach his house?” demanded Kandar.
“By climbing the wall,” said Doran.
Kandar laughed. “At its lowest point the wall is one ted high,” he said. “I can’t jump that high.” A ted is 13.2 Earth feet.