Ragnar Voskjard tried to rise, but my foot, thrust between his shoulder blades, pressed him rudely back to the deck. "Free me," he begged. "Be silent," I said. I then stood with my left foot on his back, holding him in place. I had thought that I had heard a noise. I then dragged him, half strangling him, up the sloping deck to the starboard rail, where, with a swift knot, I tied him to one of the uprights supporting the rail. He turned on his side, to regard me. "If the ship sinks," he said, hoarsely, "I am helpless."
"Yes," I said.
I turned about.
Forty feet away, down the deck, amidships, sword in hand, half crouching, blade ready, slowly approaching, I saw Kliomenes.
"You must have hidden," I told him, "perhaps in the lower hold. Then, when the ship was rammed, when the hold began to fill with water, you were forced upward, as an urt."
He continued to approach. I observed the point of the blade. The eyes of a man can lie. The point of the blade cannot.
"Where are Policrates and Callisthenes?" I asked.
"I do not know," he said.
"Free me. Free me!" cried Ragnar Voskjard.
"It is every man for himself," said Kliomenes. He then rushed fiercely upon me. I defended myself in four exchanges. Then he stepped back.
"Do not permit your arm to grow weary," I told him. "Perhaps you would give me your tunic," I said. "I do not wish to become chilled. The air on the river is cooler now."
With a cry of rage he again rushed upon me and, again, I merely defended myself.
Sometimes we were ankle-deep in the water on the deck and, sometimes, near the port rail, we fought in water to our knees. Twice he slipped, but I did not strike him.
Then he stood, knee deep in the water, soaked, gasping. "Remove your tunic," I told him.
With two hands holding the sword he stumbled toward me, exhausted, striking downward. I slipped to the side and my blade's point was then entered into his right side. He shuddered, bent over, his head over the water. "Discard your blade," I told him. He released the weapon. I stepped back, my blade ready. "Go to the starboard rail," I told him.
He waded to the starboard rail, and I followed him. A single stroke could have severed his spine.
"Kneel down," I told him, "facing me."
He did so.
"Remove your tunic," I told him.
He did so.
"You are my prisoner," I said.
"Don't strike me," he suddenly said.
"Perhaps, perhaps not," I said. "Turn about," I ordered him.
Frightened, he did so.
"Will I strike you?" I asked him.
"I do not know," he said.
"On your belly," I told him, "and place your hands, crossed, behind you."
He did this. "Will I strike you now?" I asked him.
"I do not know. I do not know!" he said.
I thrust the sword into the deck. "I have placed the sword in the deck," I told Kliomenes. "If you wish to attempt to escape, this would be an excellent time to do so." Kliomenes tensed. "You must consider such things as whether or not, should you do this, you could rise to your feet before I could, say break your neck or back, or take the sword and cut your head away. I leave such speculations, and decisions, to you."
Kliomenes moaned, and lay still. I picked up the tunic from the deck and, unhurriedly, tore some strips from it. I looked over the port rail. It was considerably lower now, given the listing of the ship, than the starboard rail. "I see that the fellows from Turmus have drawn away from _Spined Tharlarion_," I informed them. I threw the strips, torn from the bottom of the tunic onto Kliomenes. "Those are what I am going to bind you with," I told him. "They will be quite sufficient to hold you. Once you are bound with them you will have little opportunity for escape. I am now going to put on your tunic." I slipped the tunic over my head. Kliomenes lay quietly, trembling. He did not move. I laughed, and then knelt across his body.
"Listen closely, Kliomenes," I told him. "You will be able to hear, from the wharves at Victoria, the ringing of a hammer, pounding on iron, on an anvil. Do you hear it?"
"Yes," he said. "They are curving collars of iron, with chains attached, about the throats of your fellow pirates." He was silent. "Such collars are heavy and uncomfortable," I said. "I know. I have worn such collars. There is this to be said for them, however. They hold a man, perfectly." I then, with the strips of cloth torn from the tunic, bound Kliomenes' hands behind his back, tightly. He winced. "Are you bound well enough?" I asked. "Yes," he said. "Do you think such bonds will hold you?" I asked. "Yes!" he said. "Yes, what?" I asked. "Yes," he whispered, "-my captor."
I laughed, and stood up. "_Spined Tharlarion_ has gone down," I said. At that moment the deck of the flagship of Policrates gave a lurch in the water. I almost lost my footing. Kliomenes slid downward, toward the port rail. I seized him by the hair and pulled him again toward the starboard rail.
"We are sinking!" cried Ragnar Voskjard. He tried to free himself, but succeeded in doing little more than squirm choking on the deck, a stripped, tethered prisoner. I then freed his leash from the upright but then, to his dismay, passed it again about the upright and, holding Kliomenes' head close to the upright, fastened him to the other end of the leash. Both men, then, were tied by the neck, and closely together, about the stanchion.
"We are sinking!" said the Voskjard. "I believe you are right," I said. "And we are helpless!" cried the Voskjard. "I know," I said. "I have seen to it."
"Mercy, mercy!" cried the Voskjard. "Mercy!" cried Kliomenes, suddenly terrified, pulling his legs up, as water lapped about them. I stood by the rail. "Do you both beg for mercy?" I asked. "Yes, my captor!" cried Ragnar Voskjard. "Yes, my captor!" cried Kliomenes.
"Greetings," I called down, cheerily, to Callimachus and Tasdron, in a longboat, with other men, which had drawn alongside. The approach of the longboat had been visible to me, of course, for some time, from my standing position by the rail. It had not been visible, of course, to either Ragnar Voskjard or Kliomenes.
"Did I hear someone beg for mercy?" grinned Callimachus, looking upward.
"It is not impossible," I admitted.
"What have you up there?" he asked.
"A pair of neck-harnessed urts," I told him. "Do you think you might find collars for them?"
"Ashore," said Callimachus. "We will put them with the rest of the catch."
With the sword blade I slashed the strap that bound the two men about the stanchion. Then I pulled them to their feet and knotted together the two loose ends of the strap, thus again effectively putting them on a common leash. I then thrust them overboard, headfirst, into the arms of oarsmen who took them and, not gently, threw them to the bottom of the longboat.
I looked down into the longboat. "I see that you have found a tunic somewhere," I said.
"Policrates was kind enough to give me his," said Callimachus, gesturing to the floor of the longboat, near the bow. I grinned. There, lying together, stripped, bloody and trussed, were Policrates and Callisthenes.
"Will they live?" I asked Callimachus.
"I did not make their wounds lethal," said Callimachus. "Thus they may be saved for the quarries or the galleys."
I did not envy Policrates or Callisthenes, nor Kliomenes, nor Ragnar Voskjard. In the quarries and on the galleys the chains are heavy and the whips are swift.
"Come aboard," said Callimachus. He extended his hand to me. I slipped over the rail of the flagship of Policrates, and entered the longboat.
"The day is ours," I said.
"It is ours," said Callimachus. We embraced. I took my position on a thwart amidships, between two oarsmen, and he took his place on a thwart near the stern, before the helmsman. "Put in to shore," said Callimachus to the helmsman. "Yes, Captain," said he.