The deck was crowded with a swarm of Krishnans in motley garb, some wearing bits of armor and all carrying swords, pikes, or axes.
"Fergus!" came Alicia's high voice. "Where are you?"
"Here!" replied Reith, looking about. He located her in the crowd, with a pair of burly Krishnans holding her arms. Another pair held the arms of Aristide Marot; blood ran down one of Marot's arms and dripped on the deck.
"What happened to us?" Reith called.
Marot replied: "I think I made a slight wound on one of our attackers, but another gave me a cut on the arm. Then one ran up behind you and struck you with the pommel of his sword."
Beyond Alicia and Marot, Captain Gendu and his crew stood in a group with the invaders' swords at their throats. Several bled blue-green Krishnan blood from untended wounds. Among the legs of the attackers, Reith glimpsed the bodies of two of Gendu's crewmen. A hoarse voice bellowed:
"Move not! Yield or die! Those who resist no longer shall not be hurt!"
The speaker appeared at the rail of the other ship. Through the thinning mist, Reith perceived the outline of a short, stout female Krishnan, in helmet, cuirass, and kilt.
The rising sun spread a rosy carpet across the still waters, so that Reith could discern the features of individuals.
"Put them on our ship!" shouted the female leader. "We'll scrutinize them when the light waxes stronger. Do I see some Ertsuma? With hair of red, yellow, and black, as described in the contract? 'Tis indeed they, praise Maibud! The old witch of Jeshang will pay us more for these creatures than we'd get in a score of ordinary ransoms. Lucky for you scum that ye took them alive as I commanded! Get them aboard! Yare, yare!"
Reith and his companions were hustled to and over the rails of the ships, which ground together with the slight motion of the waves. Reith and Alicia managed to land on their feet on the deck of the other ship, but Marot fell heavily and got up groaning. Gendu and his surviving crewmen were likewise forced over the rails. As the captives reached the deck of the other ship, other pirates seized them and tied their wrists together with stops of light line. Meanwhile other pirates—for such Reith assumed they were—scattered over the Kubitar for loot. Reith called:
"Alicia! Are you okay?"
"I don't know that 'okay' is quite the word," she answered, "but I'm not wounded."
"You, Aristide?"
"Except for this cut."
"Let me fix that!" said Alicia. In starting to dress as Reith commanded, she had only gotten as far as a pair of panties. Now, with her wrists bound, she slipped these off and tore them into a couple of long strips; the disintegrating fabric parted easily. Soon she had a bandage around Marot's upper right arm. The pirates neither helped nor hindered her first aid.
"Just a scratch, luckily," said Marot. "It will heal up in a few days. Fergus! What is all this?"
"I'm trying to find out," said Reith. "Captain Gendu! Who are these people?"
Wearily, Gendu explained: "This ship is Tondi's Haghrib. That she-devil's the worst pirate captain of the lot."
For the next hour the captives—three Terrans, Captain Gendu, his mate Chindor, his cook, and his nine surviving seamen—huddled unhappily in the bow, while the pirates went through the Kubitar and handed their pickings across the rails to the deck of the pirate craft. Tondi supervised the stowage of loot. As each item came aboard, a stout pirate with a wooden peg leg and eyeglasses incongruously perched on his nose entered the accession on a sheet of paper. Then the object was carried down a ladder into the hold.
Standing at the edge of the hatch opening, Tondi shouted down to place the wine jars together, pile the bolts of cloth neatly in one spot, and so on. Presently a pirate appeared at the rail with Marot's sack of fossils, saying:
"Captain, be this the bag of stones the Bákhite said his mistress wanted?"
"Is't the only bag of stones aboard? Well then, this must needs be it. Old Lazdai must be getting soft in the brain, to collect stones; but 'tis all one to us so that she pays us what she promised. Fetch it aboard!"
At last a pirate reported: "Captain, we find nought else save bulk goods of low value: slabs of marble, ingots of lead, farm produce, and the like. No jewels and no coin but a few hundred karda. This is no treasure ship." Reith inferred that the "few hundred karda" were mostly his.
"Then we must needs scour this route until we find more profitable prey," Tondi replied.
"But Captain!" said a pirate who seemed to be a ship's officer of some sort. "Won't the price of these Terrans from the priestess suffice for the voyage?"
"And how if the old puzzel renies her debt to us, once she hath the off-worlders in her grasp? I trust her not. So we'll cruise some more and then seek the rendezvous to turn these creatures over. Loose the other ship and scuttle her!"
When the first curl of dark smoke arose from the Kubitar's hold, the pirates pushed the ships apart with boathooks. Oars quickly emerged from their holes to drive the Haghrib away from her victim. As the distance increased, the fire on the Kubitar blazed more and more brightly through the thinning fog. The sails went up like torches, for an instant rivaling the wan, fog-shrouded sun in brilliance.
Reith heard Captain Gendu mutter: "I told the owners we needed armed guards. But nay, they said; the pirate menace is abated, and good guards cost good silver."
The sun brightened and the breeze strengthened. The last wisps of fog drifted past like homing ghosts. The temperature began to rise.
"Now," barked Tondi, "we'll look over our guests."
With blows, threats, and curses, the pirates dragged the captives to their feet and pushed them into line against the gunwale. Overhead, the beige-colored sails caught the freshening breeze and filled; below, the oars were again withdrawn, releasing the rowers to join their fellow pirates on deck.
Tondi went to her cabin but soon reappeared. She had shed her helm and cuirass and now wore nothing but a short kilt, which had once been white. She was barrel-shaped, flat-breasted, and ugly both by Terran and by Krishnan standards. She looked as if she had not had a bath in years. Her long, greasy hair bore the bluish tint of the Krishnan races dwelling east of the Triple Seas.
She started down the line. The first captive, a sailor, turned gray and his antennae quivered with fear as she examined him. She said: "He'd be useless."
She jerked a thumb. As two pirates seized the sailor and hoisted him up on the rail, he screamed: 'Tondi! Ye promised us no harm—" A splash heralded his end.
Tondi gave a snort of laughter and went to the next sailor, who stammered: "T-tondi, I'll gladly join your crew!"
"We already have a full complement." Again she jerked a thumb, and, yelling protests, the sailor was tossed over the side like the other.
The next captive was Chindor, the mate. He said: "Ye durst not drown me, Tondi! My brother's High Admiral of Ulvanagh. He'd hunt you down as far as the Southern Pole—"
"Ye threaten me?" screamed Tondi. "Over the side with him!"
"Cursed fool!" mumbled Gendu. "If he'd bragged of's seamanship, he'd like have bought's life."
"No Pirates of Penzance here," murmured Reith to his companions.
The massacre continued until only Captain Gendu and the three Terrans remained. Gendu growled: "How did ye catch us so featly. Captain Tondi?"
"We followed you through the night by your stern lantern."
"Ye showed no lights!"
Tondi gave a scornful snort. "Think ye we're noodles, to warn of our coming?"