Duke Tymgur's yacht never went more than twenty miles offshore. It didn't need to. The land dropped off sharply into the sea along the coast of Nurn, with deep water only a mile or two offshore. Water more than deep enough to hide a yulon-or for that matter six yulons, or a hundred.
So Blade set up a patrol line off the coast. Six yulons, each with three Sea Masters and three Talgarans and everything they needed to remain on station for days or even weeks. Both Sea Masters and Talgarans were more than tough enough to stand it. The only problem had been persuading the Talgarans to mount the yulons. But the spectacle of Alanyra herself leading one of them around like a house pet had solved that problem.
Eighty miles offshore, Green Mistress sailed back and forth. Aboard her were extra food and weapons, Captain Foyn, Oknyr, and more warriors of both people. Hopefully she was far enough out that no one would connect her with what was about to happen.
As Blade had told Krodrus, there was no hope of keeping the alliance secret now. But so far there was peace among the two peoples. And the secret would certainly last until Duke Tymgur was no longer around. That sail was approaching fast. The Duke had two more hours to live, if he was lucky.
Blade reminded himself not to get his hopes up too high too soon, and used the goad again. The yulon lowered its head into the water once again. Blade let go of its neck and swam down fifty feet to where Alanyra waited, astride the neck of a second yulon. Fifty feet farther down were the remaining four and their fighting teams-six yulons, thirty-six picked fighting men and women. That would probably be enough, with surprise on their side. If there had been time to get more men in from Green Mistress-But there had been no time. Oknyr would not like being left out of this fight, but there was no helping that.
As if she had read his thoughts, Alanyra smiled and said, «Oknyr would like to be here.»
«I am sure of it. He loves a good fight too much. Perhaps too much for his own good. We don't want a long battle now. I don't care how much honor and glory there might be in one. We're after Duke Tymgur, not honor and glory.» Alanyra looked hurt at the implied rebuke to Oknyr. Blade smiled to take the sting out of his words, and went on. «Besides, Oknyr already has enough honor and glory to last him the next several lives. He should give us younger fighters a chance, not hog all the glory.»
«You have glory beyond all other men, Blade,» said Alanyra. «You are the Stranger sent by the Goddess.» Blade looked away. The expression of worship on Alanyra's face and in her voice made him uncomfortable. Then he looked up toward the surface. There was enough of a breeze to kick up small waves and make the crystal seas a little less transparent. They would not need to drop down too deeply, to escape being seen. They could even have used one of the Ship-Killers, if Oknyr had been willing. But the Orderer of Battles was not yet willing to let Talgarans use the Sea Masters' most potent weapon and risk its secrets getting out. The trust was growing, but as yet it was far from complete.
Once more there was no point in wishing for what they did not have. Thirty-six men and six yulons with surprise on their side should do the job. And even without surprise- As Blade had said to Krodrus the morning they sailed, «If Tymgur dies, we can afford to lose every man on this mission. If he lives, every man who dies will have died in vain.» Blade did not want to die in vain, and neither did any of the others.
He swam back over to Alanyra again and motioned downward. «Time to take our stations, Lady.»
«So soon?»
«We can take no chances of being seen too soon.»
«A yulon can overtake any ship, Blade.»
«In time, yes. But this close to land, Tymgur could run his yacht ashore before we could catch him. He would lose the ship and every man aboard, perhaps, but he would do that to save his own skin.»
«He would that.» She swam free of her yulon, arched her body gracefully, then signaled to the four teams below. Blade repeated the signal to the team on the surface. Minutes later, all six were two hundred feet down. Blade alone remained close to the surface. There was small risk of one man being noticed, and someone had to keep a lookout in case Tymgur's ship changed course at the last moment.
It did not. The big galley came driving on as straight as though it had been running on rails, the oars throwing up silver foam on either side. It came on until Blade could begin to make out individual figures on its deck. Not faces yet, but he did not need to. The Duke's personal banner was flying from the masthead. The Duke was on board.
Blade waited until the yacht's bow was looming above him like a wall. Then he plunged down, stroking furiously away from those churning oars, arrowing down into the depths. The sleek shapes of the yulons appeared. Blade flipped end-over-end and gave the signal. Faint and ghostly, cheers came up from below.
With those ghost cheers still in his ears, Blade turned and led the way back to the surface, to the battle.
Chapter NINETEEN
Blade's head broke the surface. Damn! He had miscalculated. He was a good fifty yards astern of the yacht. That would be too long a swim, unless-
A yulon rose among the yacht's port oars, with a terrible splintering of wood. Men stood frozen on the yacht's deck, staring openmouthed, waving their arms, and starting to draw their weapons. Blade saw one man who was too slow. As he raised a spear to throw it, a crossbow shot from the water drilled him through the chest. He toppled back. The yacht began to swim around in a drunken circle.
Then a second yulon rose among the starboard oars, leaping half out of the water. Its jaws slammed shut on another man on deck. He screamed and writhed and kicked until the yulon pulled its head back and the water closed over him with a gurgle.
A third yulon burst to the surface within a few feet of Blade. One of the Talgaran fighters threw out a rope's end. Blade caught it, and the Sea Master driving the yulon jabbed in his goad. The creature surged toward the yacht.
Arrows began to plunge into the water from the yacht's high stern. Blade kept his head down as the arrows hissed and splashed around him. The storm of arrows became thicker. Several arrows bounced off the yulon's head and one took a Sea Master in the arm.
Then the fourth yulon reared up out of the sea like a leaping dolphin, head driving toward the yacht's stern. The head smashed through the railing like a battering ram, scattering the archers. Several went down. Two ran frantically across the deck and leaped into the water just as Blade and his companions swam up.
A quick flick with Blade's knife, and one of the archers went under, bubbling out his life into the crystal seas. A Sea Master caught the other one, dragged him under, then twisted his neck until the spine gave with an audible crack and another corpse was floating away. Blade reached out, caught one of the trailing oars, and began hauling himself hand over hand up the side of the yacht.
As he approached the deck, two soldiers ran toward the railing, spears thrusting down. Blade braced himself with his feet against the ship's hull and lunged with one hand for the first spear that came at him. His hand closed around the shaft, his arm jerked, and the spear twisted out of the soldier's grasp. Blade swung the spear across, parrying the other thrust, then reversed the spear and thrust upward. The second soldier crumpled. Before anyone else could approach the railing, Blade had hauled himself over it and onto the ship's deck. Behind him Sea Masters and Talgarans were following him up the oars.
Blade drew his swords. Today he wielded a full broadsword, three feet long and as heavy as he could swing, with a razor-sharp edge. He smashed it down on the helmet of a man running at him with a knife, then chopped through the man's arm as he fell. Blood gushed out across the deck. Another man who ran at Blade slipped in the blood, reeled, and started to go down. Blade's sword hacked his head from his shoulders, and the man hit the deck in two pieces.