Then there were six men running at Blade, and he had to give way. But there were also five of his own side climbing over the railing behind him. A Sea Master darted low, rolling in against the legs of two of the oncoming men. They stumbled over him and went down. The Sea Master's knives flashed and the two soldiers never got up again.
This left four soldiers against Blade and four of his fighters. Blade and his men were all over them in a moment, slashing, hacking, thrusting, kicking with feet and clubbing with fists. Another moment of sword-strokes, screams, and blood, then all four soldiers sprawled on the deck.
But in dying they had bought time for their comrades. More soldiers were swarming up from below and out from the ship's sterncastle, forming two lines across the deck. The one toward the bow began to move against the attackers coming up there. The one from the sterncastle stood firm against Blade.
At least it tried to. But Blade was in a towering fury, and they might as well have tried to stand against a hurricane. He smashed into their left flank, broadsword whirling in the air and short-sword thrusting low. Two flashes of light, two dull chunks of steel biting into flesh, and a soldier went down, head lolling and arm cut half through.
Blade took a step backward, parried a downcut with the short-sword, slashed hard crosswise with the broadsword. It took a man in the chest, not cutting deep, but stopping him in his tracks. The broadsword rose and came down on the man's skull, splitting it from the crown of his head to the bridge of his nose. Blade jerked the broadsword free, stepped into the gap left by the falling man, and lashed out to either side. A man clutched at a thigh opened by the short-sword. Another clutched at an arm reduced to a spouting stump by the broadsword.
Now Blade was beyond the line, approaching the door to the sterncastle. Behind him the other attackers were hacking their own paths through the soldiers, rolling up the line in both directions. Two of the attackers were down, the other three were bleeding but still fighting on.
The soldiers began to break, crowding toward the railings. Some got up their courage to jump, in time to escape the swords of the Talgarans and Sea Masters coming at them.
But they did not escape the yulons. The great reptiles were splashing busily about on either side of the ship, their long necks swinging from side to side in search of the human prey so marvelously abundant today. When they spotted a fleeing swimmer, the neck would arch, the head dip down, and the jaws close. A clack of yellow teeth, a scream, a flurry of water and blood, and another servant of Duke Tymgur would be gone.
They were killing the Duke's servants at a great rate, Blade realized. The second line of soldiers toward the front was breaking up as the yulons began to reach over the side and snatch men from either end. When they saw that, the men in the center dropped on their knees, threw down their weapons, and begged for mercy. They did not get it. The blood of both Talgarans and Sea Masters was too hot today for taking any prisoners. And Blade's orders had been strict. «No one is to leave the yacht alive and free. If you can't take them prisoner-«
A fresh rush of enemies from the sterncastle forced Blade to turn his attention there. He backed himself against the railing and went to work with both swords, while the three with him attacked the newcomers from behind. Blade searched the brown faces coming at him, looking for the thin, bearded face of Duke Tymgur himself. The Duke might send his men out to die for a long time, but sooner or later he would have to come out himself. Otherwise he would die like a cornered rat below the decks of his yacht.
Unless he wasn't aboard at all? Blade went cold for a moment at that thought, then did his best to push it out of his mind. If the Duke wasn't aboard, then the whole attack would do nothing except- He broke off that train of thought with an effort and concentrated on fighting the men coming at him.
Eventually they were beaten off, killed, or driven over the side. Another Sea Master went down also, to lie on the bloody decks of the yacht. Swinging his eyes fore and aft, Blade saw that the attackers now had full control of the deck. Not a living enemy remained there. Screams and splashes from over the side told Blade that the yulons were still efficiently at work polishing off the swimmers.
Damn! If Tymgur was aboard, they were going to have to dig him out like a cornered rat. A rat with perhaps very sharp teeth.
Alanyra made her way aft to join Blade. She was ignoring a shallow cut that ran across her ribs just below her breasts.
«What now, Blade?»
Blade's voice was grim. «We go below and search this ship from stem to stern, until we find Duke Tymgur or-«He decided not to go on. Instead he led the way to the door of the sterncastle, A few smart blows with a battle-ax drove it off its hinges, and Blade stepped into the musty gloom of the after cabins.
A passageway stretched before him, doors opening off it on either side and a light at the far end. Without turning his head, Blade snapped at Alanyra, «Put a man at each door and follow me.» Feet scurried about behind him as he headed down the passageway toward the light at the end. That should be the great cabin, Tymgur's private quarters, and if the Duke was anywhere aboard-
Blade came to the end of the passageway and stared into the cabin. A long-legged figure in black sat hunched on a couch, head sunk on its chest and one long-fingered hand resting limply on the hilt of a rapier. Blade raised his own sword and cautiously approached. That certainly looked like Duke Tymgur-but was he alive? Had the terrible Duke chosen the coward's way out, taken poison or opened a-
Blade was five feet away when Tymgur sprang to his feet and thrust with the rapier, all in a single motion.
If Blade had been a foot closer the rapier would have driven clear through his heart and ended everything for him in a split second. But Tymgur was over-eager, and Blade's reflexes were as fast as they had ever been. He leaped back, twisting as he did so. He did not leap back far enough to keep the rapier from tearing through his side, but he lived. His teeth clamped together hard at the pain, but he stayed on his feet. And his broadsword whirled up, then down, and smashed into Tymgur's rapier, driving it down so hard that the point jammed in a crack in the deck.
The Duke in turn sprang back, leaving the rapier quivering in the deck and drawing a long knife. Then he came at Blade again, lunging out of a half crouch, hoping to carry through to his goal by sheer speed.
Again his terrifying speed almost succeeded. The edge of the knife ripped flesh along the outside of Blade's left thigh as he twisted away. But his broadsword came down again, and Duke Tymgur's sword-hand jumped from its wrist. Hand and sword fell to the deck with a thud and a clatter. Tymgur straightened up, his eyes widening in surprise. Those dark eyes looked squarely into Blade without fear, without pain, with nothing except hatred and perhaps a small bit of respect. Their expression hadn't changed when Blade's sword came down a third time, smashing through Tymgur's shoulder and ribs down into his heart. Blood spurted from his mouth, and he fell to the deck and lay still.
Blade felt like joining him. His knees were turning to water and there was a roaring in his head, as the pain of his wounds began to tear through him. He took a slow step forward, then began to turn around.
As he did, there was a scuffling sound behind him, the sound of steel in flesh, then a high-pitched, choked gurgle. Blade spun the rest of the way around and stared down.