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Despite the impressiveness with which these statements were delivered, Barnevelt found he had no wish to obey the Osirian's commands. Zakkomir, too, now had his point in Sheafase's skin, and between them they backed him against the wall. The whole fracas had taken less than a minute.

"It's these helmets," said Barnevelt, remembering what Tangaloa had told him about Osirian pseudohypnosis. "We needn't be afraid of this lizard. Zei, open the door a crack and call my sailors."

As the sailors approached, the mao in the poncho groaned and moved.

"Kill him, Zei," said Barnevelt, a little surprised at his own ruthlessness. "Not that one—this one."

"How?"

"Pick up his sword, put the point against his neck, and push."

"But…"

"Do as I say! D'you want us all killed? That's a good girl." Zei threw the bloody sword away with a shudder. "Now," continued Barnevelt, "tie and gag the one who brought you here, the Earthman. I'll explain why later."

The four seamen stepped over the raised sill of the cabin door and halted as their eyes became accustomed to the dim light of the smoke-filled room and they took in the tableau. They chirped with surprise.

Barnevelt said: "Boys, shut the door and dump all this trash out of the chest. No, don't stop to pick up pieces! And don't let this monster look you in the eye, if you want to live."

As the chest was tilted over, the treasure slid out on the floor with a jinging crash.

Barnevelt continued: "Help the princess to tie that fellow up. Did you hear anything?"

One sailor said: "Aye, sir, we heard a sound as of voices raised, but nought that seemed to call for interference."

Zei said: "Be your purpose to carry me out in that chest?"

"Yes," said Barnevelt. "But—let me think." He hadn't planned on taking both Zei and Shtain, but he could hardly leave either without trying. He told the sailors: "Put the Earthman in the chest. Push him down as far as he'll go. Now, Zei, see if you can fit in on top of him…"

"Such vulgar intimacy with a stranger, and so unprepossessing a wight too!" she said, but climbed in nevertheless.

The lid would not go down with both, however.

Zakkomir said: "If you want the Earthman, leave him in the chest, and let the princess walk with us as though she had been ransomed. And let's escort the monster with our blades at ready, making a sweep of all three."

"Good," said Barnevelt. "Admiral, you're coming with us. You shall walk to our ship with my friend and I on either side, and at the first false move we let you have it."

"Where will you let me go?"

"Who said anything about letting you go? You shall have a voyage on my private yacht. Ready?"

The sailors picked up the chest containing Shtain. Barnevelt and Zakkomir each took Sheafase by one arm, holding their smallswords hidden behind their forearms, the points pricking the Osirian's skin. Behind them came Zei and the sailors.

The party walked aft to the gangplank that led to the next galley. They proceeded across this plank, then across the deck of the adjacent galley to the gangplank that led down to the floating pier at which the Shambor was tied up.

As they neared the latter companionway, however, heads appeared over the edge of the smaller galley, followed by the bodies of men coming up from the pier. At first Barnevelt thought they must be a party from his own. ship. However the light was still strong enough to show that they were not his men at all. A glance over the side of the quadrireme disclosed the mast of another small ship tied up to the pier next to the Shambor.

Barnevelt whispered: "Careful!" and pressed the point of his sword a little further into Sheafase's hide. He drew the Osirian to one side to let the other party pass.

The first member of the other party, going by at a distance of about two meters on the deck of the galley, started to make some sort of saluting gesture towards Sheafase—and then stopped and yelled "You!" in a rasping voice, looking straight at Barnevelt.

It was, Barnevelt saw, his old acquaintance Vizqash bad-Murani, the ex-salesman, against whose occiput he had shattered the mug in Jazmurian.

With a presence of mind that Barnevelt in calmer circumstances might have admired, Vizqash whipped out his sword and rushed. Barnevelt instinctively parried, but in doing so he loosened his grip on Sheafase, who instantly tore himself free. Zakkomir thrust at the reptile as he did so, inflicting a flesh-wound in the Osirian's side.

The other men of Vizqash's party ran in to help. The first to arrive struck at one of the sailors from the Shambor. His blade bit into the man's neck, half severing it, and the sailor fell dead. The other three dropped the chest, which landed on its side with a crash. The lid flew open and Shtain rolled out on deck.

Barnevelt parried a thrust from Vizqash, then got his point into his antagonist's thigh on the riposte.

"Run!" yelled Zakkomir.

As the wounded Vizqash fell, Barnevelt snatched a quick look around. Zakkomir was starting to drag Zei off. Sheafase was dancing out of reach and whistling orders to the Sun-qaruma, who were rushing upon the invaders. The three surviving sailors were running away; one dove over the rail. Hostile blades flickered in the twilight.

Barnevelt ran after Zakkomir and Zei, who bounded on to the gangplank leading to the big galley on which they had conferred with the pirate leaders. The three raced across the plank, then across the deck, and then across the plank to the third big galley. Feet pounded behind them.

"Hold a minute!" yelled Barnevelt as they gained the deck of the third galley. "Help me…"

He cut the ropes that belayed the end of the gangplank to the deck of the third ship. Then he and Zakkomir got their fingers under the end of the plank. A couple of Sunqaruma had already started across it from the other end, adding to the weight. With a mighty heave the two fugitives raised their end of the plank and shoved it free of the side of the ship. Down it went with a whoosh and a splash, and down went those who had started across it, with yells of dismay, into the weedy waters below.

A crossbow bolt whizzed past. Barnevelt and his companions ran to the other side of the ship they were on. Here a ladder led down the side of the ship to a scow, and from both ends of the scow a series of rafts led off into tangles of houseboats and miscellaneous craft.

"Which way?" asked Barnevelt as they gained the deck of the scow and paused, panting.

Zakkomir pointed. "That's north, the direction of that raft. You and Zei go to the next raft and crouch down out of sight, and when they come along I'll lead them in the opposite direction. Then can you and she try for our rendezvous."

"How about you?" asked Barnevelt uncomfortably. Not that he was keen to send Zakkomir off with Zei while he himself played the part of red herring, but it seemed hardly decent to let the young man sacrifice himself.

"Me? Fear not for me. I can lose them in the darkness, and under your inspiring leadership have I attained the courage of a very Qarar. Besides, my first duty's to the dynasty. Go quickly, for I hear them coming."

He pushed them, half unwilling, to the end of the scow. Unable to think of a better scheme, Barnevelt dropped down to the raft with Zei and hid under the overhang of the scow's bow.

Then sounds of pursuit increased, indicating that the Sun-qaruma had brought up another plank to replace the one thrown down. Zakkomir's footfalls receded, the cries of: "There he goes!"

"After him, knaves!" told the rest of the story.

When the noise died down, Barnevelt risked a peek over the end of the scow. People seemed to be moving in the distance, but the light was too far gone to tell much. He grasped Zei's hand and started off in the direction opposite to that which Zakkomir had taken.