"And if we do?" said Tangaloa softly.
"You will see. You must go with these men, but no harm shall come to you."
"Please give up," said Eileen Foley from behind the Krish-nans. "It's the best way."
"We have given you your chance," said Vizqash. "If anybody is hurt it will be your fault."
Barnevelt said: "What's your connection with this, Eileen?"
"I-I…"
"Manyoi chi!" cried Vizqash in his harsh voice, switching from Portuguese to his native Gozashtandou.
However, instead of all rushing in at once—which would have ended the encounter right then—the men inched forward, looking at one another as if each were waiting for the other to take the first shock.
Tangaloa let fly one of his stones with a mighty heave.
"Moho raj!" shrieked Vizqash.
Crunch! The stone struck the archer in the face just as he was reaching back over his shoulder for an arrow. He fell backwards, his face a mask of blood.
Barnevelt, scared but determined, remembered the old platitude about the best defense. He accordingly launched a furious attaque-en-marchant at the nearest Krishnan. Eileen Foley screamed.
Tangaloa threw his second stone at Vizqash, who ducked and stooped to pick up another.
Barnevelt caught his opponent's blade in a whirling prise and drove him backwards. The Krishnan stumbled on a stone and fell sprawling. As he started to sit up, Barnevelt ran him through the body.
At this instant Barnevelt felt a sharp pain in his left side, towards the rear, and heard the sound of tearing cloth. He spun. He had driven right through the line of foes, one of whom had thrust at him from behind. He parried a second thrust and knocked up a blade coming at him from still another direction. He knew that even a much abler fencer than he would stand no chance against two at once.
Tangaloa had thrown another stone and vaulted to the top of the wall. Three Krishnans were running towards him and in a couple of seconds would skewer him.
"Run!" bellowed Tangaloa, dropping off the wall to the slope below.
CHAPTER VI
Two Krishnans were threatening Barnevelt, and others were crowding forward. Since Eileen seemed to be on the other side in this game, he could leave her with a clear conscience. One Krishnan stood directly between him and the wall; the other was boring in from his right. Barnevelt threw himself forward into a corps-d-corps, and during the instant that his antagonist's body shielded him he punched the man with his left fist, hard and low. As the Krishnan started to double up, Barnevelt shoved him out of the way and leaped to the top of the wall, just as a sweeping slash from another sword carried away his cap.
Tangaloa was already halfway down the slope and, to Barnevelt's right, several Krishnans were climbing over the wall in pursuit. Barnevelt jumped off the wall and bounded down the slope in giant strides, his heels sinking into the loose earth at each step. Ahead of him Tangaloa kept right on through the reeds that bordered the river, his boots swishing through the plants, and into the river itself.
Barnevelt knew he was too encumbered to swim well, but the Krishnans would hardly hold off while he sat down to wrestle with his boots. He threw his sword at the nearest, cast aside baldric and scabbard, and plunged in after his colleague, who was already wallowing swiftly out towards midstream like an overdressed porpoise.
WJisht-plunk! Something struck the water beside Barnevelt. A glance back showed that one of the Krishnans had picked up the bow of the man whom Tangaloa had downed with the first stone, and was shooting from the top of the wall. Eileen Foley was looking on while Vizqash ran about waving his sword and shouting orders.
Whsht-plunk! A couple of Krishnans at the edge of the water were throwing off coats, shoes, and other impedimenta.
"Duck!" Barnevelt called to Tangaloa, who immediately disappeared.
Barnevelt did likewise. Through the water the sandy bottom, little over wading depth, could be seen below. Water-plants waved gently in the current.
When Barnevelt began to yearn for air he drove himself back up to the surface, shaking his head to throw nonexistent hair out of his eyes. He glanced back. Half a dozen Krishnans, it seemed, were stripping to swim or were already splashing into the water after him. Ahead, Tangaloa's big brown head broke the surface, puffing like a grampus.
Whsht-plunk! Barnevelt took a deep breath and ducked under again. The bottom was now almost invisible, meters below. Another arrow darted down into the water near him from the quicksilvery surface above, trailing a comet-tail of bubbles. It lost speed within a meter and drifted back up to the surface where it hung, point downward, like a little buoy.
This time he came up out of effective range. However, five or six Krishnans were now swimming out from shore, plodding along with sedate breast-strokes. The current had already carried Barnevelt and Tangaloa quite a way downstream. Barnevelt had no great fear of Krishnans in the water; he was a good swimmer and Tangaloa a superb one. But…
"George!" he called. "If we let those buggers follow us to the north side, they'll get us sure."
Tangaloa spat water. "We could wait in the shallows and stoush them as they crawl out."
"Then they'll spread up and down stream, so while we're conking one the others would get to shore. How about taking care of them right here?"
"Can you swim back to the first one under water?"
"I think so."
"All right—you take number one."
Tangaloa went under in a porpoise-roll, his feet showing momentarily. Barnevelt followed suit and swam towards the nearest pursuer. Ahead of him Tangaloa barreled along, gaining fast and heading for the second.
From below the pursuers looked like headless men. Barnevelt planned how to meet his antagonist. The man had stripped down to his underwear, a kind of diaper that flapped about his loins as he swam. The hilt of the Krishnan's dagger protruded from the waistband of this garment.
Barnevelt kicked himself into position below and in front of this Krishnan and then, as his natural buoyancy wafted him upwards, drew his own dagger. He had timed his approach carefully, and as the man came overhead he brought his legs together in a scissor kick and drove his dagger into the other's belly.
At once the water became dark with blood and opaque with bubbles as the man thrashed wildly. At that instant Tangaloa seized the ankles of the second swimmer and dragged him under.
Barnevelt thrust his head out for a long breath beside the man he had stabbed. The other swimmers were all looking towards the scene with alarmed expressions. By now they had all drifted down-stream out of sight of the ruin.
The stabbed man, lying limply face-down on the surface, was beginning to slide under. Tangaloa's head bobbed up near where he had pulled the second man under, but of his victim there was no sign.
"Take the next two?" said Tangaloa.
The other Krishnans, however, all turned and splashed back for the shore whence they had come. Barnevelt and Tangaloa struck out for the north side of the river. A long swim, but they could now take their time about it. They shed their outer clothing.
"Good thing they didn't have the rowboat handy," said Barnevelt. "A rowboat's as good as a cruiser if the other guy's swimming."
"What's back of this?" said Tangaloa "The shiela seemed to be in with the push."
They swam silently until the bottom again came into sight below them, and presently they waded out and sat down on a log to rest. Their pursuers had disappeared.
Barnevelt said: "Hey, you're cut too!"
Tangaloa looked at the wound on his left arm. "A scratch; let's see yours."