'They have redistributed the ballast,' called Callimachus. 'Splendid!'
The vessel continued to approach the chain. I could hear the stroke of the hortator's hammer even on the _Tina_. Such a speed could be continued for only a few moments. I saw more of the hull, and its keel, dripping, lifting out of the water.
'Are they mad?' I called.
'It is their intention to ride over the chain,' said Callimachus.
I clutched the rail, in wonder. Every bit of sand in the lower hold must have been thrust to the stern of the vessel. Gear, too, and catapult stones, had been slid to the stern deck. Even the crew, other than oarsmen, their weapons ready, had congregated there.
Then the concave prow of the vessel had cleared the chain. There was a great scraping as the chain tore at the keel. Then the galley, half on the chain and half off, moved eccentrically, teetering, like a ship caught on a bar, stranded and buffeted, assailed by conflicting currents.
'Out oars!' called Callimachus. 'Ready!'
We saw another galley from the west, too, its prow high, speeding toward the chain.
The first galley, its oars stroking, slashing at the Vosk, its hull twisting, careened forward and to the side.
'It will clear the chain!' I cried.
'Two points to port!' cried Callimachus. 'Stroke!' His officer, by hand signals, conveyed his message to the helmsmen and oar master at the stern.
'It is clearing the chain!' I cried.
Already the _Tina_ was speeding toward the intruder. I flung myself to the deck. We took her in the starboard bow, as she slid, grinding and splintering, from the chain.
'Back oars!' called Callimachus.
The impact had slid me back on the deck for a dozen feet.
'Back oars!' called Callimachus.
The _Tina_, shuddering, backing, with a splintering of wood, freed her ram.
I, crouching, peered over the side. The forward deck of the enemy was already awash.
I saw men there, in water to their knees, clinging to rails. The catapult on the enemy's stern castle had broken loose from its large, rotating mount. Its ropage hung down, dangling in the wind. The strands seemed narrow, from the distance from which I viewed them. The largest, however, would be some four inches in diameter. I saw a man leap from the stern castle into the water.
'Look!' cried out a man, in misery. He was pointing to starboard. The second enemy galley had ridden over the chain.
'The first of the Voskjard's ships has crossed the chain!' cried another.
We saw other galleys, too, approaching the chain.
'Another has crossed!' cried a man, pointing to starboard. Beyond that ship we could see another galley, too, but this one was striking at the chain.
The _Mira_ was hastening to engage the galley which had ridden over the chain.
The _Mira_ made good her strike. There was a cheer from our vessel. The starboard rudder of the enemy galley had been torn away in crossing the chain. The galleys of the Voskjard, like most Gorean ships, were double ruddered.
'Hard to starboard!' cried Callimachus.
As we came about a pirate galley knifed towards us.
'To starboard!' cried Callimachus. Then he cried, 'Oars inboard!'
Her ram missed us. Her port shearing blade tore at our strakes.
'Oars outboard!' called Callimachus. 'Come about!'
The two ships had slid past one another. As the ships passed I had looked into the eyes of a pirate. He had not been more than five feet from me.
'Two more ships are over the chain!' called the officer with Callimachus, pointing to port.
'Ships of Port Cos are approaching!' cried another man. There was a cheer on our vessel. Ten such ships were at the chain. Twenty others lay to in the waters near the south guard station, which post was held by Callisthenes. These ships, those of Port Cos, were our hope. It was only these, we feared, who might be able to match the forces of the Voskjard in even combat. The ships of Ar's Station could bring numbers to bear in our favor, but we did not regard them, ship for ship, as the match of either a galley of the Voskjard or of Port Cos. The naval tradition of Cos is an ancient one, and many of the officers of Port Cos were native Cosians, mercenaries or veterans of the Cosian navy, on detached duty to the colony, that the interests of the mother island might be defended on the Vosk.
'There is a ship of Ar's Station!' called out the officer on the stem castle.
There was a cheer at this cry.
We had now come about, but already the galley which had nearly torn us open was facing us.
'She has quick lines,' said a man.
'Why has she not attacked?' asked a man.
'She is waiting for support,' said a man.
'No,' said another. 'If we move to the chain, she can ram us amidships.'
'She is defending her sisters,' said a man.
'We can no longer protect the chain,' said another.
But then we saw the galley swinging to starboard. Another galley, one flying the pennons of Port Cos, was speeding towards her.
There was another cheer from our men. 'Back to the chain!' called Callimachus, elated.
'Another has slipped over!' cried out a man, angrily, pointing over the bow.
It was free of the chain. We could not catch her. She slipped behind us on the waters of the broad, muddy Vosk.
'How many have passed the chain?' asked a man, glumly.
'Who knows?' asked another.
Here and there, at the chain, again and again, pirate galleys were striking at the great links, and then backing away, and then again, patiently, renewing their attack.
'Doubtless they are hammering at points where they know the chain was weakened in the night,' said a man near me. He had been with me in the longboat last night.
'Yes,' I said: 'Look there!'
I pointed to one of the truncated pylons rising out of the river. It had been splashed with yellow paint.
'Catapults!' called Callimachus.
Two stones looped into the air and then, gracefully, began their descent toward one of the pirate ships.
Huge spumes of water rose into the air as the great rocks plunged into the Vosk.
'Bowmen!' called Callimachus.
We neared the first of the galleys and flighted arrows toward her.
She drew back.
'There are others,' said a man.
We moved along the chain. We came upon the wreckage of a pirate galley, broken in two, deserted. It had broken, attempting to ride over the chain.
'There is a pirate galley behind us, a pasang back, lying to!' called out a man, aft on the stern castle.
'We remain at the chain,' said Callimachus.
'It seems to list,' called the man. 'I think it is crippled.'
'We remain at the chain,' said Callimachus.
I smiled. He was a good commander. He would not be lured from his post. A ship can be made to seem to list by re-positioning the ballast in its lower hold. If the ship were truly a cripple I did not think it would be lying to. An oared fighting ship is seldom helpless. Too, if the ship were crippled, it posed no immediate threat. And, if it were not crippled, it needed only be kept under observation. Isolated ships can be dealt with on a piecemeal basis. Our duty lay at the chain. He who thoughtlessly abandons his defenses strikes a poor bargain with fortune.
