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not be rapidly enough.
ships astern!
The heavy, leather-cushioned mallets of the keleustes struck again and again
on the copper-covered drum.
I heard, about a half an Ahn later, Tenrik call up to the lookout.
The man carried a long glass of the builders.
Can you make out their flag? he cried.
It is white, he cried, with stripes of green. It bears on its fielf the
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head of a bosk!
One of the slaves, chained before me, whispered over his shoulder. What is
your name, Captain?
Bosk, I told him, pulling on the oar.
Aiii! he cried.
Row! screamed the oar-master.
The seamen with the whips rushed between the benches, but none, of all those
there chained, slacked on the oars.
They are gaining! I heard a seaman cry from above.
Faster! someone cried from above decks.
But already the keleustes was pounding maximun beat. And doubtless that beat
could not be long maintained.
About a quarter of an Ahn later I heard what I had been waiting for.
Two more ships! cried the lookout.
Where? cried Tenrik.
Dead ahead! cried the lookout. Dead ahead!
Helm half to starboard! cried Tenrik.
Up oars! cried the oar-master. Port Oars! Stroke!
We lifted our oars, and then those of the port side only entered the water and
pressed against it. In a few strokes the heavy Rena had swung some eight
points, by the Gorean compass, to starboard.
Full oars! cried the oar-master. Stroke!
What shall we do? whispered the slave before me.
Row, I told him.
Silence! cried one of the seamen, and struck us each a stroke with the whip.
Then, foolishly, they began to lash away at the sweating backs of the slaves.
Two of the men lost the oars, and the free oars fouled those of other men.
The oar-master rushed between the benches and tore the whips away
from the seamen, ordering them above decks.
He was a good oar-master.
The man then called out, Up oars! Ready Oars! Stroke!
Again we found our rhythm, and again the Rena moved through the waters.
Faster! cried a man down into the rowing hold.
The oar-master judged his men. The beat was, even now, scarcely being made.
Decrease the beat by five points, said the oar-master to the keleustes.
Fool! I heard.
Anad an officer rushed down the steps into the rowing hold, and struck the
oar-master from his chair. Maximun beat! he screamed to the keleustes.
Again the rhythm was that of the maximun beat.
The officer, with a cry of rage, then turned and ran up the stairs to the main
deck.
Maximun beat.
But, in less than an Ehn, one man failed to maintain it, and then two, and the
oars began to foul. Relentlessly though the keleustes, under his orders,
pounded the great drum.
Then the strokes of the drum were no longer coordinated with the oars.
The men, many of them, could no longer maintain the beat of the keleustes, and
they had no guide for a stroke they could draw.
The oar-master, his face bloody climbed to his feet. Up oars! he cried.
Then he spoke to the keleustes, wearily, Ten from maximum beat.
We took u this beat, and again the Rena moved.
Faster! cried the officer from above. Faster!
This is not a tarn ship! cried the oar-master.
You will die! screamed the officer down into the hold. You will die!
As the keleustes kept his beat, the oar-master, trembling, mouth bloody,
walked between the benches. He came toward me. He looked at me.
I am in command here, I told him.
I know, he said.
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At that moment the officer again came down the steps, entering the rowing
hold. His eyes were wild. He had a drawn sword in his hand.
Which of these, he asked, is the captain from Port Kar?
I am, I told him.
You are the one they call Bosk? he said.
I am he, I said.
I am going to kill you, he said.
I would not, if I were you, I said.
His hand hesitated.
Should anything happen to me, I said, I do not think my men would be much
pleased.
His hand fell.
Unchain me, I told him.
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