The other eleven ships with me were, not too gracefully, by intention, coming about to join me in my flight.
I ordered the trumpeter and the man on the flags to now signal flight to them. These twelve ships, including the Dorna, incidentally, were my swiftest. It seemed probable, with a decent start, which we had, we could stay ahead of the pursuing ram-ships, if we chose, either indefinitely, or, if they were faster, which I doubted, at least for several Ahn.
We were not moving, of course, at only half beat.
I wished our pursuit to be tempting.
It was.
Anothered tarred, flaming javelin fell hissing into the water. This time in fell only fifty yards astern.
In another quarter of an Ahn I could count thirty ram-ships engaged in our pursuit. IF there were more, I could not see them. The treasure fleet itself lay to.
I watched a burning javelin from the lead ship of the pursuers arc gracefully and smoking through the air and drop hissing into the water some fifteen yards to my right, abeam of stern.
I smiled. "Three quarters beat," I recommended to our oar-master.
My vessels as though in terror, were keeping no formation, but apparently scattering across the southeast. Each had picked up two or three pursuers. My own ship, perhaps recongnized as the probablye flagship, it having been first in the original formation, was honored by five pursuers. After two Ahn, sometimes increasing the beat, sometimes decreasing it, depending on whether or not we wished to avoid being actually overtaken or we wished to encourage our pursuers, we had spread them behind us in a long, straggling line, its spacing an index to the speed of their individual ships.
By this time, of course, the balance of my fleet, eighteen ram'ships, would have struck the treasure fleet, now protected only by some ten ram-ships, from the northwest.
I was puzzled somewhat, but not too much, that our pursuit had been so relentless.
I had flown the flag of Bosk, from the marshes, boldly trusting that this incitement would encourage prompt and fierce pursuit. Doubtless in Cos and Tyros there was a high price indeed on my head. I was puzzled only that the pursuit had been as relentless and prolonged as it was. I had not realized my importance to the men of the two island Ubarates. I chuckled. Apparently I was more significant to them than I had fancied myself.
It was the twelfth Ahn before the commander of the first pursuing ship understood either that had been tricked or that he was not likely to overtake our ships.
"Rest oars!" I called.
I watched the tarn ship heave to, then port oars, and turn away.
"How are the men?" I asked the oar-master.
It was he who had been oar-master on the Rena of Temos.
"They are strong," he said, "You did not even call maximum beat."
"Rest them now," I said.
There were trumpet signals now from the ship that had been pursuing us, and flags on her halyards. The ships behind her began turning about. Some of the ships to the sides, perhaps having seen the flags with glasses from their stem or stern castles, also ceased the pursuit. Others were out of visual range, scattered somewhere on Thassa.
As soon as I saw the tarn ship which had been pursuing us begin to move away, I gave my orders.
"Come about," I said, "and maximum beat."
There was a cheer from the oarsmen.
I had little doubt the Dorna was swifter than the ship that had pursued her. She was now moving way, perhaps at half beat.
I did not think she would have time to turn about again.
We fired no missile, and gave no warning.
We were within fifty yards of her before a seaman on her stern castle, looking back, screamed the warning.
The iron-shod ram of the Dorna splintered into her stern a foot below water line.
"Back oars!" came the cry from the oar-master, and the Dorna, rocking and shuddering from the impact, chopped her way backward.
"Helmsmen pass to starboard!" I called. "Stroke, Maximum beat!"
The stern of the enemy ship was already under water as she slipped past her. Crossbow quarrels struck the reinforced parapet protecting my rowers. There wee no other missiles.
We heard screams, cries of alarm.
There were still fourn ships ahead of us. The nearest was not more than a hundred yards before the one we had just struck.
The noice of our strike and the cries of the men aboard the rammed ship carried over the water.
We saw the ship ahead of us trying to come about, but, before she could make four points of the Gorean compass, or ram struck the corner of her stern, skidding through and freeing itself, the ships, the Dorna's port ors inboard, grating together, and the the Dorna was clear, free, and we were driving toward the stern of the next ship.
We heard trumpets blaring behind us frantically, trying to warn the ship ahead of us.
It, too, began to come about, and we caught her amidships, the ram thrusting through the heavy planking like kindling, then stopped by the shield, like a spread tarn's crest, and we chopped our way back and free, and then knifed past her stern toward the next two ships.
By this time the two ships ahead of us wee well aware of their danger and, given he distances involved, neither captain elected to chance the dangerous maneuver of coming about to meet us. Both were fleeing at maximum beat.
"Half of maximum beat," I told the oar-master.
The oar-master grinned, and went to the center of the rowing frame. As the beat dropped, I took out the glass of the builders and scanned the horizon.
I could see few ships, but most of those I swa were green, my own. I could see the wreckage of two of the enemy tarn ships. I was quite content, of course, if each of my ships not in view were continuing to lead their pursuers a merry chase. If each of them could lure their two or three hounds astray, the oods of engagement at the truly critical points would be so much the more in my favor. I was willing to spend one ship to draw two or three enemy ships from the battle, if battle there was to be. And, of course, as soon as he enemy ships would turn back, they would be vulnerable to my own, presumably faster vessels. Of the twelve ships in my diversion, five were my fastest and seven were among the fastest in the arsenal.
I now turned the glass again to the ship fleeing me. As I had expected, he had now begun to dawn substantially ahead, since I had reduced to half to maximum beat. In another four or five Ehn I expected he would regard his lead as sufficient to permit him the time to safely come about and engage. He would assuming, of course, that I, in pursuing him, was at maximum beat, as he was. I had held my beat to had of maximum. My oar-master had been calling beat, this time, by mouth from the center of the rowing frame.
When I saw the tarn ship ahead, its captain doubtless confident of his speeds and distances, lift her oars, preparing to come about, I called to the oar-master, "Now!"
Without the loss of a stroke he, at the center of the rowing frame, began to call maximum beat, "Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!"
The Dorna, stern low, ram almost lifted from the water, leapt ahead, as beautiful, as eager and vicious as an unleashed sleen.
We took the fourth ship amidships, as we had the third.
Angrily the Dorna shook herself loose.
Then, in an Ehn, we were in pursuit of the last ship. It showed no sign of turning. It was now far in advance of us.
"Maximum beat," said the oar-mater to his keleustes, and then came to stand beside me on the stern castle.
"Can we catch her?" I asked.
"Hand me your glass," he asked.
I did so.
"Do you know the ship?" I asked.
"No," he said.
He looked at her for better than an Ehn, studying the rise and fall, the sweep, of the oars.
Then he said, "Yes, we can catch her."
He handed me back the glass.