The slaves stood up, stretching their aching limbs, and then, one by one, they hauled themselves to the side of the ship and began to slide into the water.
D'Averc watched them go with a grin.
"A shame we can't help those on the other side," he said.
"Why not?" asked Hawkmoon indicating a hatch let into the side under the catwalk. "If I'm not mistaken, this leads under the deck."
He put his back to the side of the ship and kicked at the hatch. Several kicks and it sprang open. They entered the darkness and crept under the boards, hearing the sounds of fighting immediately above them.
D'Averc paused, slicing open a bundle with his much-blunted blade. Jewels poured out of the bundle.
"Their loot," he said.
"No time for that now," Hawkmoon warned, but D'Averc was grinning.
"I didn't plan to keep it," he told his friend, "but I'd hate Valjon to escape with it if the fight goes well for him. Look…" and he indicated a large circular object set into the bottom of the hold. "If I'm not mistaken, this will let a little of the river into the ship!"
Hawkmoon nodded. "While you work on that, I'll make haste to free the slaves."
He left D'Averc to his task and reached the far hatch, stripping out the pegs holding it in position.
The hatch burst inwards, bringing two struggling men with it. One wore the uniform of the attacking ship, the other was a pirate. With a quick movement, Hawkmoon despatched the pirate. The uniformed man looked at him in surprise. "You're one of the men we saw fighting on the poop deck!"
Hawkmoon nodded. "What's your ship?"
"It's Bewchard's ship," replied the man wiping his forehead, he spoke as if the name were sufficient explanation.
"And who is Bewchard?"
The uniformed man laughed. "Why, he's Valjon's sworn enemy, if that's what you need to know. He saw you fighting. He was impressed by your swordsmanship."
"So he should have been," grinned Hawkmoon, "for I fought my best today. And why not? I was fighting for my life!"
"That often makes excellent swordsmen of us all," agreed the man. "I'm Culard-and your friend if you're Valjon's foe."
"Best warn your comrades, then," said Hawkmoon.
"We're sinking the ship-look." He pointed through the dimness to where D'Averc was wrestling with the circular bung.
Culard nodded swiftly and ducked out into the slave pit again. "I'll see you after this is over, friend," he called as he left. "If we live!"
Hawkmoon followed him, creeping along the aisle to cut the slaves' bonds.
Above him the men of Bewchard's ship seemed to be driving Valjon's pirates back. Hawkmoon felt the ship move suddenly, saw D'Averc come hastily out of the hatch.
"I think we'd best make for the shore," said the Frenchman with a smile, jerking his "thumb at the slaves who were disappearing over the side. "Follow our friends' example."
Hawkmoon nodded. "I've warned Bewchard's men of what's happening. We've repaid Valjon now, I think."
He tucked Valjon's sword under his arm. "I'll try not to lose this blade-it's the finest I've ever used. Such a blade would make an outstanding swordsman of anyone!"
He clambered up to the side and saw that Bewchard's men had driven the pirate sailors back to the other side of the ship but were now withdrawing.
Culard had evidently spread the news.
Water was bubbling through the hatch. The ship would not last long afloat. Hawkmoon turned and looked back. There was barely space between the ships to swim. The best method of escape would be to cross the deck of Bewchard's schooner.
He informed D'Averc of his plan. His friend nodded and they poised themselves on the rail, leaping out to land on the deck of the other ship.
There were no rowers present and Hawkmoon realized that Bewchard's oarsmen must be free men, part of the fighting complement of the ship. This, it seemed to him, was a more sensible scheme-less wasteful than the use of slaves. It also gave him cause to pause and, as he paused, a voice called from the River Wind.
"Hey, my friend. You with the black gem in your forehead. Have you plans for scuttling my ship, too?"
Hawkmoon turned and saw a good looking young man, dressed all in black leather with a high-collared bloodstained blue cloak thrown back from his shoulders, a sword in one hand and an axe in the other, raising his sword to him from the rail of the doomed galley.
"We're on our way," called Hawkmoon. "Your ship's safe from us…"
"Stay a moment!" The black-clad man leapt up and balanced himself on the River Wind's rail. "I'd like to thank you for doing half our work for us."
Reluctantly Hawkmoon waited until the man had leapt back to his own ship and approached them along the deck.
"I'm Pahl Bewchard and the ship's mine," he said.
"I've waited many weeks to catch the River Windmight not have done so, had you not taken on the best part of the crew and given me tune to sneak out of the cove…"
"Aye," said Hawkmoon. "Well, I want no further part in a quarrel between pirates…"
"You do me a disservice sir," Bewchard replied easily. "For I'm sworn to rid the river of the Pirate Lords of Starvel. I am their fiercest enemy."
Bewchard's men were swarming back into their own ship, cutting loose the mooring ropes as they came.
The River Wind swung round in the current, her stern now below the water-line. Some of the pirates leapt overboard, but there was no sign of Valjon.
"Where did their leader escape to!" D'Averc asked, studying the ship.
"He's like a rat," Bewchard answered. "Doubtless he slipped away as soon as it was plain the day was lost for him. You have helped me greatly, gentlemen, for Valjon is the worst of the pirates. I am grateful."
And D'Averc, never at a loss where courtesy and his own interests were concerned, replied, "And we are grateful to you, Captain Bewchard-for arriving when things were lost for us. The debt is settled." He smiled pleasantly.
Bewchard inclined his head. "Thank you. However, if I may make a somewhat direct statement, you seem in need of something to aid your recovery. Both of you are wounded, your clothes are plainly not what you, as gentlemen, would normally choose to wear… I mean, in short, that I would be honoured if you would accept the hospitality of my ship's galley, such as it is, and the hospitality of my mansion when we dock."
Hawkmoon frowned thoughtfully. He had taken a liking to the young captain. "And where do you plan to dock, sir?"
"In Narleen," replied Bewchard. "Where I live."
"We were, in fact, travelling to Narleen before we were trapped by Valjon," Hawkmoon began.
"Then you must certainly travel with me. If I can be of assistance…"
"Thank you, Captain Bewchard," Hawkmoon said.
"We should appreciate your aid in reaching Narleen.
And perhaps on the way you would be able to supply us with some information which we lack."
"Willingly." Bewchard gestured toward a door set beneath the poop deck. "My cabin is this way, gentlemen."
Chapter Six
NARLEEN
THROUGH THE PORTHOLES of Captain Bewchard's cabin, they saw the spray fly as the ship flung itself downriver under full sail.
"If we should meet a couple of pirates," Bewchard told them, "we should have little chance. That is why we make such speed."
The cook brought in the last of the dishes and laid it before them. There were several kinds of meat, fish and vegetables, fruit and wine. Hawkmoon ate as sparingly as possible, unable to resist at least a sample of everything on the table, but aware that his stomach might not yet be ready for such rich food.
"This is a celebration meal," Bewchard told them cheerfully, "for I have been hunting Valjon for months."