"I am a captain," I said.

"But in Port Kar," he said.

"Yes," I said, "I am a Captain in Port Kar."

"But this is not Port Kar," he said.

I looked at him. "Port Kar," I said, "is wherever her power is."

He looked at me.

"I note," I said, "the wind has slackened."

His face turned white.

"Yes," I said.

At that moment, from far above, from the basket on the main mast, came the cry of the lookout, "Two ships off the port beam!"

"Out and read oars!" cried the oar-master, running to his chair.

I put down my pan of bread, onions and peas, sliding it under the bench. I might want it later.

I slid the oar out of the thole port and readied it.

Above on the deck I could hear running feet, men shouting.

I heard the voice of the Captain, Tenrik, crying to his helmsmen, "Hard to starboard!"

The big ship began to swing to starboard.

But then another cry, wild, drifted down from the basket on the main mast, "Two more ships! Off the starboard bow!"

"Helm ahead!" cried Tenrik. "Full sail! Maximun beat!"

As soon as the Rena had swung to her original course, the oar-master cried "Stroke!" and the mallets of the keleustes began to strike, in great beats, the copper-covered drum.

Two seamen came down from the upper deck and seized whips from racks behind the oar-master.

I smiled.

Beaten or not, the oarsmen could only draw their oars so rapidly. And it would not be rapidly enough.

I heard another cry drifting down from the basket far above. "Two more 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 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.

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.

"Where is the key?" he asked the oar-master.

When I was unchained, I stepped from the oar. The rest of the men were startled, but they maintained the beat.

"Those of you who are with me," I said, "I will free."

There was a cheer from the slaves.

"I am in command here," I said. "You will do as I say."

There was another cheer.

I held out my hand and the officer placed his sword in it, hilt first. I motioned that he might take my oar.

In fury, he did so.

"They are going to shear!" came a cry from above board.

"Oars inboard!" cried the oar-master, instinctively.

The oars slid inboard.

"Oars outboard!" I commanded.

Obediently the oars slid outboard, and suddenly, all along the starboard side there was a great grinding, and the slaves screamed, and there was a sudden ripping of planks and a great snapping and splintering of wood, the sounds magnified, thunderous and deafening, within the wooden hold. Some of the oars were torn from the thole ports, others were snapped off or half broken, the inboard portions of their shafts, with their looms, snapping in a stemward arc, knocking slaves from the benches, cracking against the interior of the hull planking. I heard some men cry out in pain, ribs or arms broken. For an ugly moment the ship canted sharply to starboard and we shipped water through the thole ports, but then the other ship, with her shearing blade, passed, and the Rena righted herself, but rocked helplessly, lame in the water.

From my point of view the battle was now over.

I looked at the officer. "Take the key," I said, "and release the other slaves." I heard Captain Tenrik above calling his men to arms to prepare to repel boarders.

The officer, obediently, one by one, began to release my fellow slaves. I regarded the oar-master. "You are a good oar-master," I said. "But now there are injured men to attend to."

He turned away, to aid those who had been hurt in the shearing.

I reached under my rowing bench. There, dented, its contents half spilled, itself floating in an inch or two of sea water, not yet drained down to the cargo hold, I found my pan of bread, onions and peas.

I sad down on my bench and ate.