<h2><SPAN name="IX" id="IX"></SPAN>9</h2>
<h3>Battle Test</h3>
<p>Babble of speech, cries, sounded muffled to Ross, made a mounting clamor
on the deck. Had the raiders' ship been boarded? Was it now under
attack? He strove to hear and think through the pain in his head, the
bewilderment.</p>
<p>"Loketh?" He was certain that the Hawaikan had been dumped into the same
hold.</p>
<p>The only answer was a low moan, a mutter from the dark. Ross began to
inch his way in that direction. He was no seaman, but during that worm's
progress he realized that the ship itself had changed. The vibration
which had carried through the planks on which he lay was stilled. Some
engine shut off; one portion of his mind put that into familiar terms.
Now the vessel rocked with the waves, did not bore through them.</p>
<p>Ross brought up against another body.</p>
<p>"Loketh!"</p>
<p>"Ahhhhh ... the fire ... the fire—!" The half-intelligible answer held
no meaning for the Terran. "It burns in my head ... the fire—"</p>
<p>The rocking of the ship rolled Ross away from his fellow prisoner toward
the opposite side of the hold. There was a roar of voice, bull strong
above the noise on deck, then the sound of feet back and forth there.</p>
<p>"The fire ... ahhh—" Loketh's voice rose to a scream.</p>
<p>Ross was now wedged between two abutments he could not see and from
which his best efforts could not free him. The pitching of the ship was
more pronounced. Remembering the two vessels he had seen pounded to bits
on the reef, Ross wondered if the same doom loomed for this one. But
that disaster had occurred during a storm. And, save for the fog, this
had been a calm night, the sea untroubled.</p>
<p>Unless—maybe the shaking his body had received during the past few
moments had sharpened his thinking—unless the Foanna had their own
means of protection at the sea gate and this was the result. The
dolphins.... What had made Tino-rau and Taua react as they did? And if
the Rover ship was out of control, it would be a good time to attempt
escape.</p>
<p>"Loketh!" Ross dared to call louder. "Loketh!" He struggled against the
drying strands which bound him from shoulder to mid thigh. There was no
give in them.</p>
<p>More sounds from the upper deck. Now the ship was answering to direction
again. The Terran heard sounds he could not identify, and the ship no
longer rocked so violently. Loketh moaned.</p>
<p>As far as Ross could judge, they were heading out to sea.</p>
<p>"Loketh!" He wanted information; he must have it! To be so ignorant of
what was going on was unbearable frustration. If they were now prisoners
in a ship leaving the island behind.... The threat of that was enough to
set Ross struggling with his bonds until he lay panting with exhaustion.</p>
<p>"Rossss?" Only a Hawaikan could make that name a hiss.</p>
<p>"Here! Loketh?" But of course it was Loketh.</p>
<p>"I am here." The other's voice sounded oddly weak as if it issued from a
man drained by a long illness.</p>
<p>"What happened to you?" Ross demanded.</p>
<p>"The fire ... the fire in my head—eating ... eating...." Loketh's reply
came with long pauses between the words.</p>
<p>The Terran was puzzled. What fire? Loketh had certainly reacted to
something beyond the unceremonious handling they had received as
captives. This whole ship had reacted. And the dolphins.... But what
fire was Loketh talking about?</p>
<p>"I did not feel anything," he stated to himself as well as to the
Hawaikan.</p>
<p>"Nothing burning in your head? So you could not think—"</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>"It must have been the Foanna magic. Fire eating so that a man is
nothing, only that which fire feeds upon!"</p>
<p>Karara! Ross's thoughts flashed back to those few seconds when the
dolphins had seemed to go crazy. Karara had then called out something
about the Foanna. So the dolphins must have felt this, and Karara, and
Loketh. Whatever <i>it</i> was. But why not Ross Murdock?</p>
<p>Karara possessed an extra, undefinable sense which gave her contact with
the dolphins. Loketh had a mind which those could read in turn. But such
communication was closed to Ross.</p>
<p>At first that realization carried with it a feeling of shame and loss.
That he did not have what these others possessed, a subtle power beyond
the body, a part of mind, was humbling. Just as he had felt shut out and
crippled when he had been forced to use the analyzer instead of the
sense the others had, so did he suffer now.</p>
<p>Then Ross laughed shortly. All right, sometimes insensitivity could be a
defense as it had at the sea gate. Suppose his lack could also be a
weapon? He had not been knocked out as the others appeared to be. But
for the bad luck of having been captured before the raiders had
succumbed, Ross could, perhaps, have been master of this ship by now. He
did not laugh now; he smiled sardonically at his own grandiose reaction.
No use thinking about what might have been, just file this fact for
future reference.</p>
<p>A creaking overhead heralded the opening of the hatch. Light lanced down
into the cubby, and a figure swung over and down a side ladder, coming
to stand over Ross, feet apart for balancing, accommodating to the swing
of the vessel with the ease of long practice.</p>
<p>Thus Ross came face to face with his first representative of the third
party in the Hawaikan tangle of power—a Rover.</p>
<p>The seaman was tall, with a heavier development of shoulder and upper
arms than the landsmen. Like the guards he wore supple armor, but this
had been colored or overlaid with a pearly hue in which other tints wove
opaline lines. His head was bare except for a broad, scaled band running
from the nape of his neck to the mid-point of his forehead, a band
supporting a sharply serrated crest not unlike the erect fin of some
Terran fish.</p>
<p>Now as he stood, fists planted on hips, the Rover presented a formidable
figure, and Ross recognized in him the air of command. This must be one
of the ship's officers.</p>
<p>Dark eyes surveyed Ross with interest. The light from the deck focused
directly across the raider's shoulder to catch the Terran in its full
glare, and Ross fought the need for squinting. But he tried to give back
stare for stare, confidence for self-confidence.</p>
<p>On Terra in the past more than one adventurer's life had been saved
simply because he had the will and nerve enough to face his captors
without any display of anxiety. Such bravado might not hold here and
now, but it was the only weapon Ross had to hand and he used it.</p>
<p>"You—" the Rover broke the silence first, "you are not of the Foanna—"
He paused as if waiting an answer—denial or protest. Ross provided
neither.</p>
<p>"No, not of the Foanna, nor of the scum of the coast either." Again a
pause.</p>
<p>"So, what manner of fish has come to the net of Torgul?" He called an
order aloft. "A rope here! We'll have this fish and its fellow out—"</p>
<p>Loketh and Ross were jerked up to the outer deck, dumped into the midst
of a crowd of seamen. The Hawaikan was left to lie but, at a gesture
from the officer, Ross was set on his feet. He could see the nature of
his bonds now, a network of dull gray strands, shriveled and stinking,
but not giving in the least when he made another try at moving his arms.</p>
<p>"Ho—" The officer grinned. "This fish does not like the net! You have
teeth, fish. Use them, slash yourself free."</p>
<p>A murmur of applause from the crew answered that mild taunt. Ross
thought it time for a countermove.</p>
<p>"I see you do not come too close to those teeth." He used the most
defiant words his limited Hawaikan vocabulary offered.</p>
<p>There was a moment of silence, and then the officer clapped his hands
together with a sharp explosion of sound.</p>
<p>"You would use your teeth, fish?" he asked and his tone could be a
warning.</p>
<p>This was going it blind with a vengeance, but Ross took the next leap in
the dark. He had the feeling, which often came to him in tight quarters,
that he was being supplied from some hard core of endurance and
determination far within him with the right words, the fortunate guess.</p>
<p>"On which one of you?" He drew his lips tight, displaying those same
teeth, wondering for one startled moment if he should take the Rover's
query literally.</p>
<p>"Vistur! Vistur!" More than one voice called.</p>
<p>One of the crew took a step or two forward. Like Torgul, he was tall and
heavy, his over-long arms well muscled. There were scars on his
forearms, the seam of one up his jaw. He looked what he was, a very
tough fighting man, one who was judged so by peers as seasoned and
dangerous.</p>
<p>"Do you choose to prove your words on Vistur, fish?" Again the officer
had a formal note in his question, as if this was all part of some
ceremony.</p>
<p>"If he meets with me as he stands—no other weapons." Ross flashed back.</p>
<p>Now he had another reaction from them. There were some jeers, a
sprinkling of threats as to Vistur's intentions. But Ross caught also
the fact that two or three of them had gone silent and were eyeing him
in a new and more searching fashion and that Torgul was one of those.</p>
<p>Vistur laughed. "Well said, fish. So shall it be."</p>
<p>Torgul's hand came out, palm up, facing Ross. In its hollow was a small
object the Terran could not see clearly. A new weapon? Only the officer
made no move to touch it to Ross, the hand merely moved in a series of
waves in mid-air. Then the Rover spoke.</p>
<p>"He carries no unlawful magic."</p>
<p>Vistur nodded. "He's no Foanna. And what need have I to fear the spells
of any coast crawler? I am Vistur!"</p>
<p>Again the yells of his supporters arose in hearty answer. The statement
held more complete and quiet confidence than any wordy boast.</p>
<p>"And I am Ross Murdock!" The Terran matched the Rover tone for tone.
"But does a fish swim with its fins bound to its sides? Or does Vistur
fear a free fish too greatly to face one?"</p>
<p>His taunt brought the result Ross wanted. The ties were cut from behind,
to flutter down as withered, useless strings. Ross flexed his arms.
Tight as those thongs had been they had not constricted circulation, and
he was ready to meet Vistur. The Terran did not doubt that the Rover
champion was a formidable fighter, but he had not had the advantage of
going through one of the Agent training courses. Every trick of unarmed
fighting known on his own world had been pounded into Ross long ago. His
hands and feet could be as deadly weapons as any crook-bladed sword—or
gun—provided he could get close enough to use them properly.</p>
<p>Vistur stripped off his weapon belt, put to one side his helmet, showing
that under it his hair was plaited into a braid coiled about the crown
of his head to provide what must be an extra padding for that strangely
narrowed helm. Then he peeled off his armor, peeled it literally indeed,
catching the lower edge of the scaled covering with his hands and
pulling it up and over his head and shoulders as one might skin off a
knitted garment. Now he stood facing Ross, wearing little more than the
Terran's swimming trunks.</p>
<p>Ross had dropped his belt and gill-pack. He moved into the circle the
crew had made. From above came a strong light, centering from a point on
the mainmast and giving him good sight of his opponent.</p>
<p>Vistur was being urged to make a quick end of the reckless challenger,
his supporters shouting directions and encouragement. But if the Rover
had confidence, he also possessed the more intelligent and valuable
trait of caution in the face of the unknown. He outweighed, apparently
outmatched Ross, but he did not rush in rashly as his backers wished him
to.</p>
<p>They circled, Ross studying every move of the Rover's muscles, every
slight fraction of change in the other's balance. There would be
something to telegraph an attack from the other. For he intended to
fight purely in defense.</p>
<p>The charge came at last as the crew grew impatient and yelled their
impatience to see the prisoner taught a lesson. But Ross did not believe
it was that which sent Vistur at him. The Hawaikan simply thought he
knew the best way to take the Terran.</p>
<p>Ross ducked so that a hammer blow merely grazed him. But the Terran's
stiffened hand swept sidewise in a judo chop. Vistur gave a whooping cry
and went to his knees and Ross swung again, sending the Rover flat to
the deck. It had been quick but not so vicious as it might have been.
The Terran had no desire to kill or even disable Vistur for more than a
few minutes. His victim would carry a couple of aching bruises and
perhaps a hearty respect for a new mode of fighting from this encounter.
He could have as easily been dead had either of those blows landed other
than where Ross chose to plant them.</p>
<p>"Ahhhh—"</p>
<p>The Terran swung around, setting his back to the foot of the mast. Had
he guessed wrong? With their chosen champion down, would the crew now
rush him? He had gambled on the element of fair play which existed in a
primitive Terran warrior society after a man-to-man challenge. But he
could be wrong. Ross waited, tense. Just let one of them pull a weapon,
and it could be his end.</p>
<p>Two of them were aiding Vistur to his feet. The Rover's breath whistled
in and out of him with that same whooping, and both of his hands rose
unsteadily to his chest. The majority of his fellows stared from him to
the slighter Terran as if unable to believe the evidence of their eyes.</p>
<p>Torgul gathered up from the deck the belt and gill-pack Ross had shed in
preparation for the fight. He turned the belt around over his forearm
until the empty knife sheath was uppermost. One of the crew came forward
and slammed back into its proper place the long diver's knife which had
been there when Ross was captured. Then the Rover offered belt and
gill-pack to Ross. The Terran relaxed. His gamble had paid off; by the
present signs he had won his freedom.</p>
<p>"And my swordsman?" As he buckled on the belt Ross nodded at Loketh
still lying bound where they had pushed him at the beginning of the
fight.</p>
<p>"He is sworn to you?" Torgul asked.</p>
<p>"He is."</p>
<p>"Loose the coast rat then," the Rover ordered. "Now—tell me, stranger,
what manner of man are you? Do you come from the Foanna, after all? You
have a magic which is not our magic, since the Stone of Phutka did not
reveal it on you. Are you from the Shades?"</p>
<p>His fingers moved in the same sign Loketh had once made before Karara.
Ross gave his chosen explanation.</p>
<p>"I am from the sea, Captain. As for the Foanna, they are no friend to
me, since they hold captive in their keep one who is my brother-kin."</p>
<p>Torgul stared him up and down. "You say you are from the sea. I have
been a Rover since I was able to stumble on my two feet across a deck,
after the manner and custom of my people, yet I have never seen your
like before. Perhaps your coming means ill to me and mine, but by the
Law of Battle, you have won your freedom on this ship. I swear to you,
however, stranger, that if ill comes from you, then the Law will not
hold, and you shall match your magic against the Strength of Phutka.
That you shall discover is another thing altogether."</p>
<p>"I will swear any oath you desire of me, Captain, that I have no ill
toward you and yours. There is only one wish I hold: to bring him whom I
seek out from the Foanna hold before they make him witches' meat."</p>
<p>"That will be a task worthy of any magic you may be able to summon,
stranger. We have tasted this night of the power of the sea gate. Though
we went in under the Will of Phutka, we were as weeds whirled about on
the waves. Who enters that gate must have more force than any we now
know."</p>
<p>"And you, too, then have a score to settle with the Foanna?"</p>
<p>"We have a score against the Foanna, or against their magic," Torgul
admitted. "Three ships—one island fairing—are gone as if they never
were! And those who went with them are of our fleet-clan. There is the
work of the Shadow stretching dark and heavy across the sea, new come
into these waters. But there remains nothing we can do this night. We
have been lucky to win to sea again. Now, stranger, what shall we do
with you? Or will you take to the sea again since you name it as home?"</p>
<p>"Not here," Ross countered swiftly. He must gain some idea of where they
might be in relation to the island, how far from its shore. Karara and
the dolphins—what had happened to them?</p>
<p>"You took no other prisoners?" Ross had to ask.</p>
<p>"There were more of you?" Torgul countered.</p>
<p>"Yes." No need to say how many, Ross decided.</p>
<p>"We saw no others. You ... all of you—" the Captain rounded on the
still-clustered crew, "get about your work! We must raise Kyn Add by
morning and report to the council."</p>
<p>He walked away and Ross, determined to learn all he could, followed him
into the stern cabin. Here again the Terran was faced with barbaric
splendor in carvings, hangings, a wealth of plate and furnishing not too
different from the display he had seen in the Wreckers' castle. As Ross
hesitated just within the doorway Torgul glanced back at him.</p>
<p>"You have your life and that of your man, stranger. Do not ask more of
me, unless you have that within your hands to enforce the asking."</p>
<p>"I want nothing, save to be returned to where you took me, Captain."</p>
<p>Torgul smiled grimly. "You are the sea, you yourself said that. The sea
is wide, but it is all one. Through it you must have your own paths.
Take any you choose. But I do not risk my ship again into what lies in
wait before the gates of the Foanna."</p>
<p>"Where do you go then, Captain?"</p>
<p>"To Kyn Add. You have your own choice, stranger—the sea or our
fairing."</p>
<p>There would be no way of changing the Rover's decision, Ross thought.
And even with the gill-pack he could not swim back to where he had been
taken. There were no guideposts in the sea. But a longer acquaintance
with Torgul might be helpful.</p>
<p>"Kyn Add then, Captain." He made the next move to prove equality and
establish himself with this Rover, seating himself at the table as one
who had the right to share the Captain's quarters.</p>
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