[Nuranar]

The afternoon heat swathed the North Wind in a sultry cocoon, intensified by the breath of steamy air that passed for a breeze. The sea was as calm as Calnan had ever seen it. Telson had lost both his apprehensive look and his licorice, at least for the time being. For the last hour the entire watch had been eyeing a bank of clouds off the starboard quarter. The haze could not disguise the straight lines of heavy rain joining it with the sea. Loliway strode stolidly up and down the deck, but even she glanced at it every few minutes. Calnan tried to imagine being drenched in cool water instead of his own salty sweat. Even a rainstorm couldn't make it more humid.

For a while the storm just lengthened along their starboard beam without seeming to approach. Suddenly it was noticeably closer . . . then closer . . . then with a rush, it was upon them. Several hands cheered. The chance storm, already dying, had not enough wind to blow about the big tropical raindrops. But even as it passed, it left enough air to fill the sagging sails and bring the North Wind to life.

"Sail ho!" A black-sailed sloop had emerged from the thinning curtain of rain, running not a thousand yards off their starboard quarter. Loliway started shouting orders, and as the crew exploded into action she took the wheel herself. "See her fore-and-aft rig, Mr. Telson?" she said to the Gondorian, who had already retrieved his sword. "With our ship rig we'll catch her. She has square sails, too, but we're too close for her to change them. She's ours. Lovely. Lovely!" she whispered fiercely, a grim, exultant smile curving her lips.

The chaos had increased since the last battle; too few men were having to do too many jobs. Calnan battled his way through the press, bow in his hand, quiver on his back, sword at his side. From his station he watched the corsair trying to change her course, even as she was crossing their bows. But with too little distance and speed, she was only able to parallel the quickly-gaining North Wind. Soon they brought their port side catapults into action.

"Sail ho!" The lookout's panic-stricken voice reached every ear. Avershire stared and swore violently. Another corsair, this one square-rigged, was on their starboard beam and closing awfully fast. Even as he cursed, the North Wind shuddered horribly with the impact of the corsair's first salvo.

The first sloop - Regal Dawn painted on her bow - was utterly demoralized, and scarcely able to return fire. The mates were already organizing their boarding parties. But the second corsair's deadly accuracy was speedily crippling the North Wind; aiming at both masts and side, she had taken away the main topgallant mast and holed her numerous places above and below the water line.

Avershire rushed up from inspecting the damage. "Meri, we're holed and taking water fast. We've got to take it!" he bellowed, pointing to the Regal Dawn.

"What about the other?" she yelled back. "It'll be on us in a minute!"

"Just take it! Talon!" he roared at the second mate. "Ready your party to follow Loliway! I want that ship taken as soon as possible!"

Calnan stood at the rail beside Marx, both in Loliway's party. He had been prepared to die himself, but for some reason he'd never thought of losing the North Wind. The gallant little sloop was home for him, far more than Umbar ever had been. He could feel her deck settling beneath his feet, down, down . . . where Sedal was working. Was Callath with him? And Devon, standing at the rail in the stern, grasping a short sword in his right hand. His white face was as stern as Calnan had ever seen it. Calnan's insides drew tight with a new fear.

"Now!" Screaming hoarsely, shrilly, furiously, the boarders swung across to the Regal Dawn. Marx pulled Calnan up from from a bone-jarring landing, just in time to see Devon leap the narrow gap and land poised on his feet. And then battle was joined in earnest, as each crew warred for mastery of the ship most likely to be afloat in an hour.