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. His throat tightened when the ring of spearpoints
closed in. He cast around desperately for the dagger. Back
among the crates of cloth the braided handle gleamed.
Sturm reached for it. ...
A rough hand grasped the hood of his cloak and hauled
him to his feet. "KOY ESK TA?" said the Kernaffi, laughing
in the boy's frightened face.
By the time Sturm was drag-marched to deck, the battle
was over. The Thelite sailors were bunched together by the
mast, on their knees and begging for mercy. Sheer numbers
of javelin-armed Kernaffi had forced Soren back to the
starboard rail. They pinned him there, spearpoints at his
throat. Soren's broken sword lay at his feet, as did a good
number of wounded Kernaffi.
Carin was weeping. Lady Ilys comforted her. There
was a scuffle on the poop deck. Two marines in conical
leather hats shoved old Captain Graff down to the main
deck.
"Who commands here? I demand to see yer captain!"
Graff said, rising to his feet.
"POLO KAMAY!" said the Kernaffi holding Sturm. All
eyes followed his glance.
Down a narrow boarding bridge came two
extraordinary figures. The first, in a gilded breastplate and
plumed helmet, was obviously the commander of the galley
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