There had been nothing to see but water for many hours. The wind dropped till the sail hung half empty; the creaking oars rubbed men's nerves. As noon passed it grew hotter, until the crew shed their clothes. Eodan kept his tunic. Hwicca came from her cabin and sat in its shade, alone, but he did not go to her. The sun was so brazen off the sea that the other galley had come well over the horizon before the lookout cried its presence. It was also eastbound. Eodan grew tense. "Stand by to come about!" he said. "Row down there, you clotheads!" bellowed Tjorr. "You may be rowing to your fortunes!" Eodan took the steering oar himself. It was maddeningly slow, the way they crept over miles. He thought, once, that if he built himself a galley in the North it would not be so heavy and round as these--yes, open decks, so a man could pull his oar beneath the sky.... "She's a big one," said Demetrios. "Too big for the likes of you." Sweat glistened on his nose; his eyes rolled in unease. Eodan felt the old captain was right. The ship he neared had half again the length of his, and its freeboard towered over his deck. Nonetheless, it had no ram, no war engines at all that he could see, though he only knew such by description. And he had eaten too much rage the last few days. It must out somehow. "We will go nearer," he said. "We have decided nothing yet." "We'll decide to slink off again, that's what we'll do," muttered Quintus, down on the main deck. "A coward as well as a tyrant, that's our skipper." One or two nodded furtively. Still they edged closer. The captain of the other galley hailed: "Ho, there! This is the _Bona Dea_ of Puteoli, bound for Miletus with a cargo of wine! Who are you?" Eodan repeated his old lie. "Well," replied the stranger, "give us some sea room, then." "I sail where I please!" yelled Eodan. "Come closer and I'll think you're a pirate." "Think what you want!" The ships converged. Eodan waited, coldly, until he heard the alarms and the running feet. Then he gave a crewman the steering oar, ran to the shrouds and swarmed to the crow's-nest. He was high enough and close enough now to look down upon the other deck. He counted the sailors as they scurried about getting their weapons from the captain. Fifteen. And, with himself, this one still carried sixteen! Of course, that meant he would have to arm all his rowers, but--He threw a leg around the mast and slid down, shouting, "_Hau-hau-hau!_ Break out the blades!" The men on deck roared. Tjorr had to knock one over-eager rower back down the hatch before the oars would move again. Eodan called two men to him, pointing out Flavius and Demetrios. "Bind them," he said. Flavius held out his wrists. "Are you afraid we two will attack your gang from the rear?" he asked mildly. "I would not trust you with the women," said Eodan. He slipped Demetrios' helmet pad on his head. The helmet itself followed. O wild war-gods, he bore a helmet once more!