Phryne caught her lip in her teeth to hold it steady. She could just see one man standing guard on deck while the others were breaking off chains in the rowers' pit. Could he see her in turn, if she--but if she lay still, he would find her at sunrise! Phryne inched to the ladder. Down, now. Moonlight fell on Tjorr, sprawled back against the weapon chest. His mouth was open and he was making private thunder in his nose. Phryne crouched beside him. He was too massive; her hands would not shake him enough. "Tjorr! Tjorr, it is mutiny!" she whispered. "Tjorr, wake up!" "What's that?" A ragged, half-frightened cry from the guard. Phryne saw him against the sky, peering about. "Uh," mumbled Tjorr. He swatted at her and rolled over. Phryne drew her knife. The guard shaded his eyes, staring forward. "Is somebody awake there?" he called. She put her mouth to the Alan's ear. "Wake, wake," she whispered. "You sleep yourself into Hades." A man's head rose over the hatch coaming. "Somebody's astir up there," chattered the sentry. "We'll go see," said the man. His burst-off chains swung from his wrists; it was the last mutiny all over again. How the gods must be laughing! Another followed him. Phryne recognized Quintus' ferret body. "Ummmm," said Tjorr and resumed his snoring. Phryne put her dagger point on a buttock and pushed. "_Draush-ni-tchaka-belog!_" The Sarmatian came to his feet with a howl. "What muck-swilling misbegotten son of--Oh!" His gaze wobbled to rest on the man running toward him. The hammer seemed to leap into his hand. "Up!" he bawled. "Up and fight!" Phryne dashed past him. Eodan still slept, she thought wildly; they could fall upon him unawares and kill him in his wife's arms. Behind her she heard a sound like a melon splitting open. "_Yuk-hai-saa-saa!_" chanted Tjorr. "You're next, Quintus!" The youth ran back, almost parallel to Phryne. Men were coming from the hatch, one after the other. He saw her and shrilled: "Get that one too! It's--" He broke off, swerved and plunged toward her in silence. Phryne put her foot on the gangway between the ships. It jerked back and forth as they rolled, and she heard ropes rubbing together. She must go all-fours over it or risk being thrown into the water between the hulls. She crouched. A hand closed on her ankle. She felt herself being yanked back on deck. Moonlight speared through darkness as she sat up. Quintus stood over her, grasping his saw. "Lie there," he said. "Lie there or I'll take your head off!" Phryne whipped to her knees and stabbed at his foot. He danced aside, laughing. The saw blade reached across her arm. It was no deep cut, but she cried out and dropped her knife. He kicked it away, grabbed her shoulder and hurled her onto her back. Kneeling beside her, he laid the saw teeth across her throat. "Be still, now, if you would live," he said. "I've business to finish with you."