Phryne and Hwicca faced the Roman's companions. The men grinned and walked in at their leisure. Phryne tried to dart aside, but the spearman thrust his shaft between her legs. She fell, and her mind seemed to burst. When she regained herself, she was prodded erect. "Over there," said the man. "Stand against the cabin wall. That's the way." He held his pike close to her breasts, ready to drive it home. Hwicca, a long knife in her hand, circled about with the axman. She spat at him, wildcatlike. Once she tried to rush in with a stab, but his weapon yelled down and she saved herself by falling. He tried to strike again, but she got away too swiftly. And Eodan and Flavius fought across the deck and back, sword on shield, the Roman boring in behind his shelter and the Cimbrian holding him off with sheer battering force. A bloody, tattered giant loomed over the rail of the other galley. Tjorr sheathed his sword in one final man, who tumbled down between the hulls. The Alan jumped onto the gangway. The man who was guarding Phryne saw him coming. "I must deal with him," he said, not unkindly. "Farewell, girl. We'll meet beyond the Styx." He drew back his pike. Phryne had no more will or strength to dodge. She waited. Tjorr stopped on the middle of the gangplank, braced his legs and whirled the hammer. Phryne did not see it fly; she only saw the pikeman's eyes bulge out, and when he toppled she saw his head broken open. Her knees deserted her; she sank to the deck and stared emptily at all else. Tjorr bounded down, fell upon the axman from behind and wrenched the weapon loose. The axman kicked with a shod foot. Tjorr bellowed wrath and pain, dropped the ax and was caught in a wrestler's grip. He and the sailor went down on the deck like a pair of dogs. Hwicca sped toward Eodan. She called out something--Phryne did not know the rough word, but surely no voice had ever held more love. As Eodan's gaze shifted toward her, Flavius stepped in close and brought the upper edge of his shield beneath Eodan's jaw. The Cimbrian lurched back, and his sword clattered from his hand. He leaned his back against the rail and shook his head like a stunned bull. Flavius poised his blade. Hwicca flung herself across Eodan's body--and the sword struck home. Flavius stared stupidly as she went to her knees. Eodan caught her and eased her to the deck. He did not seem aware of the Roman any longer. Tjorr broke his opponent's neck, picked up the fallen ax and thundered toward Flavius. The Roman bounded away, up onto the gangplank. He reached the other ship and faced back; but he was masked by shadow. Tjorr paused at the plank's foot, saw spears bristle and stayed where he was. His ax chopped and the plank's ropes parted. Now it dangled free from the higher bulwark. Tjorr ran along the rail, cleaving lines. A few arrows fell near him as he cranked the anchor windlass. The gale caught the two ships and drove them apart.