In no long time the dead were flung out, and the boats pushed down until they were afloat. Brian leaped into one, Cathbarr into another, and men piled in after them until the craft were almost awash.
An eddy in the veil of smoke that hung over the bay showed Brian that Lame Art's ship had grappled with that of O'Donnell, and with renewed confidence thrilling in him, he shouted to his men to get aboard the O'Malley ship. The Bertragh cannon had ceased to thunder as the ships came together, but from the ships balls were hailing, musketry was crackling, and the water was tearing into spurting jets around the boats.
Brian's men fell to their oars in sorry fashion enough, but they made up in energy what they lacked in skill. Driving past Nuala's ship, Brian saw that she had also grappled and that the battle was raging over her bulwarks, but sorely tempted to turn aside though he was, he waved his men on.
They rowed close under the ship to which she was fastened, and as they sped past the O'Donnells saw them, and gave them a scattering volley. One or two of Brian's men went down, and a cry broke from him as he saw a round shot heaved over into his third boat, sinking her; then they were past, and bearing down on Art Bocagh's ship.
"Tyr-owen for O'Malley!"
Cathbarr's bellow rose over the tumult, and his boat crashed into the waist of the ship just as Brian leaped up into the mizzen-chains. His feet gained hold on a triced-up port, and as he looked down he saw a swell heave up the two boats, then bring them down together with a splintering smash.
The result was dire confusion. None of the men were seamen, but some of them gained the side of Brian, others scrambled in through the ports, and more than one of them fell short and went down. Standing in the sinking boat with the water swirling about his ankles, Cathbarr caught up his ax and leaped; a moment later Brian was over the bulwarks with the giant at his side, and the O'Malleys welcomed them with a yell of joy.
They were badly needed, indeed. The Dark Master had led his men in furious onslaught across the waist of the ship, and Art Bocagh was being beaten back to the poop despite his stubborn resistance. Brian saw that the Dark Master's men far outnumbered Art's, while from the rigging of each ship musketeers were sending down bullets into the mêlée. With a shout, Brian and Cathbarr led their men on the O'Donnell flank, and the tide of battle turned.
At the first instant the rush of men bore Brian against the Dark Master, who was fighting like a demon. Brian caught the snarl on the other's pallid face, and struck savagely; O'Donnell parried the blow with his skean and returned it, but Brian warded with his left arm and swept down his blade. The Dark Master flung himself back, but not far enough, and Brian saw the point rip open the pallid cheek. Even as he pressed his advantage, however, another surge of men separated them.
Now Brian gave over every thought save that of reaching his enemy again, and fell on the O'Donnells with stark madness in his face. A pistol roared into his stubbly beard and the ball carried off his steel cap, but he cut down the man and pressed into the midst of the pirates, cutting and thrusting in terrible rage.