“Pardon, Child of Wisdom, High-priestess of the Queen of Heaven, that once again, if only for a little while, I have put on the harness which I used to wear. It is done to save you, Child of Wisdom. It is done by command.”
“Aye,” said Noot, “it is the command of Her we serve that this priest should lift sword on behalf of Her and us, her slaves.”
I bowed my head, but answered—naught.
CHAPTER XII
The Sea Battle
The great Persian ship was on us. Strive as we would, we could not escape her. She raced upon our beam not a spear’s cast away. I stood upon the high poop of the Hapi and saw it all, for the old Arab blood was on fire in me, as it had been when I charged in the battle where my father fell, and I would play no woman’s part. Moreover, my spirit told me that I had not escaped from the hands of Tenes and out of the burning hell of Sidon, to die there upon the sea.
Standing thus upon the poop by the side of Philo the cunning captain, I noted this strange thing, that no arrow was shot and no spear thrown from the Persian’s decks. She raced alongside of us, that was all. I looked at Philo, a question in my eyes, and he answered the question briefly between his set lips.
“They think the King and Queen are aboard and would take us living. Hark! They shout to us to surrender.”
Again I looked at him, wondering what he would do.
He issued an order and presently our speed slackened so that we fell a little behind the Persian. He issued another order and we leapt forward again under a changed helm. Now I saw that he was minded to ram the Holy Fire. The Persian saw it also and sheered off. We ran alongside of her, shipping our oars as we came on that side which was nearest to her. But the Persian had no time to ship hers. Our sharp prow caught her fivefold line of sweeps, smashing the most of them as though they were but twigs, and casting the rowers in a broken, tumbled heap within her deep hold.
“That was worthy of Philo,” I said, but he, ever a humble man, as are all masters of their trade, shook his head and answered,