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stories of Mute magic had been discounted, but he had now seen evidence

of it with his own eyes! Already one wheel-boat with a noted commander

and carrying many of his own comrades had gone down in Lake Mi-shiga.

He did not propose to be on board the second.

Mitsunari did not fear death, but as a samurai his whole life had been

geared to one end: to die in the heat of battle on behalf of his

domain-lord. Drowning - even in the line of duty - was a quite ignoble

way of departing from this life. He asked Captain Umigami to alter the

ship's heading fifteen degrees to starboard. The bow of the wheel-boat

was now aimed at the long upper sand-bar, but the approach angle was

much shallower, allowing the cannon mounted in the port side galleries

to brought to bear against the retreating column.

M'Call elder Rolling-Stone had seen the wheel-boats discharge their

cannon in a ceremonial salute but he had never seen them fire in

anger.

Others, in the early days before the Mute clans agreed to trade with

the Iron Masters, had been given a practical demonstration. Being in

the target area of a broadside from one of these vessels had proved an

unforgettable learning experience and the news had been passed on.

But this was not the only new threat. To the She-Kargo's rear, the

deadly pursuit had not slackened and now, as the middle and rear

segments of their straggling formation headed towards the channel, they

came under fire from the first of the D'Troit bowmen to reach the spur

of land jutting out from the western side of the lagoon. Volley after

volley of crossbow bolts flew across the four hundred yard stretch of

water, cutting down warriors right, left and centre.

Rolling-Stone and Mack-Truck urged the last of their clansmen into the

channel then turned to greet Dark-Star D'Mingo. His escort - two giant

M'Waukee warriors had hoisted him up by his armpits, leaving his

flailing legs barely touching the ground.

They set him down in front of Rolling-Stone. He crumpled like an empty

sack then straightened up. 'I know, I know, I know. They weren't

supposed to pick me up. But don't be angry at them. They are my

sons."

He quickly embraced them both then turned his eyes skywards. 'Bless

you, Sweet Sky-Mother, for the loan of two strong arms!" He turned

back to his sons. 'Right! Off you go! I've got work to do!" The two

young warriors paused uncertainly. Dark-Star shoved them into the

water. 'Go on! Get moving!" His sons raised their hands in a

farewell salute then ran on and were lost in the clouds of spray raised

by the other fleeing warriors.

Dark-Star crouched at the water's edge between Mack-Truck and

Rolling-Stone as hundreds of warriors sprinted past. Muscled thighs

lifting and driving their flying feet, pounding the water to foam as

they passed across to the other side. Foam that was already tinted

with the blood of those slain by the bowmen on the nearby spur.

'Are you out of your mind?!" exclaimed Rolling-Stone.

'Go after them!" 'Pwwahhh! I've done enough running for one day!"

'So have I,' admitted Mack-Truck. 'There's no way I'm ever going to

make it to the top of that bluff."

Rolling-Stone eyed the distant high ground that overlooked the seven

mile-long sandbar their warriors had to cover before they reached

safety. The neither..."

'Better make ourselves useful then,' said Dark-Star.

Running back and forth across the curved point of the sand-bar he

recruited two of his earlier colleagues as they stumbled to the water's

edge and ordered Rolling-Stone and Mack-Truck to arm their crossbows

and gather as many bolts as they could from warriors who had fallen to

the incoming fire from the nearby spur.

Working their way through the dune grass on the lagoon side of the

sand-bar, they came opposite the point where the D'Troit bowmen were

massed. Dark-Star turned to his two colleagues. 'I know it's asking a

lot but I want you to raise some more wh