>>5749907>>5749912>>5749933>Nikon successfully dodges! The pirates charging you, unlike the well-groomed men above, are scrawny and ragged - you immediately classify them as vermin, hardly posing a legitimate threat to you. You delay your shouted orders to the Salaminians, lumbering backwards heavily, stepping over a row of benches - nimble enough for a man of your size, the motion puts you safely outside the reach of their smaller javelins. Leaping wildly, the scruffy pair of raiders before you jab at the empty air a cubit in front of your chest and face. They are off-balanced, squinting against the sun-light, wobbling on the deck in between undisciplined thrusts. You conclude that they are probably half-drunk on stolen wine, given their wild hoots of exclamation - they are apparently undaunted by their completely ineffectual attack on yourself.
The boarding rush by the Salaminians is successful - already, wounds have blossomed behind the leather jerkins of Kyrtios' crew, although none of the pirates fall to Salaminian bronze. They are tougher, leaner, harder than the vagrants you had faced earlier in the day - they hold fast against the disciplined thrusts delivered by the men of Salamis. Teukros and Castor, once again elevated on the galley stern and fore-decks, take their archer's fee against the pirates - two arrows sprouting from the thigh and neck of two pirates on the flanks of the enemy phalanx.
Pollux is a blur, knocking aside shields and spears, prying apart the bow-end of the enemy shield-wall with ferocity and vigor - he lances through the heart of a pirate in one moment, and then spits his companion through the liver before the first falls. You're beginning to be envious of his spear-play and control...
>cont 