The crew, laying their weapons by them, prepared to give way. The oars were poised, the drummer began the battle beat, and forty white blades swept back and then down into the dark blue sea. Back and forth, back and forth, the sea creaming under the blades as they dipped in perfect time, sparkling ropes of water spiralling from them as they rose, the men chanting in unison as the ship turned and gathered speed, straight at the leader of the Achaean flotilla.

The three Achaeans quickened their own pace and spread apart, the middle vessel ready to counter the beaked bow of the Cretan, the others taking position to run alongside and board. Hero got Aito’s permission to join the archers and ran to the bows, where the handful of archers made room for her. She tucked her hair under her helmet and gazed at the approaching ships, their oars rising and falling like the wings of sea eagles, the eyes painted on their bows glaring fiercely into hers. She glared back unwaveringly as if she could make the Achaean ships face down, the cold thrill of impending battle rising within her as it had in her girlhood. Then fire spread through her veins and she threw back her head and drank in the salt-scented air. All tension left her limbs and shoulders and she knew she was ready for battle. At last she had an opportunity to redeem herself and expunge from her heart the disgrace of capture ten years earlier.

“Are you really an Amazon?” asked the youngest archer, a boy of fourteen or so, as he gazed up at her. “I thought they were just a story. How tall are you?”

“Tall enough to fight,” said Hero, gauging the distance to the leading Achaean. “Have you been in battle before, lad?”

“No,” said the boy. He was trembling, but trying to conceal it.

“Got any tips?” asked one of the older men.

“For you or the boy?” responded Hero. “Shoot like me. That’s the only tip I can give you right now, for here they come within range. Let me take the steersman, and - are you the master bowman? Will you take stroke oar?”

“I will, lass. But there’s the drummer too.”

“Leave him to me,” said a thin, quiet bowman, “and the other lads can cover us.”

It was wonderful how the archers accepted the leadership of the young Amazon. They recognised a mistress of the bow and a skilled swordswoman, and they immediately took to her as one of themselves. The six stood in line, feet braced, left shoulders to the target, bowstrings fully drawn with arrows to cheek as the Achaean ships closed. The leading ship increased her speed, the bow wave silvering over the stout beak, the painted eyes staring straight into their own. The other two ships, which had no beaks, hung back a little, ready to sweep in and board after the first shock.

The Achaean steersman and his Cretan counterpart knew their business. Each held his course straight for the other, prow against prow. It was a battle of nerves, for the first to deviate by even a trifle would expose the vulnerable bow quarter to the other’s beak. Bow to bow the ships closed, the chanting of the Cretan oarsmen blending with the deep-throated roar coming from the Achaean galleys. Aboard the leading Achaean the huge drummer was pounding out the stroke, quicker and quicker as they attained ramming speed. A crowd of Achaeans filled the foredeck, the harsh glitter of iron swords visible here and there among the duller gleam of the bronze blades, axeheads and spears. Behind Hero, all available fighting men were also ready, some with stone throwing-hammers, most with bronze spears or the labrys, the terrible double axe, one or two armed, like Hero, with good iron swords.

Closer, closer, with her bow wave rising higher, the Achaean vessel raced onward. She stood slightly taller than the Sea Snake, but the press of men in the Achaean’s bows had lowered them so that the Cretan archers could see the entire deck of their enemy. The oarsmen were not covered by an overdeck, but it was still a difficult shot against a moving target and from a moving deck.

Three bows sang, three shafts sped. Two missed their targets, but the Achaean steersman staggered backwards with Hero’s arrow through his chest. He released the steering oar as he fell dying, and the Achaean ship altered course a fraction, exposing her starboard side to the Cretan beak. The master bowman quickly nocked another arrow while the three men covering loosed their own arrows, all of which missed. The thin archer drew again with the master bowman and Hero drew her second arrow. Again three shafts sped away. This time the drum ceased as the arrow meant for the drummer pierced it instead. Stroke oar slumped dead on his bench with an arrow in the back, and Hero’s arrow struck down the man who tried to take over the steering oar. Half a dozen port side oars clashed as the stroke oar ceased and the Achaean ship failed to recover her course. The Sea Snake headed straight for the unprotected starboard bow of the Achaean.

The other three bowmen loosed, and three men hanging eagerly over the prow of the Achaean ship fell into the sea. The boy archer yelped with glee. Only Hero sent off another shaft, which struck down a glittering officer. The other archers grabbed the rails as the ships struck.

Hero, unprepared, was hurled to the deck, her bow still in her grasp as she clashed into the scuppers. Two or three of the men on deck fell with her, and the ships gave an agonised groan as the Cretan beak pierced the timbers of the Achaean. The Achaean rolled away from the Cretan, almost onto her beam, men tumbling from her deck into the sea, while the roll heaved the smaller Cretan vessel high out of the water, so that Hero and the others slid back along the foredeck. Then the Sea Snake tore herself free with a great rending of enemy timbers, the beak withdrawing and the oars rapidly backing under the thump of the drum. The Achaean rolled towards the Sea Snake, and one or two foolhardy souls managed to scramble aboard the Cretan. They were hacked down in seconds. Hero regained her footing, her sword hissing from its scabbard, her bow flung into the scuppers as the second Achaean ran hard alongside to starboard and the entire crew swarmed aboard the Sea Snake.

The Cretan oarsmen rose to meet them, axes swinging, spears flying, swords clashing against armour. A great roar rose from the fighting crews, Hero’s clear voice rising above it as she rallied the archers on the foredeck. They ran up the companion way to the overdeck and threw back the first rush of Achaeans along it, then there was an insane melee of slashing, stabbing men. The archers fought stubbornly, forming a line the width of the deck and hacking with their bronze axes, but suddenly they found themselves up against a force of Achaeans armed with iron blades. Hero cut her way into that fight with a ferocious and prolonged Amazon war cry. For a moment the blood-curdling battle cry stopped the fighting near her and she took the opportunity to lead a rush along the deck. But only three of the archers were left, the thin quiet man, the master bowman, and the boy. All were bleeding, including Hero who had taken a gash on the arm.

Some of the Cretan crew fought their way to Hero and formed a wedge of determined fighters. Steadily they began to beat the Achaeans back, more of their mates fighting their way towards them. But now came a shuddering blow on the port side, a ship’s afterdeck towered overhead, and a howling army of Achaeans leapt aboard. The third ship had picked up the crew of the stricken galley and joined the fight.

Hero’s band was beaten back to the foredeck companion way. Spears, axes and arrows sliced into them, and men began to fall. Hero looked about desperately. If they retreated down to the foredeck they would be trapped, for there were Achaeans below on the main deck. There was nothing for it but to die gloriously, as an Amazon should. At least there would be no more shame of capture and further slavery.

“Come on!” she yelled, and with another chilling war cry led a charge into the thick of the fight. Two or three slashes, a parry, a deadly thrust, and then a thrown hammer struck her helmet and she fell. As she lost consciousness and the fear of death entered her mind, she was aware of another shock and loud cheering.