She had her white sail already hoisted and was rapidly overhauling us. No one aboard our vessel had any doubt that our pursuer was a pirate�who else would chase a Phoenician merchant in such a fashion? The men on the stranger's deck, already almost within the range of voice, were yelling something to us across the water, but with the wind and the crash of waves against our prow, we could not hear. In any case it could hardly be anything but a demand for surrender. Squinting into the sun, I was able to make out that the lines of our pursuer's hull, and of her sail, strongly resembled those of an Athenian warship. In the circumstances I did not find that reassuring. Meanwhile our own crew, experienced sailors and fighters all, were no trembling cowards in this situation. In obedience to Kena'ani's shouted commands, they were preparing as best they could to fight, and at the same time trying to get more speed out of our own vessel. The time elapsed since my landing on the deck of the merchant had been so brief that I had not even started to remove my wings.
