In moments, every available hand raced forward and began to drive the bow down, even as  Winds' rowers responded to the trierarch's crisp commands.

 

"Back us out!  Back us out!" he raged.  "Everything you've got now!"  His voice carried with it an overtone of anxiety I had never heard from him before. "Faster!" he implored.  "Faster!"

 

In the tight-knit ranks of marines on either side of me, I felt the beginning waverings of uncertainty..  Something wasn't right.  On the Cypriot, the enemy let loose a cheer and began to clamber over our bow.  They held their odd little wicker shields forward, and as their own archers laid down a withering hail of darts, they rushed to the attack.

 

"Advance as a unit, men!" commanded Patrocles eagerly. "Take them down!"

 

I could hear Hippocrotes growl as we locked shields and moved to cut down this impudent foe.

 

At that moment, a scream erupting on my left made me turn, startled.  Nocias, a tall, rangy hoplite whose family lived close by my own on the slopes of Mount Hymettus, was hit.  The barbed head of an arrow protruded from his neck, and as I turned, spurts of his blood nearly blinded me.  His gurgling gasps followed him to the deck as he collapsed in a heap.  Then his spear pitched forward and he rolled onto his shield, face up, eyes a paroxysm of pain and fear.  I turned further, sensing the obvious:  That arrow had not come from our front.

 

Yes.  There it was.  Another vessel had come alongside to larboard and was  nearly upon us.  With no intention of ramming, this Cypriot trireme had shattered our larboard oars and had laid alongside.  Before we could order a turn, a host of their number had exploded over the rail and advanced among us.

 

"Back, men!"  screamed Patrocles.  "Flank left!  Second rank, reform in line!"

 

But it was too late for maneuver.  Now it was hand-to-hand.  The enemy wielded huge axes which they used with deadly effect, smacking them down onto our upraised shields with terrifying force.  With Nocias' death, I had lost contact with the marines to my left.  The attack had come so suddenly, our line was pierced and broken.  I moved even closer to Hippocrotes, who had lost none of his comforting surety.

 

"Drive them out, Lysis!" he said.  "We'll take these ones in front-first."

 

Temporarily disoriented, I followed his lead, raising my spear high and striking viciously at the faces before me, the broad iron head slashing right through the flimsy shield of my target to find soft flesh underneath.  A piercing screech followed, and I could feel the shaft sag under the unsupported weight of the first man I had ever killed. 

 

There was no time to process the feeling.  There was no time for anything.  I wrenched the point free and struck again, this time missing my intended victim, who danced nimbly away to my right, only to be impaled by the descending stroke of Hippocrotes' bloodied weapon.

 

"Hah!" he said. "You keep feedin 'em to me, Lysis.  I'll clear these decks!"

 

Sure enough, the threat to our front had been routed;  those not killed had leapt into the sea.  But I could feel the battle to our rear getting desperate.  The second rank of marines had managed to turn and fight, briefly protecting our exposed backs, but now it was our turn to join the frenetic effort.