Even then they continued to fire, without nearly as great an effect at the increased range, but with just as much determination. The surviving Grik that could began to flee. At least half the enemy’s fleet of forty ships had been destroyed, and most of those remaining afloat were damaged to varying degrees. Matt was tempted to allow Walker’s main battery to continue firing, but he knew he had to conserve ammunition. This was but the opening stroke, and he inwardly cringed at his expectation of what they had expended.
«Cease firing,» he said, but the guns had already fallen silent, probably at Garrett’s command. After the noise and turmoil of battle, his voice sounded strange. disassociated. He glanced at his watch and experienced the usual sense of disorientation when he realized the seemingly hours-long battle had lasted less than forty minutes. The rest of the fleet’s cannonade became more desultory as the remaining targets drew away, and a great tide of cheering voices from thousands of throats rose and washed over him.
Larry Dowden appeared at his side. He’d been at his battle station on the aft deckhouse and was black with soot and sweat from the fire that came too close. He stood with Matt and stared at the scene of destruction as the roar of exultation continued. «Even better than Balikpapan. in the old war,» he finally managed. His voice held a trace of wonder. Matt nodded. The enormity of the victory was beginning to sink in. «This even feels better,» Dowden continued. «God knows I hate the Japs. except Shinya, I guess, but he’s the proof. At least Japs are people. This feels more like. killing snakes.»
«What is it, Mr. Garrett?»
«Listen, sir,» he said, almost shouting, and pointed at the city. Matt turned back toward shore and strained his ears to hear over the cheering. He couldn’t imagine what it was that Garrett wanted him to hear over — then it hit him. The cheering of the fleet wasn’t just echoing off the walls of the city, it was being answered from within! Even at this distance, and in the dark, he saw hundreds of figures standing on the walls, waving banners and weapons in triumph and shouting their defiance to the massive Grik army encamped outside their walls. From that army there came only a shocked, sullen silence.
Matt clasped his hands behind his back and strained to keep his relief in check. Underlying all the concerns he’d felt over the meeting with the Grik had been not knowing how the people here would receive them. They’d still have to guard against friction, but for now. «It seems the Aryaalans are glad to see us after all, wouldn’t you say, Mr.
Dowden?» His statement was met with a few hopeful chuckles.
«Captain!» cried the talker, who’d come as close as his cord would allow. «Lookout says there’s a small boat coming up to starboard!»
Matt heard the bolt rack back on the.30-cal above his head. «Hold your fire!» he shouted, looking up. «Mr. Garrett, inform all stations to hold fire!» He turned and peered into the darkness that lay between them and the shore. The blazing wrecks threw a lot of light on the fleet and the fortress, but the space between them was in shadow, cast by the battle line. Even so, he saw what looked like a barge approaching from landward. It was about thirty feet long and broad in the beam. There were six banks of oars on each side and they rose and dipped with admirable precision. «Get Chack up here, on the double,» he said, glancing forward. In less than twenty seconds, Chack and Chief Gray were both beside him. Matt was looking through his binoculars and when he noticed their arrival, he handed the glasses to Chack. «What do you make of them?» Chack looked through the binoculars, mainly because he liked to. He didn’t really need them to see who was approaching.
«Aryaalans, Captain,» he said simply. Then he looked at Matt, inscrutable and expressionless as always, but he was blinking a sequence reserved for surprise. Intense surprise. «And others.»
Matt had started to turn and issue an order, but stopped and looked back at Chack. «What do you.? Just a moment.» He did turn then. «Signal the fleet ‘Well done’ and compliments. Also, all battle line captains please report aboard Walker. They can send a representative if they have damage or other pressing concerns.» His gaze returned to Chack. «What were you saying?»
Chack wordlessly handed the binoculars back. Slightly annoyed, Matt raised them once more. The boat was much closer now, and even as he looked, he heard several exclamations of surprise from some of those crowding with him on the bridgewing.
The first thing he noticed was the Aryaalans themselves. He was struck by how different they appeared from the Lemurians he was used to. Counting the rowers, there were sixteen or seventeen of them on the barge, and almost all of them had dark-colored pelts. It was impossible in the dim light to tell exactly what color they were, but he had an impression of sable. That was unusual enough, since no two Lemurians he’d met were precisely the same color. And yet the differences didn’t end there. The People they’d grown accustomed to — Spanky’s efforts notwithstanding — wore as lians he re of Mahan’s tale. Judging by the appearance of Ellis and Steele, it had been a hard one. Both men’s uniforms were badly stained and battered, and a dreadful experience of some sort seemed to haunt their eyes. Jim still limped too, and Matt remembered that Captain Kaufman had shot his friend. He returned his attention to Lord Rolak, who was speaking.
«They will certainly attack at dawn.» Keje translated for him. «They attack most days, but after tonight.» He shrugged in a very human way. «They will certainly come and I doubt they will stop this time. I propose that your» — the Aryaalan lord actually sneered slightly» warriors join ours in the defensive positions. They should take direction from our captains, of course.»
Matt suddenly found all of his commanders’ eyes on him as Keje told him what Lord Rolak had said. He answered their unspoken question with a single word.
«No.»
For just a moment, after Keje relayed the response, there was an uncomfortable silence. Prince Rasik finally spoke up. «This. creature speaks for you all?»
Keje grunted and answered in an ominous tone. «He does. He not only speaks for us, he commands us for the duration of this campaign.» He gestured angrily toward the porthole. «In case you did not notice, we swept your little bay clear for you this night. He was the architect of that.»
Lord Rolak shifted, and visibly regrouped his argument. «Your victory tonight was impressive,» he hedged, «but you are sea folk. Surely you see the wisdom of letting land folk lead when a fight is on land. Aryaalans are a warrior race. The warrior’s way is bred into us and nurtured in us as younglings. You sea folk do not even fight unless you have to! We have the experience.!»
«It seems to me that you were about to experience defeat, Lord Rolak,» Bradford interrupted quietly. «What is your estimate of the forces arrayed against you?»
Rolak was quiet for a moment as he looked around the table. Finally he sighed. «There are, perhaps, fifteen thousands of the enemy.» Matt nodded when the translation came. That was consistent with Mallory’s estimate of the enemy force.
«How many warriors do you have to face them?» Matt brutally cut to the heart of the matter. If the Grik truly were going to attack at dawn, there was no time for this foolishness. Rolak answered him in a slightly more subdued tone.
«King Alcas has twenty-four hundred warriors in the city, fit for battle. Queen Maraan from B’mbaado Island across the water has sent another six hundreds to our aid.»
«She should have sent more!» seethed the young prince, speaking for the second time since his introduction.
Rolak looked at him. «We are lucky she sent anything at all! Do you forget we were at war with her before the Grik came?» Rolak shrugged again and glanced at the others around the table. «War is a. pastime. among my people. That is why we are so good at it.» He paused and his tone subtly changed. «It is different this time. The Grik do not follow the rules. They do not have rules. No truce is accepted. There is no parley, no discussion of aims or demands, and. no respect for the dead.» His tail swished and he blinked outrage. «They eat fallen warriors, you know, whenever we cannot recover them. Sometimes they even stop fighting long enough to feed…» Quickly controlling himself, ize="3» >«Most are accounted for, but some are not. I fear we must assume they were lost breaking through the Grik.»