Matt nodded somberly, looking at Rick Tolson. «Revenge will make a quick search after dawn to see if any are adrift, disabled.»
«Aye, aye, Captain.»
«Don’t take too long, though. I want you back as soon as possible.» Tolson nodded. «Mr. Shinya, you will land three-quarters of the Marines and Guards at the dockyard. I’ll leave the choice of units to you, but I want you to reserve one-quarter of the force to demonstrate as if they’re going to land here» — he pointed at the map" across the river. Hopefully, we can keep the Grik reserves tied down, prepared to defend against a landing. The battle line will support that impression with a bombardment.» He paused. «The main force will assemble at the breastworks that join the castle walls to the beach.»
Most of those present were already familiar with the plan, but Lord Rolak leaned forward and peered at the map. «Why gather there?» he asked, puzzled. «It will take time to move your forces within the walls and through the city. Would it not be better to send them in as they arrive?»
«No, Lord Rolak,» Matt explained. «The Allied Expeditionary Force won’t be going inside.»
Shortly, after escorting the dignitaries and the battle line commanders to their boats and watching them scurry to their various commands to begin preparations, they returned to the wardroom. They didn’t have much time, but Matt was determined to know, at last, what had happened to Mahan and her people. Sandra and Bradford were present, as were Spanky, Gray, and Dowden. By now, the whole crew had heard the exciting news that ome are nohad settled upon the host, almost twenty-six hundred strong, as they gazed over the barrier and across the coastal plain. Matt and the Chief walked behind them, their shoes squelching in the ooze that had been churned in the damp sandy soil by the milling and marching of so many feet. Matt wished he had a horse to ride that would give him an elevated perspective not only of the events that were about to unfold but of the mood of «his» troops as well. It was hard to judge their feelings at that moment, with their inscrutably feline faces. But he’d learned to read Lemurian body language fairly well, and he’d learned to read much of the blinking they used instead of facial expressions.
Most were nervous, of course. Hell, he was nervous. But some few were blinking uncontrollably in abject terror. Most of those were surrounded and supported by steadier hearts, however, in a Lemurian way that Matt admired. But the vast majority of the troops poised for battle showed every sign of grim determination, if not outright eagerness. He nodded to himself. They would need all the eagerness, determination, and courage they could muster because across the marshy field before them lay the right flank of the Ancient Enemy.
The only sound was the flapping of the banners in the early-morning breeze. Each of the six regiments of infantry had its own new flag and most were emblazoned with some symbol that was important to the clan that dominated the regiment. The flags were Keje’s idea, and at his insistence each also bore the symbol of a tree. It was a sacred sign to all Lemurians and it gave them a unifying identity. It was also the symbol that the Grik themselves used to identify them and to Keje that made it even more appropriate. In the center of the line flowed a great, stainless white banner adorned with only a single stylized green and gold tree. Beside it, also borne by a Lemurian color guard, flew the Stars and Stripes. Keje told him that it was the first flag the People ever fought under, and beneath it they’d tasted victory. It was also the flag of their honored friends and allies, so of course it should be there. Matt felt a surge of pride at the sight of it and he wondered yet again at the irony that had placed it on the field that day.
Across the expanse, the Grik had finally noticed the force assembled on their flank and had begun to react. The mob of warriors facing them swelled, as more were shifted from other parts of the line and others came slowly from across the river on barges. There was no help for it. They had known it would happen before they were ready to strike. Sneak attacks are all but impossible when armies have to assemble and move everywhere they go on foot, not to mention within plain sight of each other. Perhaps their tactics would be surprise enough. Whatever the Grik thought, though, it didn’t look like they intended to let this «diversion» take their attention from what they saw as their main objective: the city beyond the wall.
Horns sounded a deep, harsh, vibratory hum and thousands of voices took up an eerie, hissing chant that sounded like some creature being fried alive in a skillet. Accompanying the chant, thousands of swords and spears clashed against their small round shields and the staccato beat built to a deafening crescendo.
«It’s even more terrifying on land than sea,» admitted a voice beside him. Matt turned to see Keje standing there, resplendent in his polished copper mail. His helmet visor was low over his eyes. «At sea, the noise is muted by wind and distance.»
«What are you doing here?» Matt demanded.
Keje grinned. «What a question to ask! I would ask the same of you if I thought I would get a different answer. Adar commands the battle line in my stead,» Keje assured him. nF Z «He knows what to do and he will be obeyed.»
With a great seething roar, the Grik horde surged toward Aryaal, waving their weapons over their heads and jostling one another to be in the vanguard. The beginning of the attack must have been plainly visible to the lookouts high above the decks of the Homes in the bay. Most of the Grik directly across the quarter mile of soft ground from the AEF didn’t join in the charge, but continued to face them, securing the flank. Even at the distance, it was clear they were unhappy with the task and a steady trickle was bleeding away to join the assault.
«Now would be about right for him to give the order,» Matt said of Adar. As if somehow the Sky Priest heard his quiet words, a bright flash and a white cloud of smoke erupted from Big Sal’s side, followed immediately by four more. The heavy, booming report of the big guns reached them a moment later, and by then the sides of all the ships of the battle line were enveloped in fire and smoke. The canvas-tearing shriek of the heavy shot reached their ears, and seconds later huge geysers of mud and debris rocketed upward from the midst of the Grik reserve across the river. Matt watched through his binoculars as troops swarmed over the bulwarks of the big ships and crowded into boats alongside. The guns continued to hammer away, each one sending a thirty-two-pound solid copper ball into the enemy camp. The balls shredded the densely packed bodies and destroyed the tents and makeshift dwellings as they struck and bounded and skated through, unstoppable, to kill again and again.
One of Lord Rolak’s aides, left as a liaison, vaulted to the top of one of the brontosaurus-like creatures that had been on the waterfront when they arrived. This particular specimen had bronze greaves on its legs and wore polished bronze plates over its vitals. Besides being beasts of burden, the ridiculous brutes apparently served as Aryaalan warhorses. Matt had noticed the thing when he came ashore, but it never even occurred to him that anyone would try to ride one of the amazingly stupid animals into battle. Now he self-consciously reached up and grabbed the aide’s outstretched hand and allowed the powerful Aryaalan to help him swing onto the dinosaur’s back. He took a moment to secure himself to the rock-steady platform and then quickly raised the binoculars again.