"But you are wounded," said his aide.
"Of course, you fool," said Aemilianus, angrily. "What do you think? Do you think I would have given an order I would not be willing, under similar circumstances, to obey? My body, as it is wounded, will serve as a shield in the fighting. It is all that it is good for now."
"We need Aemilianus, our commander," said a man, "not a body for a shield." Aemilianus tried, angrily, to rise to his feet.
At the same time, from beneath the bandage bound about his body there emerged a bright, fresh stain of crimson.
Aemilianus sank back to a sitting position. "Surilius," said he. "The sword, use it now. Then there will be no more quibbling about bodies and shields." "No, Commander," said he.
"I have never known you to refuse an order," said Aemilianus, puzzled. "If there must be a body for a shield, use mine, instead," he said. He drew his own sword.
"No, old friend," begged Aemilianus.
He called Surilius stood ready to pierce his own heart with his sword.
"You," said Aemilianus, lifting his hand to me. "Strike me with your sword." "I am weary," I said.
"Draw my own sword," he begged. "Hold it, that I may throw myself upon it." "No," I said. "No?" said Aemilianus.
"I am not of Ar's Station," I said. "Do not presume to command one who has no fondness for either Ar or Ar's Station."
"But you have fought for us!" said Aemilianus.
"I saw things that did not please me," I said, "and I have fought, but so, too, might a tarn fly and a kaiila run."
Men shuddered. Warriors, it is said in the codes, have a common Home Stone. Its name is battle.
"Your word, Surilius," protested Aemilianus, turning again to the aide, his friend.
"My word is sacred to me," said Surilius, "but so, too, are the terms of my word, and they require only that I do not permit you to fall, when you yourself could not avoid it, into the hands of Cosians. Then, but then only, am I prepared to strike."
"You are a good soldier," said Aemilianus. "I beg your forgiveness, my friend." He then grimaced. Fresh blood appeared again beneath the bandage, running to his waist.
"Let him rest," I said.
A fellow lowered Aemilianus to the boards, amidst the feet about him.
Aemilianus lifted his hand to his friend.
"I will be at your side," said Surilius.
"They are coming," said a fellow. "There must be a hundred rafts and boats, from both sides."
"It will not be long now, will it, dear friend," said Aemilianus.
"No, dear friend," said Surilius. "I do not think it will be long now." "Look off there," said a fellow, pointing toward the harbor. "I did not know they had so many ships."
"What!" I said.
"There," said the man pointing, out toward the river.
I could see, out beyond the wall of chained rafts, opened now in three places, a flotilla of sails, long and low, triangular, sloping, those of lateen-rigged galleys.
"They are coming for the kill," said a man.
"Where is a glass," I cried, "a builder's glass, a glass of the builders!" Even as we watched we saw the sail of the first ship furled to its sloping yard and the yard swung, parallel to the keel, and lowered. In a moment the mast, too, had been lifted, and lowered. The other ships followed suit. The hair on the back of my neck rose. These are preparations of galleys for entering battle. They would not be under oar power along. It was hard now to even see the ships at the distance. Those were not round ships. They were long ships, ramships. They were shallow drafted, low, like knives in the water.
"Bring me a glass!" I cried.
"A glass!" called more than one man.
"One of the ships of Cos is putting about," said a man.
"I do not understand," said another.
"See them come," said another fellow.
"How many are there?" said another.
"Where could Cos find such ships?" asked another.
"The Cosians on the rafts and boats are approaching," said another. "In a moment they will open fire."
We saw a tarnsman streaking by, coming from the direction of the river, in flight over the piers, speeding toward the landing, or the citadel.
"Shields to the edges of the piers!" called out Sirilius. He had drawn his sword.
Women and children huddled toward the center of the piers, crouching down. Many of the women had their heads down, clutching children, shielding them with their own bodies. There was very little noise.
"Here is a glass," said a fellow. I lifted the apparatus to my eye. In a moment or two I had adjusted it, and had it trained on the flagship of the approaching flotilla. I sought the flag tugging and snapping on the stem line, run between the bow and the stem castle. Then I lowered the glass, closing it.
"What are their colors?" asked a man.
"It is the blue of Cos," I said.
I saw Surilius, grasping his sword, look down at the unconscious figure of Aemilianus.
"Cos does not have such force on the river," said a man.
"Look at the fellows on the rafts out there," said another fellow.
"They seem to be in great agitation," said a man.
"May I look?" asked a fellow. I handed him the glass.
Quickly he looked out at the mouth of the harbor. The ships were closer now. Now one could clearly see the blue fluttering at the stem line of the flagship. "That is not the flag of Cos!" he cried.
"Surely then it is variant of the flag of Cos," I said, "perhaps the flag of their forces on the river."
"It is the flag of Port Cos!" he cried. "It is the flag of Port Cos!" "The flag of Port Cos!" cried others.
"What does it matter, then? I asked. "Port Cos is a colony of Cos, the very citadel of her power on the Vosk."
"The topaz!" cried a man.
"The topaz! The topaz!" cried others, hundreds of voices.
Surilius was shaking Aemilianus, trying to arouse him. Tears were flowing from his eyes. "The topaz!" he cried to Aemilianus. "Marcus got through! It is Calliodorus, of Port Cos! It is the pledge of the topaz!"
"I do not understand," I said.
Suddenly I saw the flagship, knifing through an opening in the chain of rafts, literally sheer oars from the side of the Cosian ship put about in the harbor. I then saw another Cosian ship rammed amidships. The other three Cosian ships were trying to make a landfall at the sides of the harbor. I saw one run aground there, by a guard station. The fellows at the rafts were trying to close the chains, to close the harbor. I then saw four or five of the ram ships, their bows high, the rams out of the water, dripping water into the harbor, literally ride over, scraping and sliding, the rafts, and plunge into the harbor. The crews of the other two Cosian ships which had been in the harbor, those not injured, and not run aground, leapt over the sides, and, waist deep, waded to shore. I saw some other ships draw alongside the chains, and men swarm out onto the rafts. The Cosians that had been there fled before them. There remained the three openings, then, in the chain of rafts. Indeed, two trains of rafts now floated untethered in the harbor, and the other two trains floated loose, fastened only at one end, each still fastened to great pilings driven into the sand near guard stations, one on each side of the harbor. Out in the harbor itself the small boats and rafts of Cosians which had been approaching to attack were now hurrying to the shore, to one side or another, to take shelter near the most convenient guard station. One ship after another of the newcomers entered the harbor. The flagship, even now, was easing itself against the outer pier.
"I do not understand what is going on," I said. "What is all this about a topaz?"