Once he stood, buoyant and eager-eyed,

By the brave captain's side . . .

Into the battle storm!

There in his country's uniform.

Laurels and tears for thee, boy,

Laurels and tears for thee!

Laurels of light, moist with the precious dew . . .

And blest by the balmy breath of the beautiful and the true;

And laurels of light, and tears of truth,

And the mantle of immortality;

And the flowers of love and immortal youth,

And the tender heart-tokens of all true rutha"

And the everlasting victory . . .

Dear warrior-boy for thee.

Chapter the 11th.

Siege: Hark to the Call of War!

Far and near, high and clear,

Hark to the call of War!

Over the gorse and the golden dells,

Ringing and swinging of clamorous bells,

Praying and saying of wild farewells:

War! War! War!

"The Call"

Robert Service

Melville and Fielder stopped as they came down from their ship and looked out from the bluffs where the Pier was located. As always the transition from star-swept Flatland skies to a sunlit world was sudden and dramatic. In this case it was a sweltering tropical world, under a clear, bra.s.s colored sky. The visual impact of the light and the physical blow of the heat were joined by the additional sensory impact of a veritable nasal explosion of smells.

Before them, across the River Grottem, was the vast, low, teeming city of Ee. On their side of the river, high on the bluffs, encompa.s.sed by gray city walls and fortifications, was Ai, nicknamed "Bluff City," with its vast Pier, lofty villas, and proud munic.i.p.al buildings. Both cities were swollen with refugees from Scrotche, the city surrounding Ambergris' Lower Pier, several hundred miles away and now conquered by the Stolsh invaders. All around them the twin cities swarmed and bustled with mobilization and preparation for war.

"There it is," said Melville with a sardonic smile. "Proud Ai and pestilent Ee. AiEe, pearl of cities!"

"Oh, aye, sir," replied Fielder. "This is indeed an annoying impurity, covered with the slimy secretions of an irritated, mindless sea creature. If I ever saw one, this is it."

Melville grinned. "Our lovely refuge in a storm doesn't appeal to you, Daniel?"

"I'll say this for it, sir. I've traveled the galaxy, man and boy, and I've seen prettier cities, and I've seen bigger cities, but no city can rival fair AiEe for its smell. Ancient Katmandu and far Qualth were ripe indeed, but even these cla.s.sic samples of olfactory poetry were mere doggerel when set against the full gagging glory of AiEe." Looking down at a region of fetid sludge at the bottom of the bluff he continued. "And behold the River Grottem, which oozes between the proud twin cities. Reservoir, sewer and morgue, it serves each citizen from womb to tomb. Hastening the journey considerably in many cases."

"Aye, Daniel, and if the Westerness consul tells us to, we will fight for it unto the death."

"d.a.m.n," said Fielder, with a scowl, "I hate it when you talk like that. We've been shot to h.e.l.l, sir. Twice. No, dammit, three times! Four if we count your battle on Broadax's World! Now we've accomplished a feat unprecedented in the annals of modern warfare. You yourself received a dozen minor wounds, and there are few men on board ship who aren't at least lightly wounded. We've done enough, sir. It's time for us to go home."

Then, for just an instant, Fielder looked into the eyes of a man who wasn't quite human, and he suppressed a shudder. Melville had grown. Leadership responsibilities and combat experience had forged him into a warrior. His deep communion with his Ship and cannons had also left a lasting mark, changing him into a killer. He'd "swapped moss," exchanging neurons with savage, exotic beings, and the thoughts of alien, feral creatures now echoed in Melville's brain. There is a streak of madness in anyone who spends quality time inside an alien mind. Only the demands of duty kept him on the slender rails of sanity, and the call of duty carved into his haunted soul was all that balanced the l.u.s.t for blood. No living creature would keep him from his duty. If his duty was to kill, then that was good. That was very good.

Melville's c.o.xswain, Ulrich, stood glowering beside him. They'd become virtually inseparable in the short period since the battle. Ulrich always made Fielder's blood run cold. The "murderous little killer of a hater" was as efficient and eager a killer as a sociopathic mongoose, and now he'd found his master. Fielder realized with a chill that the man who mastered such a killer was the one who truly deserved to be feared.

The butcher's bill wasn't as bad this time. Less than when they'd been ambushed by the Guldur. Far less than resulted from their boarding action. Most of their casualties were wounded, with only a handful of dead. It would have been much worse if AiEe's superb medical facilities had not been immediately available. Although Ambergris was a low-tech world, AiEe's upper city did have some superb mid-tech medical facilities, facilities which Lady Elphinstone was already putting to full use. Also, high up on the Pier, where the gravity was light, a hospital had been established where the wounded could recover in a low-gravity environment. Combining mid-tech medical treatment with low-gravity recovery facilities created a powerful, lifesaving synergy.

"Start getting the ship in order, and find us some replacements, Daniel," said Melville quietly. "There are humans here, many of them sailors who may be willing to sign on with us. Perhaps some Sylvans could be convinced to join. We know that they make great topmen. Meanwhile, I will talk with the port admiral. I'll pa.s.s on the message from Pearl, and try to get support for our repairs." He added with a sardonic smile, "They will hopefully feel grateful to us."

"Aye, sir. Aye they should," his first officer replied with a fierce scowl.

"After that I'll go to the consul. If he tells us to fight, then we will fight, and that's all there is to it."

High and low, all must go:

Hark to the shout of War!

Leave to the women the harvest yield;

Gird ye, men, for the sinister field;