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CHAPTER EIGHT

MEETINGS AT SEA

Nikeis lay ahead to the north, bright in the noon of the True Sun. A blustery wind out of the northeast raised whitecaps and the Roman quinquireme tossed unpleasantly as the oarsmen kept it stationary against the wind. Rick stamped impatiently as a smaller boat approached the fleet from the channel entrance to the Nikeis harbors.

Captain Pilinius scanned the approaching boat with Rick’s binoculars.

“Galliot,” he said. “Not a threat.”

The Roman reluctantly gave the binoculars back to Rick, as careful as Rick was in removing the strap from around his neck and using both hands to hold the optics. His expression was close to pure envy.

“I expect that’s just the point,” Rick said. “They want us to know they’re no threat. I’m sure Captain Oranato’s put the fear of God into Their Serenities or whatever the hell they call them.”

“The Signory,” Warner said helpfully. “Colonel, I expect your very polite letter saying that you expected to be met by Clavell and Harrison as well as their officials probably scared them more. I liked the tone you used.”

He turned his own binoculars onto the southern entrance to the Nikeis island complex a mile to their north.

After a moment Rick did the same. The channel entrance was guarded by twin stone fortresses, each over fifty feet high, standing over a complex of walls and low wooden houses. The channel turned sharply right a hundred feet past the entrance forts, winding its way through mud flats punctuated with other tower fortresses until it reached the main island complex. About two miles from here, Rick thought. A mile of mud flats, and those odd shaped towers.

He’d been told the northern entrance to the Nikeis complex was more open and less easily guarded, but he couldn’t see that because of the city itself.

No city walls. The main defense of the city would be on water. If a hostile army landed there would be street fighting, and whoever won, it would be bloody. He began visualizing an invasion of ten thousand troops. How many could Nikeis turn out to oppose the invaders? Where would they make a stand? The upslopes of the main islands’ steeply sloped spines would be hell on an attacker, but everything of value lay on the flats below them, and—aside from the population, at least—it couldn’t be moved. If they didn’t want their entire city looted or burned, that meant fighting on the low ground.

He scanned the island complex. The southern entrance channels seemed to be protected by tower forts, but it was hard to tell which of those forts was manned, or what they would be manned with. Not cannon. Not yet, but now that Nikeisian troops had seen the Great Guns in battle, it couldn’t be long before Nikeis had some too.

Presumably there would be chains across the harbor entrances, but Rick saw no signs of them. Probably they were lowered now. But aside from raising the chains, just how did Nikeis intend to defend itself against an invading fleet?

And the tide was coming in. Even as Rick watched some of the mud flats vanished under water. It was difficult to estimate the depth, but it seemed evident there must be new, unguarded channels to the city itself. Defense of that harbor would be complicated.

The inner lagoon and its central island complex were no more than twenty miles square, and probably a good bit less, with the higher island system an irregular blob some three to four miles wide. Rick frowned. Ten thousand men might very well take the city, and hold it if organized resistance collapsed. But first they’d have to get ashore onto the actual city islands.

“Hail,” someone called from the oncoming galliot.

“Looks like Clavell and Harrison, Colonel,” Warner said. “I think they took your suggestion seriously.”

“As they should have. Who’s that with them?”

“Black man,” Warner said. “In what looks like civilian survival gear. Earth man, I’d say. And three official-looking guys in robes and fancy hats. Signory, for sure. Damned if I know about any Black men, Skipper.”

“There were rumors of a Black star man,” Rick muttered. “Well, we’ll know soon enough. Bring up Major Mason and Major Baker, and ask Major Baker to stand twenty of his Gurkhas armed at attention along the stern rail. Might help if we have to negotiate.”

* * *

Clavell and Harrison were brought aboard by Roman marines, then led aft to the quarterdeck where Rick waited. They were not alone. The Black man and three expensively robed Nikeis officials followed them at a discreet distance and stood on the main deck as Clavell and Harrison climbed the stairs—ladder, Rick told himself—to the quarterdeck where Rick waited. Baker and twenty Gurkhas stood at attention along the stern rail with bayoneted rifles at order. They looked uncomfortable on the pitching quinquireme, but that only made them look more grimly dangerous, and Rick suppressed a grin.

Just what I wanted. The Signory must have heard what those rifles can do.

Clavell and Harrison obviously hadn’t suffered at the hands of the Nikeisian Signory. They were both clean and looked to have been well fed, Harrison perhaps more than was good for him. Clean clothes and a steady gait, Rick thought. I doubt I’ll be hearing any complaints.

Clavell wore what Rick would call local finery. Harrison wore star clothes, camouflage battle dress. Both had .45 Colt pistols in shoulder holsters, and in addition Harrison had an H&K battle rifle slung over his right shoulder. When they reached the quarterdeck they snapped to attention and saluted.

“Sergeant Clavell and Private Harrison reporting, Sir!”

Rick returned the salute.

“Welcome aboard. It’s been a while since we heard from you.”

“Yes, Sir. I sent you reports, but I reckon they didn’t get through,” Clavell said.

Cheerful enough, Rick thought. No sign of discomfort. Glad to see us. Not sure Harrison is, but Clavell’s all right. He’s looking for orders, doesn’t have schemes of his own. Of course I’m guessing.

“Get through or get out, Sergeant?”

“Don’t reckon they got out, Colonel,” Clavell said. “I don’t think the Signory have been letting my messages get out. I expect they still have them all.”

“I’ll ask,” Rick said. “Were you mistreated? Imprisoned?”

“No Sir,” Clavell said. “Only complaint I have is not being able to get messages in or out. Well, that and the fact they lied to me about not having a ship available to get us home before you locked up with the Fivers. They were making damned sure nothing they wanted to sit on was gonna get to you any earlier than they could help. ’Side from that, Colonel, we were treated like royalty.”

Rick nodded satisfaction. “I’ll get your full report later. At ease, men. Good to see you again, Harrison.”

“Glad to be back with the outfit,” Harrison said.

Sure you are, Rick thought. Sure you are. Harrison had a wife and children at Armagh. They’d been moved to Chelm when Rick withdrew the mercenaries from Armagh, but Harrison wouldn’t know that. And didn’t seem to care. Still— “Your family was well, the last time I saw them,” Rick said. “I moved them to Chelm for safety, but they ought to be on the way back to Armagh by now.”

“Safety? Sir?” Harrison frowned.

“There was a bit of a flap when the Five Kingdoms marched south, but that’s all settled now. Armagh is safe, and so is your family.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Harrison nodded, his expression unreadable.

So that’s that? Rick thought. I don’t know enough about my troops. Are they divorced? Is Harrison keeping a mistress? I don’t know much about his wife—southern girl, no family came up with her that I know of. Don’t know how many kids, either. Elliot would know.

“Begging your pardon, Colonel, but who the hell are those?” Harrison asked, pointing at Major Baker and his Gurkhas.

“Reinforcements,” Rick said. “We’re short on time just now. Mr. Warner will bring you up to date as soon as we get a chance.” Rick nodded towards the Black man who stood with the robed Nikeis officials. “Sergeant, who have you brought with you?” he asked, and noted that Clavell looked to Harrison before answering. Not sure which is the real leader, here, Rick thought. “Should we invite him up?”

“Yes, Sir.” Clavell said. “Sir, he’s from Earth.”

“Recently from Earth?”

“Yes, Sir, couple of weeks here, he reckons maybe three months in travel. There’s three of them. Colonel, there’s so damned much, this place, everything happening—”

“I know, Sergeant,” Rick said. “Anything I have to know before I meet him?”

“Not that I know, Colonel. He seems a pretty straight-up guy to me.”

“Good. Ask him to join us.”

Clavell nodded.

“Yes Sir.” He turned towards the mid deck and waved, and the Black man came up onto the quarterdeck. “Colonel, this is Cal Haskins. From San Francisco,” Clavell said. “Cal, Colonel Galloway.”

“An Earthman, I see.” Rick extended his hand. “And what brings you here, Mr. Haskins?”

Cal Haskins’ grip was firm, and he looked Rick directly in the eye as he shook his head with a faint smile.

“Corporal Haskins, US Army, as was, but that’s a long story, Colonel. Sure you got time to hear it all? Them Gurkhas look a bit seasick.”

“You know about the Gurkhas?” Rick demanded.

“Not a thing, Colonel. Seen Gurkha uniforms before, and the Major is clear Brit, easy to see that, and after the stories about brown star men and the pirates it wasn’t hard to figure. Easy to see they don’t like being on this boat, too.”

Rick nodded; Haskins had a point.

“Major Baker, you can have your men stand at ease. Or sit down, if they prefer.”

“Sir.” Baker gave quiet orders. The Gurkha troops sat cross-legged, their backs to the bulwark.

“No, we don’t have a lot of time at all,” Rick said, turning back to Haskins.

Clavell nodded vigorously.

“That’s what that merchant captain said. Shouted it out to everyone in the Palazzo. Pirate fleet coming, he said. Same as what the Nikeisian scout patrols say. Big pirate fleet coming, a hundred ships, maybe more. Two hundred. Maybe five hundred. Gathering in the mainland harbors, getting ready to sail against Nikeis. Pirates, Riccigiona, and Five Kingdom regulars coming to kill us all, coming soon, soon. We’d heard some of that before, but that guy you sent in made sure everybody in the Palazzo heard. Like he didn’t trust the Signory to tell everyone. He also said you were coming, with a Roman fleet and star weapons to help Nikeis, and that got cheers, I can tell you.”

That worked, Rick thought, exchanging a smile with Warner. It had been Warner’s idea to send ahead the merchant captain of the ship Major Baker had used to destroy the pirate vessels.

“So they already knew the pirates were coming. How many do they expect?” Rick demanded.

“Don’t know, Sir. The Councilors”—Clavell waved at the robed Nikeis officials still on the mid deck—“would know better. One said five hundred ships the other night, but nobody believes that. But a lot, enough to scare them. Never saw the Signory act so fast. They’re launching every reserve ship they’ve got. More ships than crews, they’re rounding up clerks and factory workers to be rowers, calling up the militia as marines. Damnedest stir you ever saw, Sir. Whole city’s like an ant hill! And they sure acted glad to hear you were coming to help them. Should I bring them up so you can ask them direct, Colonel?”

“In a few moments,” Rick said. He eyed the Black man. “I don’t think they can begrudge me a few minutes to get your reports. Hell, it’s their fault I don’t know things already! Mr. Haskins, give me the short version of what you’re doing here,” Rick said.

“Cal will do just fine, Colonel. I’m here to help Mr. Saxon set up a school. Least that’s what the CIA man told us back in the Tenderloin.”

“CIA?”

“Well, a Doctor Lee. Turns out he wasn’t CIA, but that’s what we thought he was. Said he was recruiting a teacher for a science school, Colonel. That was Mr. Saxon. The teacher he was recruiting, that is. Doctor Lee recruited him for a primitive place a long way off, and when I heard about it, I asked them to let me come along. Used to be I was a corporal in a nation-building outfit, and I hadn’t had much of a gig in a while. Sounded like something I could do. I thought I’d be going to Africa, but it turned out to be further away than that. Time I found that out, it was too late to turn back.”

“Too late?”

“That’s how they put it. They didn’t give us no choices.”

“So you and Saxon were tricked into coming here?”

“Pretty well. Damn well.”

“You don’t seem too shook up about it,” Warner said, and Haskins grimaced.

“Not now, maybe. Maybe I got over it. But I didn’t like it.”

“You tried to resist coming once you knew it would take you off the Earth?” Rick asked.

“Damn straight, Colonel, for all the good that did. Once we saw the ship we were supposed to get into was a flying saucer, they didn’t give us no way out. Next thing we knew we was on the Moon, and a policeman was telling us we didn’t have any choices, we had to earn our keep, go out to help Captain Galloway with his crop ’cause we was never going home.”

“A policeman.” Rick frowned. “Did you get his name?”

“Inspector Agzaral,” Cal Haskins said firmly.

“And he sent you here to assist me? He named me?”

“That he did. Go help Captain Galloway grow his crops, that’s what we were told to do,” Haskins said. “Didn’t understand everything and some of it sounded plain fishy, but that’s what they told me. We’re here to help you grow more crops by setting up a school. Mr. Saxon will know more than me. Ask him when we get ashore.”

“Why isn’t he out here?”

The ship pitched as a rogue wave came through the steady chop and Haskins gripped the quarterdeck rail.

“Bart gets seasick,” he said. “And, maybe, he didn’t exactly trust the Signory Council guys. Thought somebody ought to stay back an’ watch Miss Spirit and the cargo. Damn valuable stuff, that cargo.”

“Cargo. Shipping containers?”

“Yes, Sir, three of them, with a lot of stuff we bought on CIA credit cards.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“High-tech stuff. Books, CD-ROMs, computers, windmill generators, all kinds of stuff.”

“Evidently this is going to take some time to straighten out,” Rick said, and Clavell nodded vigorously.

“You know it, Colonel,” he said.

“And we don’t have much time. All right, Sergeant Clavell, is there anything else I need to know before we bring the Nikeisian people into the conversation? How safe are things in Nikeis?”

“I don’t know, Colonel. You need to know a lot, and we ain’t got time to tell it all just now. Main thing is that Nikeis is run by factions, and right now the two main factions are run by Councilor Torricelli—that’s the one on your left there—and Councilor Avanti. Avanti’s son was the one that found Cal and Bart Saxon and Ms. Lorraine Sandori. Torricelli and Avanti right now between them have control of three cargo containers full of electronics and books and God knows what else.”

“Guns?” Art Mason demanded.

“Don’t know, Major,” Clavell said. “Saxon says not many, information mostly, not weapons. And tools. Lots of tools. But Torricelli has troops, and Avanti has troops, and the Doge has troops, and some of the other councilors have troops, and everybody’s got ships, and they’re all working together to fix up a fleet and train the militia to defend the place from these pirates, and nobody’s really in command! Not the Doge, not the Councilors, nobody. But while nobody’s really in charge, those guys give orders most will follow. So right now they’re the two most powerful men in Nikeis,” Clavell finished breathlessly. “They thought they was doing you a big honor coming out to meet you. And I don’t think it’s too wise to keep them waiting too long. They’re acting friendly, but they’re damned proud types.”

Rick nodded thoughtfully, then smiled thinly.

“Come over here,” Rick said. “You too, Harrison.” He gathered the three men into an embrace. “Warner, get in on this. Overjoyed to see our men again. Put your heart into it. You too, Art, Major Baker. Big dancing huddle circle! Look overjoyed.” He led them in a circular dance.

Used to do that in football, Rick thought. Not that I played much. But they did, and it looks good.

“Right,” Baker said tonelessly.

They all joined in an exuberant welcome leaving Haskins outside the circle, then Rick opened a place on his left and invited him into the welcoming ring.

“How long do we keep this up, Sir?” Harrison asked sourly.

“Long enough to make them think it’s some kind of custom,” Rick said. “That ought to do it. Break. Back on your dignity. Can’t hurt to leave ’em a bit confused.”

They broke the circle and stood back.

“Okay, Clavell, invite them up. Look like we’re glad to see them.”

“Yes, Sir. One thing, Colonel. Don’t get the idea you’re a better actor than them. Plots and stories and that sort of thing is the way they run this city, and these are the best they’ve got.”

Rick nodded.

Well, I’ve given them a good excuse not to be mad at us unless they want to be, he thought. The real question is, do I care? I have my men back. I need this Saxon guy, and those containers, but do I need anything else from this place? Of course that’s what they’ll be thinking, too.

“Powder dry,” he said distinctly. Warner looked startled. Mason and Baker nodded in understanding.

Clavell went down to the mid deck and escorted the robed figures up to the quarterdeck.

“Colonel Galloway, I have the honor to present Councilor Torricelli, Councilor Avanti, and Senator del Verme. The Senator was recently appointed Admiral of the Home Waters. Signory, I present Colonel Galloway, Colonel of Star Lords and Warlord of Drantos.”

Clavell spoke in halting Italian, then translated into English, and Rick bowed to each of the Nikeis dignitaries in turn.

“It is my pleasure,” he said. “We have much to discuss, and little time.”

He studied the three men as Clavell translated. The others hung back, willing to let Torricelli speak for them all. They all had the same look, trying to be friendly, maybe afraid they wouldn’t get that message across. They kept glancing at the twenty armed Gurkhas at the stern rail. The Gurkhas were seated but they gave the impression of being at attention. Not happy with the ship’s motion, but they sat like statues, their bayoneted rifles stiffly upright with their butts on the deck. The Nikeisians seemed fascinated by those rifles . . . and by the big kukri knives at their belts. Rick had no doubt the merchant captain had described their effectiveness against the pirate ships, and their power had probably grown in the telling.

Torricelli nodded gravely.

“Warlord of Drantos, we greet you in the name of the Doge and the people of the Most Serene Republic. As you say, there is much to discuss and little time, and this is hardly the proper place. Allow me to invite you to the Palace where we have proper records and maps, and we can make more meaningful plans.”

“We’ve brought twenty ships and crews,” Rick said. “And their weapons.” He indicated the Gurkhas at the stern rail. “They will need berthing and shore quarters.”

“This is even now being arranged. Do you have more forces coming?”

“Perhaps, but the timing is critical. We should plan to win with the forces we have.”

“That will be few enough against what we believe is coming.”

“Which is what?”

“Hundreds of ships from the Gavin pirates, Five Kingdoms, and Riccigiona.”

“What is Nikeis’ relationship with the Grand Duchy?”

“They have long been our rivals and they are now allied with the Five Kingdoms.”

“Do you know of any reason they would sail against you now?”

“Only that they’ve heard of the great boxes and wish to have them for themselves. Their joining this armada is troubling to us, as their crews are almost as well trained as our own.”

“So I’ve heard.” Rick smiled slightly. “Your Captain Oranato will have told you of the effectiveness of our weapons.”

Torricelli’s expression was impassive.

“We can but hope,” he said. “We should make haste. There is little time. Shall we proceed?”

Sure, Rick thought. And how do I know we’ll come back out of there? Clavell and Harrison didn’t. But I already decided this, I’m going in.

“I will be pleased to accompany you to the city,” he said. “I will summon the fleet when Fleetmaster Junius and Tribune Alantamius have examined the arrangements made for their accommodation.” Rick indicated the Roman naval officer. “Major Mason, you’ll be in command here. I’ll leave Private Harrison with you to brief the Fleet Admiral and the other Roman commanders. Mr. Haskins, will you remain with them? I’m sure you’ll have a lot to tell them. Thank you. Now, Mr. Warner, you and sergeants Clavell and Bisso will come with me.”

Rick bowed to the Nikeisian officials.

“I will come with you on your ship, gentlemen. These Roman staff officers will accompany me to see to our berthing arrangements. Time is short, Excellencies, and I believe it’s time to get on with it.”

“Colonel—” Art Mason looked horrified.

“It’s all right, Major,” Rick said in English. “I don’t think it’s a trap, but just in case I’m leaving you with the firepower to do something about it, and Harrison to tell you who to do it to. I don’t know what these guys are planning, but they’re not likely to do anything until we’ve dealt with those pirates.”

“Sure of that, Colonel?” Major Baker asked.

“Reasonably sure,” Rick said. “Not so sure I’ll risk His Nibs until we know more. And there’s no need to let them suspect that His Nibs is with us, either.”

“We need you more than we need—” Rick held up his hand. “Than we need His Nibs,” Baker finished, and Mason nodded vigorously.

“Colonel, at least let me send some bodyguards.”

Rick shook his head. “I have my pistol, and Warner has his—”

Mason’s snort showed what he thought of Warner’s skills as a bodyguard.

“More won’t help,” Rick said. “Harrison and Clavell were there for months without any problems.”

“You’re just a little more important than Lance and Jimmy,” Mason said. “Colonel, I’d feel better coming with you.”

“I would too, Art, but leaving Major Baker to command without knowing much of the local situation is a bit much to ask of him.”

“Then take me with a section of my lads,” Baker said.

“Trust,” Rick said. “We’ll need to show some, and this is as good a way as any. They’re not going to jump me while that pirate fleet’s coming to burn the whole place out!”

“Yes, Sir,” Baker said. “Even so I’ll feel better when we’re all together again.”

“Me too. But I won’t be any use until I find out just what the hell is going on,” Rick said.

“Well, the Nikeisian situation is complicated,” Warner began, but Rick cut him off.

“The devil with the Nikeisian situation. Ever read Sabatini? Typical Renaissance-flavored Tran politics. Nikeis I understand. What I can’t figure out is what Agzaral thinks he’s doing!”

“Oh,” Warner said.

“Precisely.” Rick turned to the Nikeisian officials. “If Your Honors will lead the way . . . ”


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