«A mistake like that. wouldn’t be possible.»

«You never told me there was another ship,» Adar said, matching their pace.

«We didn’t know.»

«Then where did it come from, this ship that has changed everything in an instant?»

Matt sighed. «The same place we did. Through the Squall.»

«But you know her?»

Matt nodded. «You remember we once spoke of how Walker was damaged so badlyly from them? And the Japanese are as different from us as you are from the Aryaalans. Remember, we were at war with them before we came here.»

«But»

«We’ll have to pick it up later,» said Matt, hitching his belt as best he could and nodding forward.

«Who was winning?» Adar asked quietly, but Matt didn’t answer. Ahead, as the first troops entered the city, the distinctive sound of battle reached them from within. Chack shouted something over the din, but what it was, at first, Matt had no idea. Other shouts echoed back, and when Matt and his companions finally passed through the arch, the cause of the confusion was plain. Battle raged in the courtyard and streets beyond, but as yet the Marines weren’t involved. Civil war had come once more to Aryaal.

Word of the final ultimatum, complete with the warning of the Grik, had spread like wildfire throughout the city. It began among the defenders at the gate who fled from the guns. Officer after officer — Rasik’s handpicked — tried to stem the tide of desertion and many of them were slain. The palace guard tried to stop them too, but when real fighting began, many who were willing to defend the city joined the mutineers when they saw them being killed by the king’s personal troops. It was too much. Most were loyal to their city and their king, no matter who he was. That the loyalists had prevailed in the previous fighting was proof enough of that — even if the purges after the first rebellion had been excessive enough to fire indignation and doubt. But as word of the renewed Grik threat continued to spread, they began to realize that the patient invaders outside the walls weren’t the real enemy after all. They knew if it hadn’t been for the sea folk, the Grik would have had them already. They could never hold them off a second time. Suddenly, to most of the warriors of Aryaal, the survival of their families transcended nationalism and loyalty to a new king they didn’t even like.

By the time Lord Rolak entered the city at the head of his column of native warriors, the uprising in the city — at least the northern half — was already practically over. Marines fanned out and created a perimeter inside the gate, but no one so much as threw a rock at them. Beyond the perimeter there was still fighting, but it flared in fits and spurts. It had degenerated mostly into a grudge match now between the various Aryaalan political houses and the palace guard. None of the combatants from any side seemed to want the Marines to get involved. Lord Rolak paced to the great Fountain of the Sun in the center of the plaza and climbed the stepped circle that surrounded it for a better view. From amid the turmoil of fighting and the growing crowd of townsfolk, someone shouted a cheer at the sight of him. Then another. Within minutes, the dwindling sound of battle was overwhelmed by thunderous cheering that surged and echoed off the walls of the city and the royal palace beyond the plaza. Defenders threw down their weapons and many took up the cheer as well.

Rolak was overcome. Matt mounted the steps beside him, grinning for the first time that day. The sound was overwhelming and it only seemed to build as more and more Aryaalans rushed from other parts of the city. The crowd surged, but the Marines kept them at bay. A phalanx of armed Aryaalans — not palace guards but still a well-turned-out force — made its way through the crowd until it reached the Marines’ shield wall. Shinya rushed to the point of contact with Chack by his side and after several moments of hand gestures and shouting, a single figure was let through the wall. Chack hurried to Matt and Rolak, with the individual puffing and almost running to keep up. His flowing embroidered robe threatened to trip him.

«Lord Koratin,» Rolak of restrained greeting when the pair drew near. Chack automatically translated for Captain Reddy.

«Lord Rolak,» Koratin replied, and bowed.

«I understand you are chief advisor to that murdering coward who has stolen the throne,» Rolak said. «We were never friends, but I expected better of you.»

«It is true, that was my position, my lord. And that is what I tried to do. But my advice wasn’t heeded, or even tolerated. The king is quite mad.»

«The attempt to sink the iron ship?»

Koratin nodded. «I told him it was madness when I learned his scheme. I even sent three trusted servants to warn you, but they were caught and killed. The palace guard came for me then, but my retainers held them off.» He smiled crookedly. «If not for your timely arrival and the chaos that ensued, I would be dead. How delightfully ironic!»

Rolak barked a laugh. «You always were amazingly skilled at survival, Koratin!»

Koratin bowed. «As you can see, it’s a useful skill.» His face turned grim. «Is it true? The Grik will return?»

«It is true.»

«I feared as much. I feared for my younglings — for all the younglings of our people — but the king would not listen. He does not believe the old stories» — he nodded respectfully at Chack" that for our salvation the sea folk have preserved!»

«Fear still, Koratin. The danger is greater than you imagine. We must all leave this place and become beggars in the north. The sea folk will succor us, but they need our arms more than our bellies, so all who go must be willing to fight, and provocations won’t occur.»

Koratin was stunned. «But what of our walls? Can we not hold here if the sea folk come to our aid?»

«No.» Rolak nodded toward Matt, who stood listening. «Cap-i-taan Reddy has told me how it must be and I believe him.»

Koratin turned to look at Matt for the first time. His stare was an appraising one. «So that is the great tail-less leader of the sea folk,» he said. «I suspected as much.» He bowed low to the captain.

«Where’s Rasik?» Matt demanded, eyes flashing.

«In his palace, lord. Yonder.» Koratin pointed at the imposing structure beyond the plaza. «He has almost four hundred guards. Quite fanatical, I’m afraid. It will be difficult and costly to storm.»

For a long while, Matt said nothing while those nearby waited for his decision. His expression seemed almost yearning as his eyes bored into the palace walls.

«No, it won’t,» he said at last. Rolak cocked his head and looked at Matt with a questioning blink. «We’re not going to storm it. Oh, don’t get me wrong — there’s nothing I’d rather do than bring the guns in and blow it down around him, and that’s what we’d do if we had the time. We’d take our time!» he snarled. Calming, he clasped his hands behind his back. «But we don’t have the luxury of time, and I’m not going to waste lives getting the little bastard the old-fashioned way. Chack and his Marines will see that no one gets out while you begin evacuating the city.»

Chack was confused and surprised. He was first and foremost a destroyerman, after all, and Donaghey was one of his clan. Surely the captain wouldn’t leave his death un-avenged — not after he had been willing to break the alliance that morning to take the city. «But what about the king, Captain?» he prodded. «What are we going to do about hime to ive liberators, bent on saving the people of this world from the depredations of a remorseless foe. They were leaving as destroyers, causing more harm than the Grik had yet managed.

With a surprised thankfulness that he couldn’t express, he felt Sandra’s hand find his in the darkness and he squeezed it gently before letting go. She’d been more reserved toward him that day than their «agreement» required and he still wondered why. Then he looked at Mallory. The young aviator’s face glowed grimly in the reflected light. He’d spoken little since he arrived, only confirming with a nod that the dispatch was entirely accurate. There was no mistake. He stood there now, holding Revenge’s log in both hands like a sacred treasure. Matt would read it later, when his attention could be spared from the decisions at hand. Right now it would just be too much. He would share it with Keje when the two of them could quietly mourn their dead alone. He cleared his throat. «So, are they Japs, Mr. Mallory? Did you get close enough to see?»