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?"
"You are then indeed a stranger to Ar's Station, and to the river," said a fellow. "The pledge of the topaz was originally an agreement between river pirates, a pledge of mutual assistance and, in crisis, alliance, between them, those of the eastern and western Vosk, between Policrates in the east and Ragnar Voskjard in the west. When the ports of the river, and their men, rose up against the predations, the tolls and tributes, of these pirates, the topaz fell into the hands of the victorious rebels. From such fighting came the formation of the Vosk League."
I knew something of the Vosk League. Its headquarters was in the town of Victoria, on the northern back of the Vosk, between Fina and Tafa. Due to its patrols and presence piracy, and certainly large-scale, institutionalized piracy, had been largely removed from the Vosk, from east of White Water, near Lara, a town of the Salarina Confederation at the confluence of the Vosk and Olni, to the delta.
"But a topaz is a stone," I said, "a kind of semiprecious stone." "And such a stone is the symbol of the pledge," said the fellow. "It was originally a quite unusual stone, one which bore in its markings and coloration a remarkable configuration, that of a river galley. The stone was broken, however, into two pieces. One does not see the ship in the separate parts of the stone for the isolated marks and colorings seem meaningless. When the parts are joined, however, the ship appears. One part of the stone was originally held by Ragnar Voskjard, chief of pirates in the west, and the other by Policrates, chief of pirates in the east. Each, when in need of counsel or support, would send his part of the stone to the other. They would then join forces." "What has the topaz to do with the Vosk League?" I asked.
"It has nothing to do with the Vosk League itself," said the fellow. "It is now a private pledge between Port Cos and Ar's Station."
"But the sympathies of Port Cos are surely with her mother ubarate," I said, "and those of Ar's Station with Ar."
I could see several galleys now drawing up at the piers. Men with shields leapt from them to the piers, hurrying to the sides facing the inner harbor. Cosians attempting to climb to the piers there would encounter fresh, dangerous armed me, in hundreds."
"Both Port Cos and Ar's Station fought on the river, in terrible and bloody battles, hull to hull. After the final victory over the pirates, which took place at Victoria in 10,127 C.A., the parts of the stone came into the keeping of Calliodorus, at that time acting first captain in Port Cos, and Aemilianus, who was at that time commander of the naval forces of Ar's Station. The pledge was renewed privately between them, I think, as comrades in arms, as Ar's Station was not permitted by Ar to join the Vosk League."
"Why was that?" I asked.
"I do not know," he said. "It is speculated that Ar feared such an alliance would compromise her claims in the Vosk Basin."
I nodded. That made sense to me. I had suspected as much earlier. The fellow, incidentally, had given the year of the aforementioned battle as 10,127 C.A. It was natural that he, of Ar's Station, would give the date in the chronology of Ar. Different cities, perhaps in their vanity, or perhaps simply in accord with their own traditions, often have their own chronologies, based on Administrator Lists, and such. A result of this is that there is little uniformity in Gorean chronology. The same year, in the chronology of Port Kar, if it is of interest, would have been Year 8 of the Sovereignty of the Council of Captains. The reform of chronology is proposed by a small party from among the castes of scribes almost ever year at the Fair of En'Kara, near the Sardar, but their proposals, sensible as they might seem, are seldom greeted with either interest or enthusiasm, even by the scribes. Perhaps that is because the reconciliation and coordination of chronologies, like the diction and convolutions of the law, are regarded as scribal prerogatives.
"That is the Tais," said a fellow, pointing to the flagship of the newly arrived ships. "I would know it anywhere!" It was being moored at the pier. Its captain, who had been standing on the stern castle, issuing orders, now descended the steps, past the posts of the two helmsmen. In a moment, vaulting over the rail like a common seaman, he had disembarked. He was hatless and helmetless. A young fellow followed him. I recalled him from the audience chamber in the citadel. He was, I took it, the young warrior, Marcus. Men were cheering. Men clutched at them as they sought to make their way through the crowd. I saw them reaching out to touch even the swirling cloak of the captain. "Where is Aemilianus?" called the captain. In his hand, uplifted, about half the size of a fist, the sun catching its polished surface, was a yellowish stone, marked with brown. Men, seeing it, wept and cried out.