fs.thethirdbookofswords-第21章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　or　two　closer　to　the　Mindsword's　swing　and　it　would　have　killed　him。
　The　fall　had　taken　him　out　of　reach　of　the　Dark　King；　but　at　least　it　had　also　broken　his　direct　eye　contact　with　that　flashing；　hypnotic　Blade。　Now；　with　freedom　roaring　louder　than　the　Mindsword　in　his　mind；　Mark　looked　up　to　catch　a　glimpse　of　Vilkata's　back　on　the　high　platform。　The　monarch　was　turned　away　from　Mark　at　the　moment；　facing　out　over　the　excited　masses　of　the　crowd　at　its　front　edge。
　He　must　be　struck　down；　Mark　repeated　grimly　to　himself。　And　I　must　do　it；　do　it　now；　no　matter　what；　and　get　his　Sword。
　He　tore　himself　free　of　a　fresh　tangle　of　frenzied　bodies　on　the　ground。　Shoving　people　out　of　his　way　with　one　hand；　holding　Sightblinder　uplifted　in　the　other；　he　ran　along　his　side　of　the　reviewing　stand　and　then　along　its　front。　The　pain　in　his　wounded　forehead　savaged　him；　made　him　yearn　to　strike　out　at　those　villainous　legs　of　officers　and　sorcerers　that　danced　and　pushed　for　advantage　on　the　platform　before　him　at　eye　level。　But　he　held　back　his　blow；　grimly　certain　that　he　would　be　able　to　strike　no　more　than　once。
　Blood　bothering　his　eyes；　pain　nailing　his　head；　Mark　looked　up　trying　to　locate　Vilkata　again。　It　seemed　hopeless。　The　sun　was　dazzling。　The　Mindsword　flashed　in　it；　and　flashed　again。　Only　in　surrender　to　it　was　there　hope。　Mark　had　to　look　away；　bend　down　his　neck　to　get　away　from　it。　He　could　not　let　his　eyes　and　soul　be　caught　by　it　again。
　As　he　turned　his　gaze　away　from　the　platform；　there　came　into　his　vision　the　vast　expanse　of　the　parade　ground　and　its　howling　mob　of　people。　Sightblinder　made　two　details　stand　out　in　rapid　succession；　each　so　strongly　that　they　were　able　to　distract　him　even　now。
　The　first；　astonishingly　for　Mark；　was　the　prison　cage　with　its　lone　occupant；　even　though　he　could　glimpse　it　only　intermittently　now　through　the　swirl　of　ecstatic　bodies。　He　had　encountered　the　sentry　demon　beside　that　cage；　and　he　remembered；　or　almost　remembered；　something　else；　something　that　one　of　the　magicians　had　said　inside　about　the　prisoner。
　And　then　the　second　distracting　detail　captured　Mark's　attention　even　from　the　first。　He　saw　a　small　gray　cloud；　rolling　in　a　very　uncloudlike　way　down　the　steep　flank　of　a　distant　mountain。　Inside　that　cloud　Mark's　sharpened　perception　could　pick　out　half　a　dozen　living　beings；　all　apparently　of　human　shape。
　Already；　as　he　watched；　the　cloud　reached　the　paratively　level　land　at　the　mountain's　foot。　Now　it　rolled　closer　rapidly；　directly　approaching　the　encampment；　moving　independently　of　any　wind。　It　was　traveling　with　deceptive　speed；　outracing　wind；　traversing　kilometers　in　mere　moments。
　Some　of　the　people　on　the　platform　above　Mark　had　now　bee　aware　of　the　cloud　as　well。　The　uproar　immediately　surrounding　the　Dark　King　had　abated　somewhat。　Mark　cast　a　quick　look　toward　Vilkata；　and　saw　that　the　King　was　lowering　his　own　Sword；　giving　the　approaching　cloud　his　full　attention。
　A　shrieking　in　the　air　passed　rapidly　overhead。　A　flight　of　the　airborne　demons；　acting　either　on　their　own　or　at　some　direct　mand　from　their　human　masters；　had　melded　themselves　into　a　tight　formation　and　were　flying　directly　at　the　approaching　cloud；　intent　on　investigation　and　perhaps　attack。　But　just　before　they　reached　the　cloud　their　formation　recoiled　and　burst；　its　members　scattering。　Mark　had　the　impression　that　they　had　been　brushed　aside　like　so　many　insects；　by　some　invisible　power。
　In　a　flash　understanding　came。　The　gods　were　ing　to　take　charge。　Through　his　pain　and　blood　and　fear　Mark　gasped　out　a　sob　of　deep　relief。　Humanity　had　hope　of　being　saved；　by　the　beings　who　had　made　the　Swords；　from　powers　that　were　too　much　for　it　to　manage。　He　had　seen　gods　handle　savage　and　rebellious　men　before。　Vilkata；　shrunken　to　the　stature　of　a　noxious　insect　in　their　presence；　might　be　crushed　before　his　horror　could　reach　over　the　whole　human　world。　Mark's　own　Sword　might　be　taken　from　him　too；　but　on　the　scale　of　these　events　that　would　make　little　difference。
　The　cloud；　no　longer　serving　any　purpose　of　concealment；　was　being　allowed　to　dissipate；　and　it　vanished　quickly。　The　handful　of　beings　who　had　ridden　it　were　walking　now；　already　entering　the　parade　ground　at　its　far　side；　and　approaching　quickly。　The　sea　of　humans　occupying　the　open　space　parted　at　the　deities'　approach。　Four　gods　and　one　goddess；　each　tall　as　Draffut；　came　striding　forward　without　pause；　and　Mark　got　the　impression　that　they　would　have　stepped　on　people　without　noticing　had　any　remained　in　their　way。
　Towering　taller　and　taller　as　they　drew　near；　the　five　advanced；　marching　straight　for　the　reviewing　stand。　Mark　thought　that　now　he　could　recognize　some　of　them　individually。　Four　were　attired　with　divine　elegance；　wearing　crowns；　tunics；　robes　ablaze　with　color；　gold；　and　gems。　But　one；　who　limped　as　he　strode　forward；　was　clad　in　simple　furs。　Again　Mark　glanced　back　quickly　at　the　platform。　Vilkata　was　out　of　striking　range；　and　still　closely　surrounded　by　his　people　and　his　magical　attendants。
　The　Dark　King　had　sheathed　the　Mindsword　now；　and　was　issuing　terse　orders　to　certain　of　his　wizards。　In　the　next　instant　one　of　these　magicians　gave　a　convulsive　leap　that　carried　him　clear　off　the　platform。　He　fell　more　heavily　than　Mark　had　fallen；　and　lay　writhing　helplessly　on　the　ground。　Mark　could　guess　that　some　protective　spell　of　this　man's　had　somehow　impeded　the　divine　progress；　and　that　when　the　spell　was　snapped；　like　some　ship's　hawser　in　the　docks；　he　who　had　been　holding　it　was　flattened　by　the　recoil。
　Whatever　magic　had　been　in　their　path；　spells　perhaps　triggered　automatically　by　their　intrusion；　the　gods　had　broken　their　way　through　it；　they　were　irritated；　Mark　thought；　looking　at　them；　like　adults　bothered　by　some　maze　of　string　set　up　by　children。
　At　last　the　four　gods　and　one　goddess　halted　their　advance。　They　stood　on　the　parade　ground　only　a　score　of　meters　from　the　platform；　their　heads　still　easily　overtopping　that　of　the　Dark　King　who　faced　them　from　his　elevation。　Everyone　else　on　the　platform　was　kneeling；　Mark　realized；　or　had　thrown　themselves　face　down　in　abject　panic；　and　everyone　near　him　on　the　ground　also。　He　and　the　Dark　King　were　the　only　two　humans　within　a　hundred　meters　still　on　their　feet。　How　curious；　Mark　wondered　distantly。　The　only　other　time　in　his　life　when　he　had　seen　deities　as　close　as　this；　why　that　time　too　he　had　been　able　to　remain　standing；　while　around　him　other　humans　knelt　or　huddled　in　collapse　。。。
　The　limping　god　was　moving　forward。　In　the　silence　that　lay　over　the　whole　camp；　his　ornaments　of　dragon…scale　could　be　heard　clinking　as　he　lurched　to　within　one　great　stride　of　the　platform。　That　is　Vulcan　the　Smith；　thought　Mark；　staring　up　at　the　fur…garbed　titan　…　he　who　took　off　my　father's　arm。　Vulcan　paid　no　attention　to　Mark；　but　was　looking　at　Vilkata。　As　far　as　Mark　could　tell；　Vilkata　did　not　flinch；　though　when　the　god　halted　he　was　close　enough　to　the　platform　to　have　reached　forth　one　of　his　long　arms　and　plucked　Vilkata　from　it。
　Wind　came　keening　across　the　camp；　blowing　out　of　the　bare；　devastated　lands　surrounding　it。　Otherwise　there　was　silence。
　A　silence　abruptly　broken；　by　the　voice　of　Vulcan　that　boomed　forth　at　a　volume　appropriate　for　a　god。　〃What　madness　is　this　that　you　fools　of　humans　are　about？　Do　you　not　realize　that　the　Swordgame　is　over？〃
　Vilkata　summoned　up　his　best　royal　voice　to　answer。　〃I　am　the　Dark　King。。。〃　It　was　no　surprise　at　all　to　Mark　that　the　King's　voice　should　quaver　and　falter　and　quit　on　him　before　the　sentence　ended。　The　only　wonder　was　that　the　man　could　stand　and　speak　at　all　in　such　a　confrontation。
　Vulcan　was　neither　impressed　nor　pleased。　〃King；　Queen；　or　whatever；　what　do　I　care　for　all　that？　You　are　a　human　and　no　more。　Hand　over　that　tool　of　power　that　you　are　wearing　at　your　side。〃
　Vilkata　did　not　obey　at　once；　instead　he　dared　to　answer　once　more　in　words。　Mark　did　not　hear　the　words　exactly；　for　his　attention　had　once　more　been　distracted　by　something　in　the　distance。　This　was　another　cloud；　and　it　looked　as　unusual　as　the　first。
　This　cloud　was　not　rolling　d