fs.thethirdbookofswords-第22章

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ance。　This　was　another　cloud；　and　it　looked　as　unusual　as　the　first。
　This　cloud　was　not　rolling　down　a　mountainside；　only　drifting　through　the　air；　but　its　path　was　at　a　right　angle　to　those　of　other　clouds　and　the　wind。　Now　the　strange　cloud　was　hovering；　hesitating　in　its　slow　passage。　It　appeared　to　be　maintaining　a　certain　cautious　distance　from　the　scene　on　the　parade　ground。　With　Sightblinder　still　in　hand；　Mark　could　perceive　in　this　second　cloud　also　the　presence　of　figures　of　human　shape　but　divine　dimensions。　There　was　one；　a　perfect　essence　of　the　female；　that　he　thought　could　be　only　Aphrodite。　He　could　see　none　of　the　others　so　clearly　as　individuals；　though　all　of　their　faces　seemed　to　be　turned　his　way。
　The　distraction　had　been　only　momentary。　Now　Vulcan；　made　impatient　by　even　a　moment's　temporizing　on　the　part　of　this　mere　human　king；　thundered　out　some　oath；　and　stretched　forth　his　arm　toward　Vilkata。　With　a　swift　motion　the　Dark　King　drew　the　Mindsword　from　its　sheath　…　but　not　to　hand　it　over　in　surrender。　Instead　he　brandished　it　aloft。
　Vulcan　cried　out　once；　a　strange；　hoarse　tone；　like　masses　of　metal　and　rock　colliding。　The　lame　god　threw　up　a　forearm　across　his　eyes。　He　reeled　backward；　and　fell　to　one　knee。　Mark　could　feel　in　the　ground　under　his　own　feet　the　impact　of　that　fall。
　Just　behind　the　Smith；　the　four　other　deities　who　had　e　out　of　the　cloud　with　him　were　kneeling　also。
　Once　again　a　long　moment　of　silence　held　throughout　the　camp。　The　distant　airborne　cloud　was　moving　faster　now；　departing　at　accelerated　speed。　Mark　gazed　after　it　numbly　for　a　moment。　The　gods　had　failed。　The　thousands　of　human　beings　massed　around　him　were　cheering　once　again。
　Now　Vilkata　was　speaking　again。　After　Vulcan's　thunder　the　King's　voice　sounded　puny；　but　it　was　triumphant　and　confident　once　again　as　he　shouted　an　order　to　the　kneeling　gods；　their　heads　still　higher　than　his　own。　〃Follow　me！　Obey！〃
　〃We　hear。〃　The　ragged　chorus　rolled　forth。　The　wooden　stand；　the　earth；　vibrated　with　it。　〃We　follow；　and　obey。〃
　The　huge　war…drum　boomed　to　life　again；　and　from　the　crowd　went　up　the　loudest　roar　yet。　The　mad　celebration　resumed；　twice　madder　than　before。
　The　gods　on　the　parade　ground　were　climbing　ponderously　back　to　their　feet。　〃Surely　this　is　Father　Zeus！〃　Vulcan　cried　out；　pointing　with　a　tree…sized　arm　at　the　Dark　King。　〃He　who　has　been　playing　that　role　among　us　must　be　an　impostor！〃
　The　Smith's　divine　panions　roared　approval　of　this　statement；　and　launched　themselves　spontaneously　into　a　dance；　that　looked　at　once　ponderous　and　uncontrolled。　The　ground　shook；　Mark　could　see　the　tall　flagpole　swaying　in　front　of　the　King's　pavilion。　The　crowd　of　humans　in　the　vicinity　of　the　reviewing　stand　began　to　thin；　with　everyone　who　was　anywhere　near　the　dancing　gods　being　eager　to　move　back。　Yet　they　remained　under　the　Mindsword's　spell；　and　many　joined　the　dance。
　Mark　stood　drained；　exhausted；　leaning　on　his　own　Sword。　With　pain　stabbing　at　his　forehead；　and　blood　still　trickling　into　his　eye；　he　watched　the　maddened　gods　and　had　the　feeling　that　he　was　going　mad　himself。　But　surely　he　ought　to　have　expected　something　like　this。　If　one　of　the　Swords　could　kill　a　god　…　and　with　his　own　eyes　Mark　had　seen　Hermes　lying　dead；　the　wound　made　by　Farslayer　gaping　in　the　middle　of　the　Messenger's　back　…　then　why　should　not　another　Sword　have　power　to　make　slaves　of　other　gods？
　What　power　had　Vulcan　called　upon　to　forge　them；　that　was　greater　than　the　gods　themselves？
　And　was　he；　Mark；　the　only　being　here　still　capable　of　resistance？
　With　his　pain；　with　the　drip　of　his　own　blood　that　seemed　now　to　burn　like　poison；　he　could　no　longer　think。　But　maybe　he　could　still　act。
　He　gripped　Sightblinder　in　his　two　hands；　and　moved　for　the　third　time　to　try　to　kill　Vilkata。
　If　the　crowd　on　the　ground　was　moving　more　wildly　now；　it　was　thinner；　and　that　helped。　But　when　Mark　raised　his　eyes　to　the　Dark　King；　who　still　stood　on　the　platform；　the　Mindsword　dazzled　him　again；　sent　splintering　shafts　of　poisoned　light　into　his　brain。　He　was　stumbling　toward　the　sun　in　glory；　and　it　was　unthinkable　for　anyone　to　try　to　strike　the　sun。
　Vilkata；　the　god！　Holder　of　the　Mindsword；　he　who　must　be　adored！
　Mark　lifted　his　own　Sword　in　both　arms。　Then　he　realized　that　he　was　not　going　to　strike；　he　was　going　to　cast　down　Sightblinder　as　an　offering。　It　was　all　he　could　do　to　tear　himself　free。　Still　desperately　holding　onto　his　own　Sword；　lurching　and　stumbling；　he　fled　the　platform；　his　back　to　the　glory　that　he　dared　no　longer　face。　It　tugged　him　and　tore　at　him　and　urged　him　to　turn　back。　He　knew　that　if　he　turned　for　an　instant　he　was　lost。
　The　prisoner's　cage　loomed　up　ahead　of　him。　Someone　in　the　crowd　jostled　Mark；　turning　him　slightly　sideways　so　that　he　saw　the　cage　and　its　inmate　quite　clearly。
　With　no　consciousness　of　making　any　plan；　acting　on　impulse；　Mark　raised　the　Sword　of　Stealth　high　in　a　two…handed　grip；　and　brought　it　smashing　down　against　the　wooden　door　and　its　small　lock。　The　Sword's　magic　did　nothing　to　aid　the　blow；　but　its　long　weight　and　keen　edge　were　quite　enough。　The　cage　had　not　been　built　to　sustain　any　real　assault。　Mark　struck　again　and　the　door　fell　open。　Amid　the　pandemonium　of　jumping；　screaming　bodies　and　brandished　weapons；　no　one　paid　the　least　heed　to　what　he　was　doing。　The　earth　still　shook　under　the　tread　of　the　bellowing；　dancing　gods。
　He　sheathed　his　weapon　and　reached　in　with　both　hands　to　grasp　the　helpless　prisoner。　The　body　he　drew　forth　was　that　of　a　young　woman；　naked；　bound　with　both　cords　and　magic。　The　cords　fell　free　quickly；　at　a　touch　of　Sightblinder's　perfect　edge。　But　the　magic　was　more　durable。
　One　arm　about　the　prisoner；　half　carrying　and　half　pulling　her　through　the　frenzied　crowd；　Mark　headed　straight　away　from　the　reviewing　stand；　still　not　daring　to　look　back。　Whatever　the　people　around　saw　when　they　looked　at　him　now；　it　made　them　draw　back　even　in　their　frenzy；　leaving　his　way　clear。
　There　seemed　no　end　to　the　parade　ground；　or　to　Vilkata's　maddened　army。　With　each　retreating　step　the　pressure　of　the　Mindsword　eased；　but　only　infinitesimally。　Steps　added　up；　though。　Now　Mark　could　begin　to　think　again；　enough　to　begin　to　plan。　There；　ahead；　a　little　distance　in　the　crowd；　were　two　mounted　men　who　looked　like　minor　magicians　of　some　kind。　Mark　set　his　course　for　them；　dragging　the　still　stupefied　young　woman　along。
　The　magicians；　looking　half　stupefied　themselves　with　their　participation　in　the　Mindsword's　glamor；　paid　no　attention　as　Mark　approached。　These　two；　Mark　hoped；　did　not　rate　guardian　demons。　He　desperately　needed　transportation。
　Sightblinder　obtained　it　for　him；　quickly　and　bloodily；　working　with　no　more　magic　than　a　meat…axe。　Again；　in　the　general　surrounding　madness；　no　one　appeared　to　notice　what　was　happening。
　Mark　wrapped　the　girl　in　a　cloak　of　black　and　gold　that　one　of　the　magicians　had　been　wearing；　and　got　her　aboard　one　of　the　riding　beasts；　and　got　himself　aboard　the　other。　Once　in　the　saddle；　he　could　only　sit　swaying　for　a　moment；　afraid　that　he　was　going　to　faint；　watching　his　own　blood　drip　on　his　hands　that　held　the　reins。
　Somehow　he　got　moving；　leading　the　girl's　mount。　No　one　tried　to　interfere　with　them　as　they　fled　the　camp。　No　one；　as　far　as　Mark　could　tell；　even　took　notice。
　The　booming　of　the　war…drum　and　the　roaring　of　the　gods　followed　them　for　a　long　time；　pursuing　them　for　kilometers　of　their　flight　across　high　barren　lands。
　Chapter　6
　A　kilometer　or　two　upstream　from　Tashigang；　before　the　Corgo　split　itself　around　the　several　islands　that　made　parts　of　the　city；　the　current　was　slow　enough　that　Denis　the　Quick　could　make　fairly　good　time　paddling　his　light　canoe　against　it。　Here　it　was　possible　to　seek　out　places　in　the　broader　stream　where　the　surface　current　was　slower　still；　with　local　eddies　to　make　the　paddler's　task　less　difficult。　This　made　it　easy　for　Denis　to　stay　clear　of　the　other　river　traffic；　which　in　early　morning　was　mostly　barges　of　foodstuffs　and　other　merce　ing　downstream。　There　were　also　some　small　fishing　craft　out　on　the　river；　and　one　or　two　light