fs.thethirdbookofswords-第19部分
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g 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 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
