fs.thethirdbookofswords-第20部分
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g 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 sailboats that appeared to be out purely for pleasure。 Here above the city there were no ships of ocean…going size； such as plied the reaches downstream from Tashigang to the sea。
Two kilometers upstream from the walls； Denis reached the first sharp upstream bend of the Corgo and looked back again； ceasing to paddle as he sought a last glimpse of the high towers。 Visible above the morning mist that still rose from the river； the lofty walls and battlements caught rays of the early morning sun。 Here and there upon the venerable masses of brown or gray stone； glass or bright metal sparkled； in windows； ornaments； or the weapons of the Watch。 On several high places the green and gray of the city's own colors were displayed。 Upon the highest pole； over the Lord Mayor's palace； a single pennant of black and silver acknowledged the ultimate sovereignty of Yambu。
As he paddled farther upstream； Denis's canoe passed between shores lined with the villas of those wealthy citizens who felt secure enough about the prospects of long…term peace to choose to live outside the city walls。 These were impressive houses； each fortified behind its own minor defenses； capable of holding off an occasional brigands' raid。
Independent villas soon gave way to suburbs of somewhat less impressive houses； built together behind modest walls； and these in turn to farms and vineyards。 These lands like Tashigang itself were tributary to the Silver Queen； though enjoying a great measure of independence。 Yambu in her years of domination had maintained general peace and order here； and had wisely been content to levy no more than moderate tribute and to allow the people to manage their own affairs for the most part。 Tribute flowed in regularly under such a regime； and the Queen built a fund of goodwill for herself。 Meanwhile she had been busy venting her aggressive energies elsewhere。
Pausing once to eat and rest； Denis made an uneventful first day's journey up the river。 By evening he was far enough from the city's center of population to have no trouble in locating a small island that offered him a good spot to camp。 He even succeeded in catching a suitable fish for his dinner； and was rather pleased with this success in outdoor skills。
On the second day he got an early start again。 He had a worker's calloused hands and did not mind the constant paddling overmuch； the healed wound in his forearm did not trouble him at all。 This day he kept a careful eye out for certain landmarks； as Ben had instructed him。 Around noon he was able to identify without any trouble the tributary stream he wanted； a small river that entered the Corgo on a winding course from the northeast。 This smaller river；。 here called the Spode； drained a portion of the Great Swamp … it did not； unfortunately； lead directly to the part where Sir Andrew and his army were likely to be found。 To reach that； Denis would have to make a portage later。
The voyager passed three or four more days in similarly pleasant journeying。 Each day he saw fewer people； and those he did see usually greeted the acolyte of Ardneh with friendly waves。 Some offered him food； some of which he graciously accepted。
Denis spent much of his mental time in wondering about his hidden cargo。 He knew something now at first hand about the Sword of Mercy。 But what exactly did the Sword of Justice do？ Denis had not wanted to ask； lest they believe he was pondering some scheme of running off with it。 （The treacherous thought had crossed his mind； in the guise of yet another delicious daydream。 So far … so far … his other； fiercer feelings had kept him from being really tempted by it。）
And Ben had not thought it necessary to discuss the qualities of the Sword of Justice with Denis at any length。 The master of the House of Courtenay had said only one thing on the subject。
〃Denis； if it does e down to your having to fight someone on the way； I'd remend you get Doomgiver out and use it； if you have the chance。 Don't try to fight with Woundhealer； though。 Not if your idea is to carve up someone instead
