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ong … but perhaps for long enough。 He remembered now who he was； and what goal he had determined to acplish。 He still held Sightblinder's hilt in his right hand。 But。。。 to strike at Vilkata； possessor of the Mindsword。。。 how could anyone do that？ Or even plan to do it？
To strike at one who held the Mindsword might well be more than any mere human will could manage。 If once Mark summoned up the will to try； and failed； he was sure that he could never try again。
Even to work his way through the press of frenzied bodies on the platform； to get himself close enough to the Dark King to strike at him； was going to be difficult。 Get close to the Dark King； he ordered himself； forget for the moment why you are trying to get close。 He almost forgotten his bow； still slung in its accustomed place across his back。 And there were two arrows left。。。 he groped with a trembling hand； and found that there were none。 Spilled somehow in the jostling？ Or had some enthusiast's hand snatched them away？
He was going to have to strike with Sightblinder； then。 Even had his mind been clear； entirely his own； it would not have been easy。 Most of the people on the platform were also struggling to get closer to the Dark King； to touch him if possible； the ring of those who were closest； constrained to do all they could to protect the Mindsword's master； were striving to hold the others back。 Their task was perhaps made easier by the fact that Vilkata was swinging the Sword more wildly now； inspiring fear as well as ecstasy in those near enough to stand in some danger from the Blade。 There was still a cleared space of several meters directly around the king。
Mark elbowed room enough to let him draw Sightblinder … no one； he thought； was able to see that he was holding it； no magical guardians struck at him yet。
The small crowd atop the reviewing stand surged again； chatocially； as more people kept trying to climb on。 Inevitably at one edge； more people were pushed off。
Mark forced himself a little closer to Vilkata； but then was stopped； pushed back again。 This is impossible； he thought。 I cannot fail simply because I can't get through a crowd。 Still he dared not use the Sword to hack bodies out of his path； surely if he did that the magical defenses of the King would be triggered； and he would have no chance to strike the blow that really counted。
He had to get closer without killing。 He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes； and blindly bulled his way ahead。 His Sword； invisible to the people in his way； he held raised awkwardly above the jostling bodies that would otherwise have carved themselves on it。
But even as Mark scraped up new determination and tried again； the crowd surged against him； and its hundred legs effortlessly bore him even a little farther away。 The cause of this last surge was one of Vilkata's sweeps with the Mindsword。 Mark exerted one more great effort； and forced his way through； or almost through； but was deflected in the process to a place precariously near the platform's edge。
Now； one more effort。。。 but the Blade in the Dark King's hand came swinging heedlessly past； and grazed Mark's forehead。 The Dark King was laughing thunderously now； to see his courtiers duck and dodge in terror； and at the same time e pressing helplessly forward all the same。
Those next to Mark in the crush violently shoved back。 Tangled with others； he fell over the edge of the platform； others falling with him。 The distance to the ground was no more than a man's height； and the ground below was soft。 Mark landed with a shock； but without further injury。 By some miracle none of those falling with him had impaled themselves on Sightblinder； which lay on the soft earth under his hand。
He had failed； not heroically； but as by some demonic joke。 He grabbed up his Sword and got to his feet again。 Then he understood that he was hurt more than he had thought at first by Vikata's accidental stroke。 He could see blood； feel it and taste it； his own blood running down from his gashed forehead into his left eye。 A centimeter 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