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other； half expecting each moment to be his last； Ben fumbled his way down the face of the cliff toward the absolute darkness of the sea。
Chapter 2
The tall young man stood on the bank of a small； muddy stream； looking around him uncertainly in bright sunlight。 Even in broad day； and even with the distant mountains in the east to give a landmark； he could not be sure that the village he was looking for had ever existed on this spot。
Still； he was almost sure。
He could remember that most of the surrounding territory had once been prosperous farming and grazing land。 No more。 It was largely abandoned now。 And here； where the Aldan had once run clean and fair； this mucky and unrecognizable stream now followed a strangely altered course through a sadly altered countryside。 Even the distant mountains bore new scars。 So much had everything changed that the young man remained uncertain of precisely where he was until his eye discovered a portion of a remembered millwheel sticking up out of a bank of earth amid the dried stalks of last year's weeds。
Only one corner of one broad wooden blade was visible； but the young man knew what it was at once。 Staring at that cracked and splitting wood； he let himself sink down on the ground beside it。 This sitting was the heavy movement of an old man； though the youth could hardly have been more than twenty at the most。 His tanned face under its ragged growth of beard was still unlined； though from the expression in which it was set it seemed that lines ought to be there； and already the blue…gray eyes were old。
The bow and quiver that rode on the young man's broad back looked well…used； as did the long knife sheathed at his side。 He might have been a hunter or a ranger； perhaps a military scout。 Parts of his clothing and equipment were of leather； and some of these might once have been ponents of a more formal soldier's outfit。 If so； their identifying colors had long since been cut or bleached away。 The young man's hair was moderately short； as if it might be in the process of growing out from a close military or priestly cut。
He now put out a hand； large and tanned deeply like his face； and as rough…worn as his clothing。 With it he touched the visible corner of the decaying millwheel blade。 He let his hand rest there briefly on the old wood； as if he were trying to feel something in it。 Meanwhile he raised his eyes toward the eastern mountains。
There was a faint sound behind the young man； as of someone or something moving through the thicket there to the west。 He turned quickly； without getting up； then sat still； watching the thicket carefully。 In his position he was half hidden by the rise of the earthen bank。
Presently a half…grown boy dressed in ragged homespun emerged from the scrubby growth of bushes。 The boy was carrying a pail crudely fashioned out of bark； and was obviously ing to the stream for water。 He was almost at the water's edge before he caught sight of the motionless young man watching him； and came to a vaguely alarmed halt。
An Emperor's child for sure； the young man thought； surveying that small dirty figure in wretched clothing。 〃Hello； young one；〃 he said aloud。
The boy did not answer。 He stood there holding the empty pail； shifting his weight from one bare foot to the other as if uncertain whether he ought to run away or try to go on about his business。
〃Hello； I say。 Have you been living around here very long？〃
Still no answer。
〃My name's Mark。 I mean you no harm。 I used to live near here myself。〃
Now the boy moved again。 Still keeping a wary eye on Mark； he waded into the stream。 He bent his head to fill the pail； then looked up； tossing back long greasy hair。 He said： 〃We been here a year now。〃
Mark nodded encouragingly。 〃Five years ago；〃 he said； 〃there was a whole village here。 A big sawmill stood right about where I'm sitting now。〃 And he moved a hand in a vague gesture that ought to have included the village street。 Only five years ago； he marveled silently。 It seemed impossible。 He tried without success to visualize this boy as one of the smaller children in the village then。
〃That's as may be；〃 the boy said。 〃We came here later。 After the mountains burst and the gods fought。〃 〃The mountains burst； all right；〃 Mark agreed。 〃And I don't doubt that the gods fought too。。。 what's your name？〃 〃Virgil。。。〃
〃A good name。 You know； when I was your size； I played here along this stream。 It was a lot different then。〃 Mark felt a sudden need to make someone understand just how totally different it had been。 〃I swam here； I caught fish。。。 〃
He broke off。。。 Someone else was ing down through the thicket。
A woman emerged； as ragged and dirty as the boy。 Her walk was the walk of age； and much gray showed in her disordered hair。 A dirty bandage covered both her eyes。 Mark could see the ends of scars showing past the edges of the cloth。
Just at the edge of the thicket the blind woman halted； one hand touching a bush … as if by that means she could assure herself of her position。 〃Virgil？〃 she called out。 It was a surprisingly young voice； and it carried fear。 〃Who's there？〃
〃One lone traveler； ma'm；〃 Mark called in answer。 At the same time the boy replied with something reassuring； and came out of the water with his filled pail。
The woman turned her face in Mark's direction。 There were indications in that face that she was still young； even evidence that a few years ago she might have been called pretty。 She called toward Mark harshly： 〃We don't have much。〃
〃I don't want anything you have。 I was just telling the young man that I used to live nearby。〃 Virgil put in： 〃He says he was here five years ago。 Before the mountains burst。〃
Mark was on his feet now； and approached a little closer to the woman。 〃I'll be going right along； ma'm。 But could you tell me one thing first； maybe？ Did you ever hear any word of the family of Jord the Miller？ He was a big man with only one arm。 Had a wife named Mala and a daughter； Marian； real blue…eyed and fair。 Daughter'd be in her twenties now。 They lived right here on this spot； five years ago； when Duke Fraktin was alive and claimed this land。〃
〃Never heard of any of 'em；〃 the woman said at once in her hard young voice。 〃Five years ago we weren't here。〃
〃None of the old villagers were here when you arrived？〃
〃No one。 There was no village。〃
And the boy Virgil said； as if repeating a lesson learned： 〃The Silver Queen now holds dominion over this land。〃
〃Aye；〃 said Mark。 〃I know she claims that。 But I suppose you don't see her soldiers way out here very often？〃
〃I don't see them at all。〃 The woman's harsh voice was no harsher than before。 〃The last time I saw them was when they blinded me。 We ceased our wandering； then。〃
〃I'm sorry；〃 Mark said。 In his heart he cursed all soldiers； at the moment he did not feel like one himself。
〃Are you one of her army too？ Or a deserter？〃
〃Neither； ma'm。 〃
Virgil asked Mark unexpectedly： 〃Were you here when the gods were fighting among themselves？ Did you see them？〃
Mark didn't answer。 He was trying to discern in the bandaged face of the blind woman the countenance of any of the village girls he could remember。 But it was useless。
Young Virgil； evidently feeling braver now； persisted。 〃Did you ever see the gods？〃
Mark looked at him。 〃My father did。 But I have only seen them in…visions； and that only once or twice。〃 He made himself smile。 〃In dreams； no more than that。〃 Then； seeing that the woman had turned her back on him and was about to retreat into the thicket again； he called to her： 〃Let me walk with you； back up the hill； if that's the way you're going。 I won't be any bother to you。 A manor house stood up there once； and I want to see if anything is left of it。〃
The woman made no reply； but moved on； groping her way from bush to bush along what must be a familiar path。 The boy came after her； carrying the pail of water in silence。 Then Mark。 The three of them climbed more or less together along the path worn through the hillside thicket。
When they reached the top of the little hill Mark could see how little was left of Sir Sharfa's manor house。 The great stone hearth and chimney remained； and almost nothing else。 Against the chimney a crude lean…to shelter had been built from scraps of wood。 From inside the shelter came a snoring sound； and a man's bony hand and wrist were visible in the muddy doorway； their owner evidently lying on the floor inside。 The snore sounded unhealthy； as if the man emitting it were drunk or dying。 Maybe he was both； thought Mark。
The boy； who had put his pail down now； was not ready to abandon the subject of the gods。 〃Mars and Draffut had their fight right over on those mountains；〃 he resumed suddenly； pointing to the east。 〃And the twelve magic Swords were forged right up there。 Vulcan kidnapped a smith and six men from a village； to help him make 'em。 Afterwards he killed the six men； and he took off the smith's arm。。。 〃 Virgil stopped rather suddenly。 He was looking at Mark； with the expression of a boy who has suddenly remembered something。
〃How do you know how many Swords there were？〃 Mark asked him。 It amazed Mark how knowledge spread … or how； sometimes； it seemed determined on remaining secret。 It was almost twenty years now； he knew； since the twelve Swords had been forged； and half a dozen years ago still only a few people in the whole world had known about them。 And now it seemed that the whole world knew。
The boy looked at him； as if Mark had asked how it was known that a woolbeast had four legs。 〃Twelve Swords； that's how many there were。 Everyone knows that。〃
〃Oh。〃
Virgil's eyes were intense； his voice hurried。 〃But Hermes played a joke on all the other gods。 He gave the Swords only to mortals； and he scattered them all across the world。 Each Sword went to a different man or woman to start with； and none of the gods got any themselves。 And each Sword gave whoever got it a different kind of power。〃
〃Oh。〃 It was true； for the most part anyway。 He didn't want to appear to possess superior knowledge； and he didn't know quite what to say。 〃Why would Hermes have done a thing like that？〃
〃Part of the game that the gods play with each other。 Aye； he scattered them and gave them all to people。 I wish I could have got one。〃
Mark was looking at the woman； who stood leaning with one hand on the shelter； blindly listening。 The man inside snored on。 Suddenly Mark felt a great necessity to do something for these people； maybe he could at least shoot them a rabbit or two before he left。 And then … yes； he had decided now。 There was something much more important that he was going to do for them； and thousands like them。
Virgil asked him： 〃Did you say that the miller only had one arm？ Was he your father？〃
Mark studied him a moment； then put another question in return。 〃If you had one of those Swords； what would you do with it？ Hide it away somewhere？〃
The boy's expression showed he thought that question was insane。 〃Whoever gets all those Swords into his hands will rule the world。〃
〃Aye；〃 said Mark。 〃But if you had one？ Coinspinner； maybe。 What then？ What would you do with it？ Try to rule a twelfth of the world； or what？〃
Neither of his listeners answered him。 Maybe he had scared them now。 But now that he'd started he couldn't stop。 〃What would you say about a man who knew where one of those Swords was hidden？ Maybe Dragonslicer。。。 a man who could go and get it； but he just let it stay hidden。 When there's so many wrong things in the world； like。。。 when there's so much that needs to be set right。〃
The woman's scarred and blinded face turned slowly back and forth。 She was shaking her head。 〃You'll straighten out the wrongs of the world； young man？ You might as well set out to serve the Emperor。〃
Chapter 3
In darkness Ben continued his methodical struggle to work his way down the face of the cliff。 Whenever he could he made a little headway south along its face as well。 The plan he had in mind required that he go south。 It was a simple p