按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
Denis； hypnotized by what he saw； no longer fully in control of his own actions； crept a little closer still。 He had a long knife at his own belt but he did not draw it。 It was as if the thought never occured to him that he might possibly make any difference in the fight that he was watching。
Sir Andrew's bodyguard； greatly outnumbered by berserk fanatics； were all down now； their' dead or dying bodies being hacked to pieces by their mad attackers。 But Shieldbreaker protected the man who held it。 It continued to make its sound； yet faster now and louder。 It worked on； its voice still dull despite its blinding speed； its dazzling arc。 It worked efficiently； indifferent as to whom or what it struck； indifferent to whatever screams or words went up from those it disarmed or cut apart； indifferent equally to whatever weapons might be plied against it。 Denis saw axe…heads； knives； sword…blades； shafts of spears and arrows； flying everywhere； whole and in a hail of fragments。 Human limbs and armor danced bloodily within the hail； and surely that bouncing； rolling object had once been a head。
The mouth of the Kind Knight opened and he screamed； surely a louder and more terrible roar than any ing from the folk he struck。 Denis； creeping closer still as if he were unable to help himself； saw that Sir Andrew was now covered with blood from head to foot。 It was impossible to tell if any of it might be his own。 But if he were wounded； still the mad vigor of his movements； energized by magic； continued unabated。
The Knight roared again； in greater agony than before。 Denis saw that Dame Yoldi； possessed； a creature of evil hatred； her face hideously transformed； was closing in on Sir Andrew。 Her hands were outspread like claws； as if to rend； and she cried out desperate spells of magic。 Even Denis the unmagical could feel the backwash of their deadly； immaterial power。
To the Sword of Force the tools of magic were no more than any other weapons。 They were dissolved and broken against that gleaming curve almost invisible with speed； that brutal thudding in the air。 Dame Yoldi's hatred propelled her closer； closer； to the man she would destroy； and closer still； until the edge of the bright arc of force touched her； hands first； body an eyeblink later； and wiped her away。
Denis saw no more for the next few seconds。 When he looked up again； there was a pause。 Sir Andrew stood alone now； knee…deep in a small mound of corpses； all in his own colors of orange and black。 The Sword in his hands still thudded dully； for those of his former friends who still survived as maddened enemies were not through with him yet。 A small knot of them； the wounded； those who had been slow to charge； the calculating； were gathering at a little distance； scheming some strategy； hatred forced into patient planning。
Denis hurried to Sir Andrew's side。 The young man thought； as he approached； that Sir Andrew was trying to hurl Shieldbreaker from him； the Sword was quieter now in the Knight's hands； its sound reduced to a muted tapping。 But if he was trying to be rid of it； it would not let him go。 Both of his hands still gripped it； fingers interlocked around the hilt； white…knuckled where the knuckles could be seen through blood。
Sir Andrew turned a hideous face to Denis。 The Knight's voice was a ghastly whisper； almost inaudible。 〃Go； catch up with the advance guard。 Find the man who is carrying Doomgiver； and order him in my name； and for the love of Ardneh； to return here as fast as he can。〃
Denis had hardly got out of sight in one direction before Sir Andrew； looking the opposite way； was able to see the main body of Vilkata's troops in the distance； a black…gold wave advancing toward him。 A trumpet sounded from that line。 On hearing it； such remnants of Sir Andrew's corrupted troops as were still on the field abandoned their hopeless attack； turning in obedient retreat to join the forces of their new master。
There； in the distance； that man； whitehaired and mounted under a gold…black banner； must be Vilkata himself。 In those distant hands a weapon that Sir Andrew knew must be the Mindsword flamed； the sun awakening in it all the fires of glory。 To Sir Andrew's eyes； it was not much more than a glass mirror； Shieldbreaker in his own hands protected him from that weapon too。 It negated all weapons except itself。
And it was quite enough； he thought； it had quite destroyed him already。
Again a horn sounded； somewhere over there in the army of the Dark King。 Next； to the Knight's numbed surprise； Vilkata's hosts that had only just appeared began a measured withdrawal； going back over the rise of land whence they had e。 Sir Andrew tried to think that over； his mind working in a newly confused way。 He supposed that to Vilkata's calculation the withdrawal was only sense： why order an army to chew itself to tatters； to no purpose； upon Shieldbreaker's unbreakable defense？
Sir Andrew might have pursued that army； he might have run screaming at that central banner bearing the black skull until everyone beneath it had been turned to chopped meat at his hands。 But they would not wait for him。 Vilkata was mounted and would get away。 And anyway he； Sir Andrew； was too weak to run； to pursue and catch up with anyone。
Now that the immediate threat to Sir Andrew himself was over； the strength of magic that had been given him through the Sword was draining rapidly away。 The dread sound of Shieldbreaker's hammer thumped more softly； tapping slower； tapping itself down into silence。
He saw himself as if from outside； an old man standing alone on a hill； knee…deep in corpses of those he once had loved。 His arms ached； as if they had been pounded by quarterstaffs； from the drill that Shieldbreaker had dragged them through。 Careless of the blood； he put the Sword into its sheath。
It was all Sir Andrew could do now to remain on his feet。
It was almost more than he could do； to go and look at what was left of Yoldi。
After that； trying to see his way through tears； he made his legs carry him away。 He was not sure where he was going； nor even of where he ought to go。 He got no farther than the next small hillock of the field； ing again within sight of the flimsy ruins of the carnival； when the great pain struck him inside his chest。 It felt like a spearthrust to the heart。
He collapsed on his back。 A fighter's instincts made him draw the great Sword again before he fell。 But he faced no weapons now； and the Sword of Force was lifeless。
As Sir Andrew lay in the grass the sky above him looked so peaceful that it surprised him。 He considered his pain。 It feels； he thought； as if my heart were bursting。 As perhaps it is。
He took a look back； quickly and critically； at what he could see at this moment of his own long life。 He found the prospect of death； at this moment； not unwele。
The pain came again； worse than before。
〃Yoldi。。。〃
But she did not answer。 She was not going to answer him ever again。
When it seemed that the pain was going to let him live yet a little longer； Sir Andrew flung Shieldbreaker away from him； using two hands and all of his remaining strength。 He had tried to throw the great Sword away before； tried again and again when he saw Yoldi running at him and realized what must have happened to her； and what was going to happen。 But the Sword's magic would not leave him then。 This time； now that it was too late； it left his hands as obediently as any stick thrown for a dog。 The blade whined faintly； mournfully； turning through the air。
The Knight did not want to die alone。 If only there could be a friend nearby … someone。
He closed his eyes； and wondered if he would ever open them on this world's skies again。 Would it be Ardneh that he saw when he opened his eyes again； as some folk thought？ Or nothingness？
He opened them and saw that he was still in the same world； under the same sky。 Something pelled him to make the effort to turn his head。 A single figure； that of a man in gray； was walking toward him from the direction of the carnival； the abandoned showplace that Sir Andrew had been perfectly sure was quite deserted。 A man； not armed or armored； but。。。 wearing a mask？
The gray…clad figure came close； and knelt down beside him like a concerned rade。
Sir Andrew asked： 〃Who're you？〃
The man raised a hand promptly and pulled off his mask。
〃Oh。〃 Sir Andrew's voice was almost disappointed in its reassurance。 〃You；〃 he said； relieved and calm。 〃Yes。。。 I know who you are。〃
Denis； returning mounted and at full speed； leading a small flying wedge of armed and armored folk who were desperate to relieve their beloved lord； found the battlefield deserted by the living。 Sir Andrew lay dead； at a little distance from the other dead。 His body； though covered with others' gore； was unmarked by any serious wound。 The expression on the Kind Knight's face was peaceful。
Presently Denis and the others began to look for Shieldbreaker。 They looked everywhere among the dead； and then in widening circles outward。 But the Sword of Force was gone。
Chapter 11
The field cot was wide enough for two … for two； at least； who were on terms of intimate friendship … but tonight； as for many nights past； only one person had slept in it。
Or tried to sleep。
The Silver Queen's field tent was not large； not for a shelter that had to serve sometimes as royal conference room as well as dwelling。 According to certain stories she had heard； it would not have made a room in the great pavilion that usually acpanied the Dark King when he traveled with his army。
She felt great scorn for many of the Dark King's ways。 But there were other things about him that enforced respect； and … to herself； alone at night； she could admit it … tended to induce fear as well。
The Queen of Yambu was sitting in near…midnight darkness on the edge of her lonely field cot； wearing the light drawers and shirt she usually slept in when in the field with her troops。 She could hear rain dripping desultorily upon the tent； and an occasional word or movement of one of the sentries not far outside。
Her gaze was fixed on a dim； inanimate shape； resting only an arm's length away beside the cot。 In midnight darkness it was all but impossible to see the thing that she was looking at； but that did not really matter； for she knew the object as well as her own hand。 It rested there on a trestle as it always did； beside her when she slept … or tried to sleep。 It was a Swordcase of carven wood； its huge wooden hilt formed by chiseled dragons with their long necks recurved； as if they meant to sink their fangs into each other。 Just where the case had originated； or when； the queen of Yambu was not sure； but she thought it beautiful； and after the best specialist magicians in her pay had pronounced it innocent of any harm for her； she had used it to encase her treasure； which she kept near her almost always … her visit to Sir Andrew in the swamp had been one notable exception … as her last dark hope for victory。
A thousand times she had opened the wooden case； but she had never yet drawn Soulcutter from its sheath inside。 Never yet had she seen the bare steel of that Blade in what she was sure must be its splendor。 She was afraid to do so。 But without it in her possession she would not have dared to take her army into the field now； risking bat with the Mindsword and its mighty owner the Dark King。
Some hours ago； near sunset； a winged half…intelligent messenger had brought her word of Vilkata's latest triumph。 He had apparently crushed what might have been Sir Andrew's entire army。 Then； instead of ing to attack her as she kept expecting he would do； Vilkata had turned his own vast forces in a move in the direction of Tashigang。
Maybe the Dark King's scouts had lost track of where her forces were。 But for whatever reason； her own certainty that she would be the first one attacked by Vilkata was proven wrong； and that gave cowardice a chance to whisper in her ear that it might not be too late for her to patch up an alliance with the King。 Of course cowardice； as usual； was an idiot。 Her intelligence told her that her only real hope lay in attacking the Dark King now； while she might still hope for some real help。 Sir Andrew was already gone。 When Tashigan