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ught； though not before taking a moment in which to examine it with deliberate care。 Then she looked hard at her husband。 〃And you called me Barb； too； once； down there in his hearing。〃
〃Did I？〃 He'd thought he'd broken himself long ago of calling her that。 Ben … he never really thought of himself as 〃of Purkinje〃 … heaved a great sigh。 〃So； anyway； the Blue Temple has caught up with me。 It probably doesn't matter what Denis overheard。〃
〃And they've caught up with me； too；〃 she reminded him sharply。 〃And with your daughter； whether they were looking for us or not。 It looked like they were ready to wipe out the household if they could。〃 She paused。 〃I hope they haven't located Mark。〃
Ben thought that over。 〃There's no way we can get any word to him quickly。 Is there？ I'm not sure just where he is。〃
〃No； I don't suppose we can。〃 Barbara； tightening the belt on her clean robe； shook her head thoughtfully。 〃And they came here right on the heels of the courier … did you notice that？ They must have been following him somehow； knowing that he'd lead them to us。〃 〃Too much of a coincidence otherwise。〃
〃Yes。 And the alliance still holds； I suppose； between Blue Temple and the Dark King。〃
〃Which means the Dark King's people may know about the courier too。 And about what we have in our possession here； that the courier was going to take away； if the rest of the shipment ever arrives。〃 He heaved another sigh。
〃What do we do； Ben？〃 His wife spoke softly now； standing close to him and looking up。 At average height he towered over her。
〃At the moment； we try to keep the courier alive； and see if he can tell us anything。 About Denis we're just going to have to trust him； as I say。 He's a good man。〃
He was about to open the bedroom door； but his wife's small hand on his arm delayed him。 〃Your hands；〃 she reminded him。 〃Your robe。〃
〃Right。〃 He poured water into a basin and quickly washed his hands； then changed his robe。 Half his mind was still down in the workshop； reliving the fight。 Already in his memory the living bodies he had just broken were taking on the aspects of creatures in some awful dream。 Te knew they were going to e back later to assail him。 Later perhaps his hands would shake again。 It was always like this for him after a fight。 He had to try to put it out of his mind for now。
While he was getting into his clean robe； Barbara said； 〃Ben； as soon as I saw that the man had only one arm； you know what I thought of。〃
〃Mark's father。 But Mark always told us that his father was dead。 He sounded quite sure of it。〃
〃Yes； I remember。 That he'd seen his father struck down in their village street。 But just suppose。。。〃
〃Yes。 Well； we've got enough to worry about as it is。
In another moment they were quietly making their way downstairs together。 The house around them was as quiet now as if everyone were really sleeping。 Ben could picture most of his workers lying awake； holding their breaths； waiting for the next crash。
In Denis's room on the ground floor they found the young man； his face pale under his dark hair； sitting watch over a stranger who still breathed； but barely。 The mistress immediately went to work； improving on her first effort at bandaging Denis's arm。 Ben thought he could see a little more color ing slowly back into the youth's cheeks。
And now； for the third time since midnight； a noise at the back door。 This time a modest tapping。
Something in Ben wanted to react with laughter。 〃Gods and demons； what a night。 My house has turned into the Hermes Gate to the High Road。〃
And now； for the third time； after making sure that his wife and his assistant were armed and as eady for trouble as they could get； Ben maneuvered light and lenses to look out into the narrow exterior passage。 This time； as he reported to the others in a whipser； there were two human figures to be seen outside。 Both appeared to be men； and both were robed in white。
〃It looks like two of Ardneh's people。 One's carrying a big staff that。。。〃 Ben didn't finish。 Barbara caught his meaning。
Those outside； knowing from the light that they were under observation from within； called loudly： 〃Master Courtenay？ We've brought the wooden model that you've been waiting for。〃
〃Ah；〃 said Ben； hearing a code that gave him reassurance。 Still he signed to his panions to remain on guard； before he cautiously opened the door once more。
This time the opening admitted neither a toppling body nor an armed rush。 There was only the peaceful entry of the two in white； who as Ardneh's priests saluted courteously first the master of the house and then the people with him。 Denis； this time holding his hatchet left…handed； was glad to be able to lower it again。
White robes dripped water on a floor already freshly marked by rain and mud and blood。 If the newers noticed these signs of preceding visitors； they said nothing about them。
Instead； as soon as Ben had barred up the door again； the older of the two whiteclad priests offered him the heavy； ornate wooden staff。 It was obviously meant to be a ceremonial object of some kind； too large and unwieldy to be anything but a burden on a march or a hike。 Tall as a man； cruciform in its upper part； the staff was beautifully carved out of some light wood that Denis could not identify。 The uppermost portion resembled the hilt of a gigantic wooden sword； with the heads and necks of two carved dragons recurving upon themselves to form the outsized crosspiece。
〃Beautiful；〃 mented Denis； with a sudden dry suspicion。 〃But I wonder which of Ardneh's rites requires such an object？ I saw nothing at all like it in the time I spent as acolyte。〃
The two white…garbed men looked at Denis。 Then they turned in silent appeal to the man they knew as Master Courtenay。 He told them tiredly； 〃You may show us the inside of the wooden model too。 Denis here is fully in my confidence； as of tonight。 He's going to have to be。〃
Denis stared for a moment at his master； who was watching closely what the priests were doing。 The younger priest had the staff now； and was pressing carefully with strong fingers on the fancy carving。 In a moment； the wood had opened like a shell； revealing a velvet…lined cavity inside。 Hidden there； straight iron hilt within wooden crosspiece； was a great Sword。 The plain handle； of what Denis took to be some hard black wood； was marked in white with a small symbol； the outline of an open human hand。 The Sword was in a leather sheath； that left only a finger's…breadth of the blade visible； but that small portion of metal caught the eye。 It displayed a rich mottling； suggesting centimeters of depth in the thin blade； beneath a surface gleam of perfect smoothness。 Only the Old World； or a god； thought Denis； could have made a blade like that。。。 and Denis had never heard of any Old World swords。
〃Behold；〃 the elder priest of Ardneh said； even as the hand of the younger drew forth the blade out of its sheath。 〃The Sword of Mercy！〃
And still Denis needed another moment … but no more than that … to understand fully what he was being allowed to see。 When understanding came； he first caught his breath； and then released it in a long sigh。 By now almost everyone in the world had heard of the Twelve Swords； though there were probably those who still doubted their reality； and most had never seen one。 The Swords had been forged some twenty years ago； the more reliable stories had it； created； all the versions of the legend agreed； to serve some mysterious role in a divine Game that the gods and goddesses who ruled the world were determined to enjoy among themselves。 And if this wonderous weapon were not one of those twelve Swords； thought Denis。。。 well； it was hard to imagine what else it could be。 In his time at the House of Courtenay he had seen some elegant and valuable blades； but never before anything like this。 There were twelve of them； all of the stories agreed on that much。 Most of them had two names； though some had more names than two； and a few had only one。 They were called Wayfinder； and Farslayer； and the Tyrant's Blade； there were the Mindsword； and Townsaver； and Stonecutter； called also the Sword of Siege。 There were Doomgiver； Sightblinder； Dragonslicer； Coinspinner and Shieldbreaker and the Sword of Love； that last thrice…named； also as Woundhealer and the Sword of Mercy。
And； if any of the tales had truth in them at all； each Sword had its own unique power； capable of overwhelming all lesser magics； bestowing on its owner some chance to rule the world； or at least to speak on equal terms with those who died。。。
The older priest had carefully accepted the naked Sword from the hands of the younger； and now Denis observed with a start that the old man was now approaching him； Denis； with the heavy weapon held out before him。 Half…raised as if in some clumsy system of attack； it wobbled slightly in the elder's hands。
Even in the mild lamplight the steel gleamed breathtakingly。 And Denis thought that a sound was ing from it now； a sound like that of human breath。
Whether he was manded to hold out his wounded arm； or did so automatically； Denis could not afterwards remember。 The room was very quiet； except for the faint slow rhythmic hiss that the Sword made； as if it breathed。 The old man's thin arms； that looked as if they might never have held a weapon before in all his life； reached out。 The blade； looking keener than any razor that Denis had ever seen； steadied itself suddenly。 It moved now as if under some finer control than the visibly tremulous grip of the old priest。
And now the broad point had somehow； without even nicking flesh； inserted itself snugly underneath the tight bandage binding Denis's forearm。 The bloodstained white cloth； cut neatly； fell away； and the Sword's point touched the wound directly。 Denis； expecting pain； felt instead an intense moment of something else； a sensation unique and indescribable。 And then the Sword withdrew。
Looking down at his arm； Denis saw dried blood； but no fresh flow。 The dried； brownish stuff brushed away readily enough when he rubbed at it with his fingers。 Where the dried blood had been； he saw now a small； fresh； pink scar。 The wound looked healthy； easily a week or ten days healed。
It was at this moment； for some reason； that Denis suddenly remembered something about the man who； the legends said； had been forced to assist Vulcan in the forging of the Swords。 The stories said of that human smith that as soon as his work was done he had been deprived of his right arm by the god。
〃It is shameful； of course；〃 the elder priest was saying； 〃that we must keep it hidden so； and sneak through the night with it like criminals with their plunder。 But if we did not take precautions； then those who would put Woundhealer to an evil use would soon have it in their possession。〃
〃We will do our best；〃 the lady of the house assured him； 〃to keep it from them。〃
〃But at the moment；〃 said the master； 〃we have a problem even more immediate than that。 Sirs； if you will； bring the Sword this way with you； and quickly。 A man lies dying。〃
Denis led the way； and quickly opened the door to his own room。 The master stepped in past him； and indicated the still figure on the bed。 〃He arrived here not an hour ago； much as you see him。 And I fear he is the courier who was to have carried on what you have brought。〃
The two priests moved quickly to stand beside the bed。 The young one murmured a prayer to Draffut； God of Healing。 The first quick touch of the Sword was directly on the wound still bleeding in the side of the unconscious man。 Denis； despite his own experience of only moments ago； could not keep from wincing involuntarily。 It was hard to imagine that that keen； hard point would not draw more blood； do more harm to human flesh already injured。 But the slow red ooze from the wound； instead of increasing； dried up immediately。 As the Sword moved away； the packing that Denis had put into the wound pulled out with it。 The cloth hung there； stuck by dried blood to the skin。
Feeling a sense of unreality； Denis passed his hand over his eyes。
Now the Sword； still in the hands of Ardneh's elder servant； moved down to touch the wound on the exposed knee。 This time when the bare metal touched him； the man on the b