fs.thethirdbookofswords-第42章
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She started to draw the Sword； and … at the same moment called out in a clear voice for her guards。 When they came pushing into the tent a moment later； they found their Queen quite alone； and Soulcutter safely in its sheath； though her hand on the hilt was poised as if for action。
The soldiers found themselves staring half…hypnotized at that hand； both of them hoping that they would be out of the tent again before the Sword was drawn； and already in the air around it； around themselves； they thought they could feel the backwash of a wave of emptiness。
Queen Yambu wasted no more time； but gave the orders necessary to get her troops into the state of final readiness for battle。 That done； she ordered an advance。
With Vilkata's ranks still no more than barely in sight； she waited in the middle of her own line； mounted on her famous gray warbeast； ready to draw the Sword of … of what？ As far as she knew； this one had only one name。
Now the enemy lines were creeping forward。 There； in their center； that would be Vilkata himself； waiting for the perfect moment in which to draw the weapon that he was gambling would be supreme。
The hand of Queen Yambu was on her own Sword's hilt。 She urged her mount forward； a little。 Not yet。
Now。
The Mindsword and Soulcutter were drawn； virtually simultaneously。
Her own first reaction； to the overwhelming psychic impact of her own Sword； was that she wanted to throw it away … but then she did not。 Because she could no longer see how throwing it away would make any difference； would matter in the least。
Nor did anything else matter。
Nothing else in the whole universe。
The Mindsword was a distant； irrelevant twinkle； far across the field； beneath the gloom of thunderclouds。 While near at hand； around Queen Yambu herself。。。
Those of her own troops who were closest to her had been looking at her when she drew。 After that they were indifferent as to where they looked。 Around her a wave of lethargy； of supreme indifference； was spreading out； a slow splash in an inkblack pool。
In the distance； but drawing rapidly nearer； a charge was ing。 Vilkata's troops； with maddened yells； the fresh inspiration of the Mindsword driving them。
Some of the Queen's soldiers； more and more of them with each passing second； were actually slumping to the ground now； letting their weapons fall from indifferent hands。 It appeared that they would be able to put up no resistance； that the Dark King might now be going to win easily。 But of course that did not matter either。
With berserker cries； the first of the Dark King's newly energized fanatics rushed upon them。 The defense put up by the soldiers in black and silver was at best half…hearted； and it was weaker the closer they were stationed to their Queen。
But the attackers； Vilkata's men and women； were now entering the region of Soulcutter's dominance。 It was their screams of triumph that faltered first； and then the energy with which they plied their weapons。 Next their ranks came to a jostling； stumbling halt。
The Queen of Yambu … not knowing； really； why she bothered … slowly raised her eyes。 The Sword she held above her head was so dull that it almost hurt the eyes to look at it。
The Sword of Despair … she had thought of the other name for it now。 Not that that mattered； either。 Not that or anything else。
Why was she bothering to hold the Sword so high？ She let her arms slump with its weight。 When her warbeast； puzzled and suffering； wanted to move； she let it go； sliding from its back。 She stood almost leaning on the Sword now； its point cutting shallowly into the earth。
Nor did any of that really mean anything； as far as she could tell。
The fighting that had begun； sporadically； was dying out。 Soulcutter was winning； all across the field。 If neither victory nor survival mattered； to anyone； there would be no battle。
Yambu was aware； though only dimly and indifferently； that so far the Dark King's weapon had been able to shield him； and a small group of his followers around him； from Soulcutter's dark； subtle assault。
That group began to charge toward her now； yelling warcries。 But its numbers shrank； and shrank more rapidly the closer it came to Queen Yambu。 One by one the people in it turned aside from the charge； to sit or kneel or slump to the ground； giving up the effort in despiar。
King Vilkata's demons were the last to desert him。 And even before that had happened； he himself had given up the attack and was in full flight from the field。
Rostov； out having a personal look around； turned his scouting squadron back when they came to the edge of the field。 Ahead of him the General could see what looked to him like the worst slaughter he had ever beheld； in a lifetime spent largely amid scenes of butchery。 There were two armies on the field； and as nearly as he could tell from this distance； both of them had been virtually wiped out。 But the General turned back； and ordered his soldiers back； not because of what he saw but because of what he felt； what they had all felt when trespassing upon the fringes of that grim arena。 Another few steps in that direction； thought Rostov； and he would have been ready to throw down his weapons and his medals and abandon life。
He was wondering what orders to give next； when he saw a giant figure appear in the distance。 With swift； powerful； two…legged strides it drew closer； also approaching the field of despair。 It was Draffut； called a god by some； although General Rostov had never seen the Lord of Beasts before； who else could this be？
There was someone else； a man…shape； riding familiarly on Draffut's shoulders。
Draffut did not approach Rostov and his scouting detachment； but instead halted at another point on the rim of that terrible battlefield。 There the giant stopped； and set down the man who had been riding on his shoulders； and from that point the man alone； a gray…caped figure bearing a bright Sword in hand； walked on alone into the field of doom and silence。
Rostov； puzzled； tried to make out where the man … was he wearing a mask？ … was headed。 Then the General realized that there was still one other human figure standing on the battlefield … way out there； at its center。
It was the Silver Queen； leaning on the blade that she was too immobilized to cast down。 When Rostov and his soldiers saw the Emperor take it from her hands； and sheath it； they could feel how a change for the better； came instantly over the nearby world。
The General turned to his troops； shouting： 〃They're not all dead out there！ Some of the Dark King's hellions are starting to wake up already！ What're you waiting for； get out there and disarm them while you can！〃
Epilogue
When the party of the surviving gods in their retreat had climbed above the snow level of the Ludus Mountains； the blind man they carried with them began to curse and rail at them again。 He ranted as if they were still under his mand； and Vulcan； listening； began to be sorry that he had picked the man up and brought him along。
The Smith still had other pany； present intermittently。 Gray…bearded Zeus； proud Apollo； Aphrodite； Hades。 They and some others came and went。 Hades was； as always； never far from his true domain； the Earth。 Diana had walked with them for a while； but had dropped out of the group early； saying only that she heard another kind of call。
Vilkata； the man they had brought with them； was shivering and in rags。 The golden circlet had fallen from his head days ago； and his power to mand demons had gone with it。 He kept groaning； whining that he'd lost his Sword。 He was raving now； demanding that food and slaves and wine be brought to him。
Why did I bring him with me？ Vulcan pondered once again。 The Smith himself had regained some of his strength since the servants of Ardneh； perceiving him as no longer violent and dangerous； had loosed his bonds and let him go。 But he was still far from what he once had been； and sometimes he feared that he was dying。
Apollo had told them all several times in the course of the retreat that they were all dying now； or would be soon； himself included。 The world had changed again； Apollo said。
The man they carried with them at least gave them all some connection to humanity。 Though Vulcan still did not want to admit they needed that。
He said now to the man perched on his shoulder； as if talking to some half…intelligent pet： 〃We might find some food for you somewhere。 But there is no wine … none that you can drink … and certainly no human slaves。〃
〃But I have you as my slaves；〃 the man rasped back。 Today his proud voice was weakening rapidly。 〃And you are gods； and goddesses。 Therefore all the Earth is mine。〃
From behind； Apollo asked： 〃You cannot feel it； little man？〃
〃Feel what？〃 He who had been the Dark King turned his blind face back and forth。 In a more lucid voice he demanded： 〃Where are we？〃 Then； a moment later； again： 〃Feel what？〃
Apollo said： 〃That the humans whose dreams created us； and gave us power； are now dreaming differently？ That our power； and our lives as well； have been draining from us； ever since we gave you Swords to use？〃
Among the gods there were still some who could persuade themselves to argue with this viewpoint。 〃It's all part of the Game。。。〃
〃The Game is over now。〃
〃Over？ But who won？〃
That one wasn't answered。
〃In the mountains； in the upper air； we'll start to feel strong again。〃
They trudged on； climbed on。 The capability of swift effortless flight had once been theirs。 Vulcan thought that none of them were starting to feel stronger。 In fact the thin air was beginning to hurt his lungs。
He would not have it； would not allow it to be so。 Bravely he cried out to Apollo： 〃You still say that we are their creations？ Bah！ Then who created them？〃
Apollo did not reply。
Occasional volcanic rumbles now shook the Earth beneath their feet； here and there subterranean warmth created bare steaming spots of rock amid the snow。
Their flight； their climb； was being slower and slower。 But it went on。 Now where was Aphrodite？ Vulcan looked around for her。 It was not as if she had departed； in the old； easy way； for somewhere else； he thought； she was simply and truly gone。
He had not seen Hades for a long time； either。
Vilkata sensed something。 〃Where are you all going？〃 the man shouted； or tried to shout。 〃I mand you not to disappear。 Turn round instead； take me back down to the world of humanity。 I'm going to freeze to death up here！〃
Vulcan had no wish to put up with the man's noise any longer； or with his weight that seemed to grow and grow； and the god cast the blind； mewing man aside； down a cliff into frozen oblivion； and moved on。
The Smith summoned up his determination； trying now to regain the purpose with which he had begun this climb； long days ago。 He mused aloud： 〃It was near here … near here somewhere … that I built my forge； to make the Swords。 I piled up logs； earth…wood； and lit them from the volcanic fires below。 If only I could find my forge again。。。〃
Presently he realized that he was now alone； the man having gone down a cliff somewhere； the last of his divine panions having vanished； as if evaporated upon the wind。 The last wrangling voice of them h
