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ance。 This was another cloud； and it looked as unusual as the first。
This cloud was not rolling down a mountainside； only drifting through the air； but its path was at a right angle to those of other clouds and the wind。 Now the strange cloud was hovering； hesitating in its slow passage。 It appeared to be maintaining a certain cautious distance from the scene on the parade ground。 With Sightblinder still in hand； Mark could perceive in this second cloud also the presence of figures of human shape but divine dimensions。 There was one； a perfect essence of the female； that he thought could be only Aphrodite。 He could see none of the others so clearly as individuals； though all of their faces seemed to be turned his way。
The distraction had been only momentary。 Now Vulcan； made impatient by even a moment's temporizing on the part of this mere human king； thundered out some oath； and stretched forth his arm toward Vilkata。 With a swift motion the Dark King drew the Mindsword from its sheath … but not to hand it over in surrender。 Instead he brandished it aloft。
Vulcan cried out once； a strange； hoarse tone； like masses of metal and rock colliding。 The lame god threw up a forearm across his eyes。 He reeled backward； and fell to one knee。 Mark could feel in the ground under his own feet the impact of that fall。
Just behind the Smith； the four other deities who had e out of the cloud with him were kneeling also。
Once again a long moment of silence held throughout the camp。 The distant airborne cloud was moving faster now； departing at accelerated speed。 Mark gazed after it numbly for a moment。 The gods had failed。 The thousands of human beings massed around him were cheering once again。
Now Vilkata was speaking again。 After Vulcan's thunder the King's voice sounded puny； but it was triumphant and confident once again as he shouted an order to the kneeling gods； their heads still higher than his own。 〃Follow me！ Obey！〃
〃We hear。〃 The ragged chorus rolled forth。 The wooden stand； the earth； vibrated with it。 〃We follow； and obey。〃
The huge war…drum boomed to life again； and from the crowd went up the loudest roar yet。 The mad celebration resumed； twice madder than before。
The gods on the parade ground were climbing ponderously back to their feet。 〃Surely this is Father Zeus！〃 Vulcan cried out； pointing with a tree…sized arm at the Dark King。 〃He who has been playing that role among us must be an impostor！〃
The Smith's divine panions roared approval of this statement； and launched themselves spontaneously into a dance； that looked at once ponderous and uncontrolled。 The ground shook； Mark could see the tall flagpole swaying in front of the King's pavilion。 The crowd of humans in the vicinity of the reviewing stand began to thin； with everyone who was anywhere near the dancing gods being eager to move back。 Yet they remained under the Mindsword's spell； and many joined the dance。
Mark stood drained； exhausted； leaning on his own Sword。 With pain stabbing at his forehead； and blood still trickling into his eye； he watched the maddened gods and had the feeling that he was going mad himself。 But surely he ought to have expected something like this。 If one of the Swords could kill a god … and with his own eyes Mark had seen Hermes lying dead； the wound made by Farslayer gaping in the middle of the Messenger's back … then why should not another Sword have power to make slaves of other gods？
What power had Vulcan called upon to forge them； that was greater than the gods themselves？
And was he； Mark； the only being here still capable of resistance？
With his pain； with the drip of his own blood that seemed now to burn like poison； he could no longer think。 But maybe he could still act。
He gripped Sightblinder in his two hands； and moved for the third time to try to kill Vilkata。
If the crowd on the ground was moving more wildly now； it was thinner； and that helped。 But when Mark raised his eyes to the Dark King； who still stood on the platform； the Mindsword dazzled him again； sent splintering shafts of poisoned light into his brain。 He was stumbling toward the sun in glory； and it was unthinkable for anyone to try to strike the sun。
Vilkata； the god！ Holder of the Mindsword； he who must be adored！
Mark lifted his own Sword in both arms。 Then he realized that he was not going to strike； he was going to cast down Sightblinder as an offering。 It was all he could do to tear himself free。 Still desperately holding onto his own Sword； lurching and stumbling； he fled the platform； his back to the glory that he dared no longer face。 It tugged him and tore at him and urged him to turn back。 He knew that if he turned for an instant he was lost。
The prisoner's cage loomed up ahead of him。 Someone in the crowd jostled Mark； turning him slightly sideways so that he saw the cage and its inmate quite clearly。
With no consciousness of making any plan； acting on impulse； Mark raised the Sword of Stealth high in a two…handed grip； and brought it smashing down against the wooden door and its small lock。 The Sword's magic did nothing to aid the blow； but its long weight and keen edge were quite enough。 The cage had not been built to sustain any real assault。 Mark struck again and the door fell open。 Amid the pandemonium of jumping； screaming bodies and brandished weapons； no one paid the least heed to what he was doing。 The earth still shook under the tread of the bellowing； dancing gods。
He sheathed his weapon and reached in with both hands to grasp the helpless prisoner。 The body he drew forth was that of a young woman； naked； bound with both cords and magic。 The cords fell free quickly； at a touch of Sightblinder's perfect edge。 But the magic was more durable。
One arm about the prisoner； half carrying and half pulling her through the frenzied crowd； Mark headed straight away from the reviewing stand； still not daring to look back。 Whatever the people around saw when they looked at him now； it made them draw back even in their frenzy； leaving his way clear。
There seemed no end to the parade ground； or to Vilkata's maddened army。 With each retreating step the pressure of the Mindsword eased； but only infinitesimally。 Steps added up； though。 Now Mark could begin to think again； enough to begin to plan。 There； ahead； a little distance in the crowd； were two mounted men who looked like minor magicians of some kind。 Mark set his course for them； dragging the still stupefied young woman along。
The magicians； looking half stupefied themselves with their participation in the Mindsword's glamor； paid no attention as Mark approached。 These two； Mark hoped； did not rate guardian demons。 He desperately needed transportation。
Sightblinder obtained it for him； quickly and bloodily； working with no more magic than a meat…axe。 Again； in the general surrounding madness； no one appeared to notice what was happening。
Mark wrapped the girl in a cloak of black and gold that one of the magicians had been wearing； and got her aboard one of the riding beasts； and got himself aboard the other。 Once in the saddle； he could only sit swaying for a moment； afraid that he was going to faint； watching his own blood drip