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！
and stabbed by half a dozen weapons； but no attacking point or blade could e far enough within the arc of the Sword of Force to reach his skin。
The Knight； tumbled from the saddle of his dying mount； rolled over on the ground； never losing his two…handed grip on the great Sword。 Even when Sir Andrew lay on his back it never faltered in its action。 And when he stood upright again； it was as if the Sword itself had pulled him up to fight。 Shieldbreaker seemed to drag him after it； spinning his heavy body with its violence； right to left and back again； pulling him forward to the attack when one of his attackers would have faltered and pulled away。
Still； those who an hour ago had been his loyal friends came on against him by the score； shrieking their new hatred； calling on their new god； the Dark King； to strengthen them。 Shieldbreaker fought them all。 It smashed their weapons and their bones impartially； carved up their armor and their flesh alike。
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