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Chapter 13
The little column of refugees was posed for the most part of cumbersome carts and loadbeasts； and for several days it had been moving with a nightmarish slowness over the appalling roads。 Now and again it left the roads； where a bridge had been destroyed or the only roads ran in the wrong directions； to go trundling off across someone's neglected fields。 In this manner the train of carts and wagons had made its way toward Tashigang。 The people in the train； all of them villagers or peasants who had been poor even before the war started； were fearful of the Dark King's cavalry； and with good reason。 Behind them the land was death and ruin； under a leaden sky hazed at the horizon with the smoke of burning villages。 The wooden…wheeled carts groaned with their increasing burden of people who could walk no more； and of the poor belongings that the people were still stubbornly trying to keep。 The loadbeasts； in need of food and most of all of rest； uttered their own sounds of protest。
Riding in the second wagon were four people； a man named Birch and his wife Micheline； along with their two small children。 The man was driving at the moment； urging on their one loadbeast that pulled the wagon。 In general he kept up a running stream of encouraging ments； directed at the animal and at his family indiscriminately。 He was not getting too much in the way of answers。 His wife had said very little for several days now； and the children were too tired to speak。
Just now the train of wagons was ing to a place where the poor road dipped between hills that had once been wooded； to ford a small； muddy stream。 Most of the trees on the hills looked as if they might have been individually hacked at by a hundred axes； then pulled apart by a thousand arms； of people needing firewood or wood for other uses； quite likely someone's army had camped near here not long ago。
The little train of half a dozen wagons and carts now stopped at the ford。 All of the travelers wanted to let their animals drink； and the people who were not carrying fresher water with them in their vehicles drank from the stream too。 Birch and his family did not get out of their cart。 At this point they were not so much thirsty as simply dazed and exhausted。
While the pany of refugees was halted thus； a patrol of the Dark King's cavalry did indeed e into sight。 Those who were sitting in their wagons or standing beside them held their breath； watching fatalistically。 But the patrol was some distance off； and showed little interest in their poor pany。
They were greatly relieved。 But hardly had the cavalry ridden out of the way when one of the women stood up in her wagon screaming； and pointed in a different direction。
Over one of the nearby hills； studded with its broken trees like stubble on a tough chin； the head and shoulders of a god had just appeared。 There was more nearby smoke in the air in that direction； from some farm building on the other side of the hill burning perhaps； or it might have been a haystack or a woodpile smoldering； and the effect of seeing the god's figure through this haziness was somehow to suggest a truly gigantic figure kilometers away； moving about； at the distance of an ordinary horizon。
Birch； the man in the second cart； froze in his position on the driver's seat。 His wife； Micheline； who was sitting beside him had clamped a painful grip upon his arm； but he could not have moved in any case。 Behind them； peering out from where they had been tucked away amid furniture in the large two…wheeled cart； their two small children were frozen too。
Birch could tell at first glance that the mountainous…looking god ing over the hill was Mars。 He could make the identification at once by the great spear and helm and shield of the approaching being's equippage； even though the man had never before seen any deity and had not expected to see one now。
Mars was almost directly ahead of the people in their wagons； advancing toward them from almost the same direction that the train was headed。 And the War…god had certainly taken notice of them already； Birch thought for a moment that those distant eyes were looking directly into his own。 Now Mars； marching forward out of the smoke； appeared as no more than three times taller than a man。 Now he was lowering his armored helm as if in preparation for battle； and still he tramped thunderously nearer； a moving mountain of a being； kicking stumps and boulders out of his way。
He was descending the near side of the nearest hill now； taller than the treetops of the ruined grove as he moved among them。 Before Birch could think of any way he might possibly react； Mars had reached the muddy little ford。
Once there； he raised his arms。 Looking preoccupied； as if his divine thoughts were elsewhere； and without preamble or warning； he spitted the man who had been driving the first wagon neatly on his spear； which was as long as a tall tree itself； and only a little thinner。 That man's wife and children came spilling around him from their cart； and rolling on the ground as if they could feel the same spear in their own guts。
Mars moved quickly； and came so close that he was hard to see； like a mountain when you were standing on it。 Birch felt his own wagon go over next。 If that great spear had thrust for him too； it had somehow missed。 All Birch could feel was a fall that left him half stunned； and then a growing pain in his leg and hip； and a numbness that threatened to grow into a greater pain still； and the awareness that he could not move。 Near him Micheline and the children lay huddled and jumbled in the midst of their spilled belongings。 Except for Birch himself they all appeared to be unhurt； but Micheline was gasping and the children whimpering softly in new terror。 Still connected to the wagon by the leather straps of the harness； their only loadbeast lay twitching； its whole body crumpled into an impossible position。 It had been slaughtered； butchered by a mere gesture from the passing God of War。
Mars' windstorm of a voice roared forth； above the cowering humans' heads： 〃What's all this talk I hear； these last few years； about twelve special Swords？ I've never seen them and I don't want to。 What's so great about them； really？ Can anyone here answer me that？ My war…spear here does the job as neatly as it ever did。〃
If the god was really talking to the humans he had just trampled； and whether he expected any of his surviving victims to actually enter into a dialogue； Birch never knew。 The voice that did rumble an answer back at Mars was deeper and louder by far than any human tones could be。 It came rolling down at them from the hillside on the other side of the ford； and it said： 〃Your spear has failed you before； Wargod。 It will again be insufficient。〃
Birch did not recognize that voice。 But Mars did； for Birch saw him turn； with an expression suddenly and almost madly joyful； to face its owner。 The God of War cried out： 〃It is the dog！ The great son of a bitch that they call the Lord of Beasts。 At last！ I have been looking for you for a long time。〃
Birch was still lying on his back； aware that Micheline and the children were still at his side； and evidently still unhur