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The word was brought to the King； in his castle at Albemarle。 At last； he realized that a vast churl army lay hidden in the huge forest that was nearly at his doorstep。 So he summoned his Lords from the length and breadth of the kingdom and their armies with them； to raze the forest； if they had to； to wipe out the outlaws。
But DeCade didn't wait for His Majesty。 On the Wizard's advice； he marched out of the forest with a horde at his back； to storm the nearest castle and take it； by surprise and sheer weight of numbers。 He armed his men and moved on； his
army swelling into the tens of thousands as he marched。 He stormed and took castle after castle…until the King moved out of Albemarle。
The King marched out with a hundred thousand well armed Soldiers at his back； and five thousand Lords with laser rifles to watch the Soldiers。 He met DeCade at the field of Blancoeur and raised a clamor that clawed at the sky and brought vultures down； for； at the end of the battle； DeCade retreated； leaving a third of his men dead or dying。 The King marched after him and met him again at the foothills of Mont Rouge。 DeCade lost half his men before night； but darkness and a heavy overcast saved him； covering his retreat up the mountain to Champmortre； the bone…white； sun…bleached plateau high in the mountains near Albemarie。 There he had stationed his remaining men in a human parapet； armed with spears； bows； and a few captured laser rifles。 The King； in a rage； marched up against him； and the churls mowed his army down…till the archers ran out of arrows and the rifle power…packs ran dry。 Then the King scaled the heights and drove DeCade back to the center of the bald plain with his men grouped around him； fighting a last； desperate； doomed battle with no quarter given or asked； knives and swords against swords and lasers； each churl thinking only of how many Soldiers and Lords he could take with him； killing and dying in an orgy of blood…lust and vengeance； till the setting sun threw the long shadow of a ring of dead churls on the plain； and； within the ring only DeCade and the Wizard stood alive； back to back； with a circle of King's men outside the rampart of dead。 Then the King shouted the mand； but the Soldiers stood； surly； unwilling to attack DeCade。 Laser bolts crackled； the rearmost soldiers fell； screaming； and the rest pressed forward； flowing over the heap of corpses to press in。 Then DeCade's staff whirled； threshing out a crop of death； and hundreds of Soldiers died before they buried him under sheer weight of numbers。 Then the Lords broke his neck； broke his back； stripped his body and cut his flesh into ribbons； tore out his entrails to prophesy that the churls would never rise again； broke each separate bone in his body…and took up the golden staff； and broke it in two。
Then； as the shouting and madness subsided； they looked all about the plain； and found it filled only with dead。 The Wizard was gone。 They searched； but did not find him。 They never did。
Sated； the King and his men marched away； leaving DeCade's corpse to the vultures。 But the next day； the King realized that even DeCade's bones could threaten his peace。 A host of churls might rally around them。 He sent men to take the bones away and burn them。 But they came too late。 The giant body was gone； and the golden staff with it； never to be seen by Lordling or Soldier again。 Only the churls knew where he lay； beneath a great hollow mountain； the mountain from which the Wizard fled into the sky。 But he would return…oh yes。 He would return when the churls' time had e： he would return； to waken DeCade。 Then DeCade would ring the bell and march out to challenge the Lords； with new and magical weapons and a churl army behind him。 They would crush the Lords then； they would free all the churls。。。
Dirk took a long； deep breath； then； more loudly； he began to intone the last verse； after a few words； Hugh joined him； his voice a low chant； then Oliver joined； then the Merchants； then more； till all the prisoners together roared out the last lines； shaking the chamber around them：
Each worn knife and blade you must bury and save；
For when DeCade wakes and es out from his grave；
Then dig up the weapons that you have laid by；
And sharpen their edges and do not ask why…
For when my far towers drop down； from the skies；
DeCade shall call out； and all churls shall rise。
For Freedom！
The echoes faded； the chamber was still。 Each churl looked at his fellows； eyes glowing； filled with the fire of a Cause。
Dirk leaned back； drained and satisfied。 It was worth the risk。
Then armor jangled in the hall； a harsh voice bawled out； and he suddenly wasn't so sure。
The guard came into sight on the other side of the bars； carrying an ugly； short…barrelled weapon…a laser pistol。 He shoved it through the bars and glared around at the prisoners； eyes probing their faces。 〃All right。 Who started it？〃
Fifty…odd pairs of eyes swiveled toward him； chilled holes in hating masks。 The room was as quiet as a sepulcher。
Gar straightened； seeming to gather himself； his gaze being remote； abstracted。 Dirk took notice of it and frowned。
〃Somebody talk！〃 the guard snarled。 'Talk； or well pound you flat。 Oh； you'll be able to totter out into the arena； tomorrow…just barely！〃
His voice rang off the granite walls and was swallowed up in the cavern of fifty united minds。
The guard's lips writhed back with his snarl； the pistol rose。。。
〃And what will you do to the man who sang it？〃
Dirk looked up； startled。 The voice had e from Gar； but it was deeper； more resonant； almost seeming to e from someplace else。
The pistol tracked toward him； steadied。 〃Who asks？〃
Slowly； Gar stood…unhurried； easy： And ready。 〃What will you do？ Kill the man？ Will that hold the song from its ending？〃
The guard's eyes narrowed。 〃Are you saying you began it？〃
〃Why； no。〃 Gar moved toward him； easily； almost casually； slow movements hiding the speed of long strides。
〃You lie！〃
〃Why would I do such a horrible thing？〃 He was halfway to the guard。
The pistol flicked upward toward Gar's head。 〃Stand where you are！〃
〃Why？ Are you afraid to speak to my face？〃 Gar kept moving。 And suddenly； somehow； something clicked together in Dirk's mind； and it all made some sort of crazy sense。 Nothing he could say； but。。。 He rose to his feet and paced after Gar。
〃Stop！〃
〃Why？ I can e only as far as the bars；〃 Gar said reasonably。 〃Are you afraid of me even behind bars？〃
The prisoners watched…tense； ready。
Gar was a stride away from the bars。 The guard took a step back。 〃If you did it； say so！〃
〃But I didn't；〃 the strange voice purred。 Gar took the last stride and raised his fists to clasp the bars at shoulder level。 〃Would I be fool enough to talk this way if I had？〃
〃Then tell me who did！〃 The pistol rose level with Gar's eves。 〃Or I promise you； you'll die in his place！〃
Dirk ducked around between Gar and the bars。 〃I sang it！〃
The guard's eyes flicked down to him； startled； the muzzle wavered。
Gar's w