The Wargod remained determined to put a good face on the whole situation. “But he was forced to put away the one that annoyed us.” As usual, his tone was bellicose.
“Annoyed!”
Hermes went on to insist that dropping Soulcutter into the pit had been a serious mistake, in fact a debacle had resulted. Other gods must have been at least somewhat affected. They were going to be angry about having been put at risk.
Mars, still struggling against the lingering effects of Soulcutter, refused to tolerate such an attitude. The very idea, that a god could be endangered, not simply inconvenienced, by Sword-powers!
Mars darted away, but soon came back. He had argued or bargained or bullied another of his colleagues into loaning him another Sword, which happened to be Stonecutter.
Again Hermes protested. “Your man in the cave now has two Swords-are you going to give him a third?”
Mars considered this mere sarcasm, unworthy of an answer. Muleheadedly determined to do what he had set out to do, conduct tests on his specimen, he announced that he was going back to the cave again, with a new plan in mind.
“I think we had better first consult the Council.” Hermes paused. “Unless you are worried about what they might say,” he added slyly.
“What? I? Worried?”
Keyes, pacing his open-air cell on weary legs, kept shooting frowning glances at the Sword of Despair where it lay on the cave floor. He was trying feverishly to think of some way he might trade the sheathed Soulcutter for his freedom. Suppose another god, or goddess, were to appear on the upper rim of the cave, and he suggested some kind of trade? But no, he doubted they would be in any mood for bargaining. And he was still unable to climb out of the pit unaided. His magical capabilities, which might have got him free, were stirring, but he could tell that their restoration was going to take much longer than that of his eyesight.
Again he was being threatened by a sense of hopelessness.
He had now been in the cave for hours, and straining to study the gods for long hours before Mars caught him. As the afternoon wore on, Keyes sat down to rest, and in a few moments fell helplessly into an exhausted, stuporous sleep-with Doomgiver still gripped in his right hand.
A number of the gods, including Mars and Hermes, had hastily reconvened in Council. They were enough, or so they said, to form a quorum. And they were much concerned with Shieldbreaker too. None of those present would admit to being in possession of that weapon, or to knowing where it was. Who had received it in the lottery? Regrettably Vulcan was absent, and could not be asked. Maybe he would not have revealed the secret anyway.
Around midaftemoon, the Council passed a resolution stating it as their intention that all Swords should be reclaimed from human possession.
Mars the warrior, still stubbornly determined to establish himself as above Sword-power, volunteered to enforce the order.
Zeus told him to go ahead. Others, enough, it seemed, for a majority, were in agreement. “If there is any real problem, you seem to have caused it. Therefore you should find a remedy!”
Still, Hermes once again tried to argue Mars out of taking too direct an approach. “Doomgiver has now overcome you twice-wait, let me finish! I tell you, we must either arrange to borrow Shieldbreaker from whoever has it, or else get that other Sword out of the man’s hand by guile.”
“Guile, is it? I have other ideas about that. And I wasn’t overcome. I was only taken unawares, and-and distracted for a moment. Who said that I was overcome?” Mars glowered fiercely.
Hermes heaved a sigh of divine proportions. “Have it your own way, then.”
…and then Lo-Yang, like some figure out of a dream, was bending over Keyes, shaking him awake. The magician’s body convulsed in a nervous start, bringing him up into a sitting position. He comprehended with amazement that his apprentice had returned after all. He saw the long, thin rope, its upper end secured somehow, hanging down into the cave.
“Master! Thank Ardneh, you can see again! What’s happened? Your face is all dried blood. And what are these two swords?”
“Never mind my face. Pick up that Sword on the floor, and bring it with us, but as you value your life, do not even imagine yourself drawing it. Let us go!”
They scrambled toward the rope. But before either of the men could start to climb, Mars appeared, his face set in a mask of stubborn anger, and put out one finger to snap the long rope from its fastening at its upper end.
Keyes could feel all hope die with the falling coil.
Mars said nothing, but he was smiling, ominously. And he had another Sword in hand. It was soon plain which Sword this was, for the god wielding it began carving out a block of stone, part of the solid cave-roof. It was a huge slab, and when it fell the men trapped in the cave would have to be very alert and lucky to dodge it and escape quick death.
Lo-Yang collapsed on his knees, forehead to the ground.
Mars’s companion, he of the winged sandals, was standing back a little watching, with the attitude of one who has serious misgivings but is afraid or at least reluctant to interfere.
Maybe, thought Keyes suddenly, all hope is not dead after all. A moment later, he could see the sudden opening to the sky as the block of stone came loose. Aiming Doomgiver at it like a spear, he saw the slab twist in the air, and then fall up instead of down, looping through the precise curve necessary to bring it into violent contact with the Wargod’s own head.
Mars reeled, and his helmet, grossly dented, flew aside. Only a god could have survived such an impact. The Wargod did not even lose consciousness, but in his shock let Stonecutter fall from his hand into the cave, the bare Blade clanging on rock.
“Now you know as well as I do, what I have here.” At first Keyes whispered the words. Then he shouted them at the top of his voice. “Doomgiver! Doomgiver! I hold the blessed Sword of Justice!”
Mars, battered, lacking his helmet but refusing to admit that he was even slightly dazed, still pigheadedly confident of his own prowess, came down into the cave with some dignity, treading thin air as before. Mars was coming to take the Sword back, hand-to-hand, from Keyes. Well, Shieldbreaker could be captured that way, couldn’t it? And it the strongest Sword of all?
While the two men cowered back, the god first grabbed up the sheathed Soulcutter, and tossed it carelessly up and out of the cave, well out of the humans’ reach. Any god who thought he needed a Sword’s help could pick it up!
Then Mars turned his attention to Doomgiver, and confronted the stubborn man who held it. Keyes noted with some amazement that his great opponent, bruised as he was, appeared less angry now than he had at the start of the adventure; in fact the Wargod was gazing at Keyes with a kind of grudging appreciation.
“You seem a brave man, with the fiber I like to see among my followers. I would be willing to accept your worship. And for all I care personally, you might keep Vulcan’s bit of steel and magic. Humans might retain them all; we who possess the strength of gods have no need of such-such tricks. But the Council has decided otherwise. Therefore, on behalf of the Council, I-”
And Mars reached out confidently, to reclaim Doomgiver from Keyes’s unsteady grip-but somehow the Sword in the man’s hand eluded the god’s grasp. Mars tried again, and failed again-and then his effort was interrupted.
A roaring polyphonic outcry reached the cave, a wave of divine anger coming from the place a hundred meters distant where the Council had so recently passed its resolution.