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d on the border of vision； even now when direct sunlight was pletely gone。 Night's shadows； rising from the swamp； had by now crept pletely across the cleared courtyard and were climbing the front of the enormous； ruined temple。
〃What else did he say？ Well； when I thought he was about to turn away and leave me with the sword； I asked him again： 'Why are you giving this to me？' And Hermes answered： 'The gods grow impatient； for their great game to begin。〃' 〃'Great game'？〃 The giant's voice rumbled down to Nestor from above。 〃Do you know what he meant by that？〃
〃No； though I have thought about it often。〃 Nestor forced himself to raise his head and look the other in the eye。 〃Do you know what he meant？〃
〃To guess what the gods mean by what they say is more than I can manage； most of the time。 And is this sword here at our feet the same that Hermes gave to you？〃
〃I thought so； when I tried to kill the flying dragon with it。 But； now that I think back。。。 〃 Nestor bent quickly and picked up the sword； examining its hilt closely in the fading light。 〃No； it is not； though this one is very like it。 A boy I met； traveling； was carrying this one。 There was a fight。 There was confusion。 And Duke Fraktin's soldiers probably have my sword by now。〃 Nestor uttered a small； fierce sound。
〃Explain yourself。〃 The huge dark eyes of his questioner were still unreadable； above titanic folded arms。
〃All right。〃 Nestor's sudden bitter anger over the loss of his own sword helped suppress timidity。 And the longer he spoke with the giant； the less afraid of him he felt。 Briefly considering his own reactions； Nestor decided that his childlike forthrightness resulted from knowing himself； like a child； pletely dependent on some benevolent other。 〃I'll explain what I can。 But is there any reason why you cannot answer a question or two for me as well？〃
〃I may answer them； or not。 What are these questions？〃
The mildness of this reply； as Nestor considered it； encouraged his boldness； and anyway； with him boldness was a lifelong habit； now beginning to reassert itself。 〃Will you tell me your name； to begin with？ You have not spoken it yet。 Or asked for mine。〃
There was a brief pause before the bass rumble of the answer drifted down。 〃Your name I know already； slayer of dragons。 And if I tell you my name now； you are almost certain to misunderstand。 Perhaps later。〃
Nestor nodded。 〃Next； some questions about the creature that brought me here。 I have never seen anything like it before； and I have some experience。 It flew straight here to you as if it were acting on your orders； under your control。 Is it truly a dragon； or some thing of magic？ Did you create it？ Did you send it after me？〃
〃It is a dragon； and I did send it。 I am sorry that you were injured； for I meant you no harm。 But I took the risk of harming you； for the sake of certain information I felt I had to have。 Rumors had reached me； through the dragons； of a man who killed their kind with a new magical power that was embodied in a sword。 And other word had reached me； through other means； of other swords that were said to have been made by the gods。。。 I have good reason to want to know about these things。〃
Nestor thought that possibly he was being used to the burden of that dark gaze。 Now he could meet it once again。 〃You are a friend of dragons； then； and talk to them。〃
The giant hesitated。 〃'Friend' is perhaps not the right word for it。 But in some sense I talk to them； and they to me。 I talk with everything that lives。 Now； I would ask you to answer a few more questions for me； in turn。〃
〃I'll try。〃 〃Good。 There is an old prophecy。。。 what do you know of the Gray Horde？〃
Nestor looked back blankly。 〃What should I know？ I have never heard the words before。 What do they mean？〃
His interrogator considered。 〃e with me and I will show you a little of their meaning。〃 With that； the towering figure turned and paced away toward the temple。 Nestor followed； sword in hand。 He smiled briefly； faintly； at the enormous furred back moving before him； the other had not thought twice about turning his back on a strange man with a drawn sword。 Not that Nestor was going to think even once about making a treacherous attack。 Even if he'd had something to gain by it； he would as soon have contemplated taking a volcano by surprise。
The front entrance of the temple was high enough for the giant to walk into it without stooping。 Now； once inside； Nestor observed that the building had indeed been constructed of some hardened and preserved wood … traces of the grain pattern were still visible。 He thought that it must be very old。 Much of the roof had fallen in； but the ceiling was still intact in some of the rooms。 So it was in the high chamber where Nestor's guide now stopped。 Here it was already quite dark inside。 As Nestor's eyes adapted to the gloom； the fantastic carvings that filled the walls seemed to materialize out of the darkness like ghosts。
The giant； his body outlined in the night by his own faintly luminous fur； had halted beside a large open tank that was built into the center of the floor。 The reservoir was surrounded by a low rim of the same preserved wood from which the floor and walls were made； and Nestor thought that it was probably some kind of ritual vat or bath。
Moving a little closer； he saw that the vat was nearly filled with liquid。 Perhaps it was only water； but in the poor light it looked black。
From a shelf his guide took a device that Nestor； having seen its like once or twice before； recognized as a flameless Old World lantern； powered by some force of ancient technology。 The giant focussed its cold； piercing beam down into the black vat。 Something stirred beneath that inky surface； and in another moment the shallowness of the tank was demonstrated。 The liquid it contained was no more than knee…deep on the smallish； man…shaped figure that now rose awkwardly to its feet inside。 Dark water； bright…gleaming in the beam of light； ran in rivulets from the gray naked surface of the figure。 Its hairless； sexless body reminded Nestor at once of the curved exoskeleton of some giant insect。 He did not for a moment take it as truly human； though it was approximately of human shape。
〃What is it？〃 Nestor demanded。 He had backed up a step and was gripping his sword。
〃Call it a larva。〃 His guide's vast voice was almost hushed。 〃That is an old word； which may mean a ghost； or a mask； or an unfinished insect form。 None of those are exact names for this。 But I think that all of them in different ways e close。〃
〃Larva；〃 Nestor repeated。 The sound of the word at least seemed to him somehow appropriate。 He observed the larva carefully。 Once it had got itself fully erect； it stood in the tank without moving； arms hanging at its sides。 When Nestor leaned closer； peering at it； he thought that the dark eyes under the smooth gray brow fixed themselves on him； but the eyes were in heavy shadow and he could not be sure。 The mouth and ears were tiny； puckered openings； the nose almost non…existent and lacking nostrils。 Apparently the thing did not need to breathe。 Nestor thought it looked like a mummy。 〃Is it dead？〃 he asked。
〃It has never been alive。 But all across the Great Swamp the life energies of the earth are being perverted to produce others like it。 Out there under the surface of the swamp thousands of them ate being formed； grown； raised by magical powers that I do not understand。 But I fear that they are connected somehow with the god…game； and the swords。 And I know that they are meant for evil。〃
The god…game again。 Nestor had no idea what he ought to say； and so he held his peace。 He thought he could tell just from looking at the figure that it was meant for no good purpose。 It did not really look like a mummy； he decided； but more like some witch's mannikin； fabricated only to facilitate a curse。 Except that； in Nestor's limited experience at least； such mannikins were no bigger than small dolls； and this was nearly as big as Nestor himself。 Looking at the thing more closely now； he began to notice the crudity of detail with which it had been formed。 Surely it would limp if it tried to walk。 He could see the poor； mismatched fit of the lifeless joints； how clumsily they bulked under the smooth covering that was not skin； or scale； or even vegetable bark。
The giant's hand reached out to pluck the figure from the tank。 He stood it on the temple floor of hardened wood； directly in front of Nestor。 As the hand released it； the figure made a slight independent movement； enough to correct its standing balance。 Then it was perfectly still again。 Now Nestor could see that its eyes under the gray brows were also gray； the color of old weathered wood； but still inanimate as no wood ever could have been。 The eyes were certainly locked onto Nestor now； and they made him feel unfortable。
And only now； with an inward shock； did Nestor see that the figure's arms did not end in hands but instead grew into weapons； the right arm terminated in an ugly blade that seemed designed as an instrument of torture； and the left in a crude； barbed hook。 Ther