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plement went in。
Then； standing very near Mark and speaking in a low voice； this man asked him； 〃e； tell me … why did he really summon you back here？〃 When there was no immediate reply； the man added； in a voice suddenly filled with injured pride； 〃All right then； be silent； as befits your office。 Only don't expect those you keep in the dark now to be eager to help you later； when。。。〃
The man broke off abruptly at that point。 It was as if he had been warned of something； by some signal that Mark totally failed to perceive。 The man turned his face away from Mark； and toward the doorway that Mark had supposed must lead into the inner chambers of the pavilion。
Meanwhile one of those still at the altar warned； in a low voice： 〃The Master es。〃 All present … except of course the sacrificial victim … fell to their knees； Mark moving a beat behind the rest。
It was Vilkata himself who emerged a moment later through the curtains of sable black。 Mark had never laid eyes on the Dark King before； but still he could not doubt for an instant who this was。
The first impression was of angular height； of a man taller than Mark himself； robed in a simple cloth of black and gold。 The hood of the garment was pulled back； leaving the wearer's head bare except for a simple golden circlet； binding back long ringlets of white hair。 The exposed face and hands of the Dark King were very pale； suggesting that the whiteness of the hair and of the curled beard resulted from some type of albinism rather than from age。
The second impression Mark received was that some of the more horrible tales might be true； for the Dark King was actually； physically blind。 Under the golden circlet； the long…lashed lids sagged over what must be empty sockets； spots of softness in a face otherwise all harsh masculine angles。 According to the worst of the stories； this man in his youth had put out his own eyes； as part of some dreadful ritual necessary to overpower his enemies' magic and gain some horrible revenge。
Looped around Vilkata's lean waist was a sword…belt of black and gold； and in the dependent sheath there rode a Sword。 Even in the dim light Mark could not fail to recognize that plain black hilt； so like the one he was now clasping hard in his own sweaty fist。 And Mark； his own vision augmented in some ways by Sightblinder； could not miss the small stylized white symbol of a banner that marked Vilkata's Sword。
It was of course the Mindsword； just as Draffut had warned。 Mark was struck with the instant conviction that what he had to do now was to get the Mindsword out of Vilkata's possession； prevent his using it to seize the world。 The decision needed no pondering； no consideration of consequences。
Vilkata's blind face turned from left to right and back again； as if he might be somehow scrutinizing his assembled magicians carefully。 Mark could read no particular expression on the harsh countenance of the Dark King。 Then one large； pale hand extended itself from inside Vilkata's robe； making a lifting gesture； a signal to his counselors that they might stand。 Would the King have known； Mark wondered； if they had all been standing instead of kneeling as he entered？ But then there would not have been this faint robe…rustle sound of rising。
Mark held his breath as the blind face turned once more toward him； and this time stayed turned in his direction。 Behind those eyelashes； white and grotesquely long； the pale collapsed lids were as magnetic as any stare。 Something about them was perversely beautiful。
There was a tiny almost inaudible humming； a miniature disturbance in the air near the Dark King's head。 Some demonic or familiar power was municating with him … so Mark perceived； watching with Sightblinder's handle in the grip of his hand。
The Dark King seemed about to speak； but hesitated； as if he were magically aware that something was wrong； that matters here in this innermost seat of his power were not as they should be。 Still the blind face confronted Mark； and Vilkata whispered a soft question into the air。 A humming answer came。 Mark could feel the power of the sheathed Sword at his own side suddenly thrum more strongly。
When Vilkata did speak aloud； Mark was surprised at the sound of his voice； smooth； deep； and pleasant。
〃Burslem； I am surprised to see you here。 I take it that the task I sent you on has been pleted？〃
Burslem。 To Mark the name meant nothing。 〃It is indeed； my lord。 My head on it。〃
〃Indeed； as you say。。。 now all of you； finish quickly what you are about in here。 I want you all at the conference table as quickly as possible。 The generals are waiting。〃 And Vilkata and his halfvisible familiar vanished； behind a sable swirl of draperies。
One wizard； a junior member of the group perhaps； stayed behind briefly to settle whatever still remained to be settled upon their ghastly altar。 The others； Mark among them； filed through the doorway where Vilkata had disappeared。 They passed through the next chamber； which was filled with what looked like draped furniture； and entered the next beyond that。
The room was larger； and somewhat better lighted。 It contained a conference table large enough to acmodate in its surrounding chairs all of the magicians and an approximately equal number of military…looking men and women； who as Vilkata had said were already seated and waiting。 The military people wore symbolic scraps of armor； though as Mark noted none of them were visibly armed there in the presence of their King。 Vilkata himself； predictably； was seated in a larger chair than the others； at one end of the table。 Behind him a map on a large scale； supported on wooden poles； bore many symbols； indicating among other things what appeared to be the positions of several armies。 There was Tashigang； near the center of the map； there the winding Corgo making its way northward to the sea。 There was the Great Swamp。。。
Mark was making a hasty effort to memorize the types and positions of the symbols on the map； but the distractions at the moment were overpowering。 The magicians were taking their places at the table； and fortunately there seemed to be little ceremony about it。 But again Mark had to delay marginally； to be able to make a guess as to what place Burslem ought to take。 He was not sure whether to be relieved or not； when he found himself pulling out the last vacant chair； some distance down the table from the King。
As the faint noise of people seated themselves died out； a silence hold upon the room； and stretched。 As Vilkata sat on his raised chair； the hilt of the Mindsword at his side was plainly visible to the rest of the assembly。 And the humming presence above the King's head came and went； all but imperceptibly to the others in the room。
〃I see；〃 the Dark King said at last … and if there was irony in those two words； Mark thought that it was subtly measured … 〃that none of you are able to tear your eyes away from my new toy here at my side。 Doubtless you are wondering where I got it； and how I managed to so without your help。 Well； I'll give you all a close look at it presently。 But first there's a report or two I want to hear。〃
Again the blind face turned back and forth； as if Vilkata were seeking to make sure of something。 A faint frown creased the white brow； otherwise youthfully unlined。 〃Burslem；〃 the Dark King added in his pleasant voice； 〃I want to hear your report in private； a little later。 After you have seen my Sword。〃
〃As you will； Lord；〃 Mark said clearly。 In his own ears； his voice still sounded like his own。 The others all heard it without noticing anything amiss。 But whatever Vilkata heard did not erase his faint suspicious frown。
Now some of the magicians and generals； following an order of precedence that Mark could not identify； began to make reports to the King and his council； each speaker in turn standing up at his or her own place at the table。 The unsuspected spy was able to listen； half…prehending； to lists of military units； to descriptions of problems in levying troops and gathering supplies； to unexpected difficulties with the constructions of a road that would be needed later to facilitate the unexplained movement of some army。 It seemed to Mark that invaluable facts； information vital for Sir Andrew and his allies； were marching at a fast pace into his ears and out again。 Listen！ he demanded of himself in silent anguish。 Absorb this； retain it！ Yet it seemed that he could not。 Then there came a relieving thought。 When he saw Dame Yoldi again； she would be able to help him recapture anything that he heard now； he had seen her do as much for others in the past。
If he ever got to see Dame Yoldi's beautiful face again。 If he ever managed to leave this camp alive。
There was the monstrous Sword at Vilkata's side； and here was Vilkata himself； seated within what looked like easy striking distance of Mark's own Sword； or of his bow … Mark still had his two arrows left。 More important by far； thought Mark； than any mere information that could be collected； would be to deprive the Dark King of the Mindsword； and； if possible； of his own evil life as well。
Mark knew of no way by which the Mindsword； or any of its eleven peers； could be destroyed。 The only way