There came a mighty roaring sound.
Mara grew into a giant, and his chariot was a mountain. His horses spanned eternities as they galloped forward. Lightning leapt from Sam's lance, like spray from a fountain. A blizzard suddenly swirled about him, and the cold of interstellar space itself entered into his bones.
At the last possible instant, Mara swerved his chariot and leapt down from it.
They struck it broadside and there came a grinding sound from beneath them as they settled slowly to the ground.
By then the roaring was deafening and the pulses of light from the river had grown into a steady glow. A wave of steaming water swept across the field as the Vedra overflowed its banks.
There were more screams, and the clash of arms continued. Faintly, the drums of Nirriti still beat within the darkness, and there came a strange sound from overhead as the thunder chariot sped toward the ground.
"Where'd he go?" cried Sam.
"To hide," said Death. "But he cannot hide forever."
"Damn it! Are we winning or losing?"
"That's a good question. I don't know the answer, though."
The waters foamed about the grounded chariot.
"Can you get us moving again?"
"Not in this darkness, with the water all around us."
"Then what do we do now?"
"Cultivate patience and smoke cigarettes." He leaned back and struck a light.
After a time, one of the Rakasha came and hovered in the air above them.
"Binder!" reported the demon. "The new attackers of the city wear upon them that-which-repels!"
Sam raised his lance and a line of lightning fled from its point.
For one photoflash of an instant, the field was illuminated.
The dead lay everywhere. Small groups of men huddled together. Some lay twisting in combat upon the ground. The bodies of animals were strewn among them. A few large cats still wandered, feeding. The fire elementals had fled from the water, which had coated the fallen with mud and soaked those who still could stand. Broken chariots and dead slizzards and horses made mounds upon the field. Across the scene, empty-eyed and continuing to follow orders, the zombies wandered, slaying anything living that moved before them. In the distance, one drum still beat, with an occasional falter. From the city there came the sounds of continued battle.
"Find the lady in black," said Sam to the Rakasha, "and tell her to break the darkness."
"Yes," said the demon, and fled back toward the city.
The sun shone again and Sam shielded his eyes against it.
The carnage was even worse under the blue sky and the golden bridge.
Across the field, the thunder chariot rested upon high ground.
The zombies slew the last of the men in sight. Then, as they turned to seek more life, the drumming ceased and they fell to the ground themselves.
Sam stood with Death within the chariot. They looked about them for signs of life.
"Nothing moves," said Sam. "Where are the gods?"
"Perhaps in the thunder chariot."
The Rakasha came to them once more.
"The defenders cannot hold the city," he reported.
"Have the gods joined in that assault?"
"Rudra is there, and his arrows work much havoc."
"The Lord Mara. Brahma, too, I think—and there are many others. There is much confusion. I hurried."
"Where is the Lady Ratri?"
"She entered into Keenset and abides there in her Temple."
"Where are the rest of the gods?"
"I do not know."
"I will go on to the city," said Sam, "and aid in its defense."
"And I to the thunder chariot," said Death, "to take it and use it against the enemy—if it can still be used. If not, there is still Garuda."
"Yes," said Sam, and levitated.
Death sprang down from the chariot. "Fare thee well."
"Thou also."
They crossed the place of carnage, each in his own fashion.
He climbed the small rise, his red leather boots soundless on the turf.
He swept his scarlet cloak back over his right shoulder and surveyed the thunder chariot.
"It was damaged by the lightnings."
"Yes," he agreed.
He looked back toward the tail assembly, at the one who had spoken.
His armor shone like bronze, but it was not bronze.
It was worked about with the forms of many serpents.
He wore the horns of a bull upon his burnished helm, and in his left hand he held a gleaming trident.
"Brother Agni, you have come up in the world."
"I am no longer Agni, but Shiva, Lord of Destruction."
"You wear his armor upon a new body and you carry his trident. But none could master the trident of Shiva so quickly. This is why you wear the white gauntlet on your right hand, and the goggles upon your brow."
Shiva reached up and lowered the goggles over his eyes.
"It is true, I know. Throw away your trident, Agni. Give me your glove and your wand, your belt and your goggles."
He shook his head.
"I respect your power, deathgod, your speed and your strength, your skill. But you stand too far away for any of these to aid you now. You cannot come at me but I will burn you before you reach me here. Death, you shall die."
He reached for the wand at his belt.
"You seek to turn the gift of Death against its giver?" The blood-red scimitar came into his hand as he spoke.