He leaped down; the great hammer rose and fell and slaughtered. Casques and helms shattered under the smashing blows; the Amenalk wielded Helm-Breaker in a circle of scarlet death about him. "_Helm-Breaker! Ho--slay! Slay!_" Kiriath swayed in confusion under the onslaught. In that breathing-space Elak and Dalan rallied their army. Cursing, yelling, brandishing steel, they whipped order out of chaos. Elak snatched a dragon banner from the dust, lifted it high. He turned his horse's head down the valley. One hand lifting the standard, one gripping his bared rapier, he drove his spurs deep. "_Ho, the Dragon!_" he shouted. "_Cyrena! Cyrena!_" Down upon Kiriath he thundered. Behind him rode Lycon and the Druid. And after them the remnants of an army poured. Hira led his archers from the cliffs. The arbalasters came bounding like mountain goats, snatching up swords and spears, pouring afoot after their king. "_Cyrena!_" The drums and cymbals roared out again. Through the tumult pierced the thin, weird calling of the pipes. "_Helm-Breaker! Slay! Slay!_" And then madness--a hell of shouting, scarlet battle through which Elak charged, Dalan and Lycon beside him, riding straight for the bushy beard that marked Sepher. On and on, over screaming horses and dying men, through a whirlpool of flashing, thirsty steel, thrusting, stabbing, hacking-- The face of Sepher rose up before Elak. The bronzed face of Kiriath's king was impassive; in his cold eyes dwelt something inhuman. Involuntarily an icy shudder racked Elak. As he paused momentarily the brand of Sepher whirled up and fell shattering in a great blow. Elak did not try to escape. He poised his rapier, flung himself forward in his stirrups, sent the sharp blade thrusting out. The enchanted steel plunged into Sepher's throat. Simultaneously Elak felt his back go numb under the sword-cut; his armor tore raggedly. The blade dug deep into the body of the war-horse. The light went out of Sepher's eyes. He remained for a heart-beat upright in his saddle. Then his face changed. It darkened with swift corruption. It blackened and rotted before Elak's eyes. Death, so long held at bay, sprang like a crouching beast. A foul and loathsome thing fell forward and rumbled from the saddle. It dropped to the bloody ground and lay motionless. Black ichor oozed out from the chinks of the armor; the face that stared up blindly at the sky was a frightful thing. And without warning darkness and utter silence dropped down and shrouded Elak. _10. The Black Vision_ And the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where are also the beast and the false prophet; and they shall be tormented day and night for ever and ever. --Revelations 20:10. He felt again the dizzy vertigo that presaged the coming of Karkora. A high-pitched, droning whine rang shrilly in his ears; he felt a sense of swift movement. A picture came.