Sos dropped to the ground, rolled over to get his good leg under him, and leaped up again, ready to follow up with a sustained knuckle-beat to the back of the neck. Bog could not swing effectively so long as he was pinned to the ground, and even he could not withstand more than a few seconds of- Sos halted. Suddenly he knew what-had happened. The slight misplacement of the kick, providing added leverage against the head; the forward thrust of Bog's large body as he swung; the feedback effect of the club blow upon the leg; the very musculature constricting the clubber's neck these things had combined to make the very special connection Sos had sought to avoid.
Bog's neck was broken.
He was not dead-but the damage was irreparable, here. If he survived, it would be as a paralytic. Bog would never fight again. -
Sos looked up, becoming aware of the audience he had completely forgotten, and met Tor's eyes. Tor nodded gravely. -
Sos picked up Bog's club and smashed it with all his force against the staring head.
CHAPTER TWENTY
'Come with me,' Sav said.
Sos followed him into the forest, paying no attention to the direction. He felt as he had when Stupid perished in the snow. Here was a great, perhaps slow-witted but happy fellow-abruptly dead in a manner no one had wanted or expected, least of all Sos himself. Sos had liked the hearty clubber; he had fought by his side. By the definition of the circle, Bog had been his friend.
There were many ways he could have killed the man, had that been his intent, or maimed him, despite his power. Sos's efforts to avoid doing any real damage had been largely responsible for the prolongation of the encounter- yet had led to nothing. Perhaps there had been no way to defeat Bog without killing him. Perhaps in time Sos could convince himself of that, anyway.
At least he had seen to it that the man died as he might have wished: by a swift blow from the club. Small comfort.
Sav stopped and gestured. They were in a forest glade, a circular mound with a small, crude pyramid of stones at the apex. It was one of the places of burial and worship maintained by volunteer tribesmen who did not choose to turn over the bodies of their friends to the crazies for cremation.
'In the underworld-could they have saved him?' Sav inquired.
'I think so.'
'But if you tried to take him there-'
'They would have blasted us both with the flamethrower before we got within hailing. distance of the entrance. I am forbidden ever to return.'
'Then, this is best,' Sav said.
They stood looking at the mound, knowing that Bog would soon lie within it.
'Sol comes to these churches every few days, alone,' Sav said. 'I thought you'd like to know.'
Then it seemed, that no time passed, but it had been a month of travel and healing, and he was standing beside another timeless mound and Sol was coming to pray.
Sol kneeled at the foot of the pyramid and raised his eyes to it. Sos dropped to his own knees beside him. They stayed there in silence for some time.
'I had a friend,' Sos said at last. 'I had to meet him in the circle, though I would not have chosen it. Now he is buried here.'
'I, too,' Sol said. 'He went to the mountain.'
'Now I must challenge for an empire I do not want, and perhaps kill again, when all that I desire is friendship.'
'I prayed here all day for friendship,' Sol said, speaking of all the mounds in the world as one, and all times as one, as Sos bad done. 'When I returned to my camp I thought my prayer was answered-but he required what I could not give.' He paused. 'I would give my empire to have that friend again.'
'Why can't we two talk away from here, never to enter the circle again?'
'I would take only my daughter.'
