More and more the king felt that he must meet what perils were before him almost alone. His people and the nobles were slipping from him. Well, so be it. His spirit rose to the test.
Two more days passed slowly. Three more of the moons of Sardanes waned from their mountain heights forever. The state of the stricken people bordered on frenzy. All the ordinary pursuits of the valley were abandoned.
Then, at midday, the booming of the drum gave them a moment of wild hope. The word of Hephaistos had come!
Surrounded by his hunters, Minos hastened down the hillside to the Judgment House. From upper Sardanes down to the Gateway the people were assembled, a throng that filled the hall and overflowed in the paved court. The captains of the crafts were gathered at the foot of the steps to the dais. The nobles were in their places. The king ran his eyes quickly along them. Only the Lord Karnaon was missing.
Standing in front of the black stone throne of the high priest was a heavily draped figure. It was not Analos, but one of his ministers.
As soon as the king had seated himself on the throne the priest advanced from his station to the center of the dais and threw back the robe from his face. He was Karthanon, oldest of all the priests of the Gateway, the oldest man in all Sardanes.
For a moment he stood with eyes fixed on the floor, and there was tense silence in the hall and without. He folded his arms. His cracked old voice rose shrilly:
"Minos the king, nobles, and people of Sardanes, greeting. This word from the Lord Hephaistos through the mouth of Analos, mightiest of his servants. List and heed, for a terrible doom falleth, and there is but one way in which it may be held back.
"Let Minos the king forego his kingship. It is written that no more shall a king rule in Sardanes!