at this moment , it is he , frak , fear-gripped but step-by-step sinuously descending into a moonless belly , following a king , one who strides and steps with victorious confidence , holding a torch on high , coiling down and down and down and around and across and under an arch and then into a room that is two men high and three wide but not moonless , rather eerily flushed by a brilliant sunshine , no , not sunshine ... no , not sunshine but it hurts like bright noonday blazing light in the hot season ... every area of his head hurtseyes which have nothing else but sun words with which to describe this light , this which is light but not light ... fiery , but not burning hot ... heavy blanketing as if almost watery , more a presence as if a light alive , this brightness ... but it is the stones which stop him , shut him down , throw a darkness over his brainno words , no images , for the source of the brightness is a flurry of light-bolts striking forth from two stonesstones set in a shiny silver breastplate bigger and thicker and of such substance that frak sees himself falling down onto his knees and from his knees full prone , stretched out onto the floor , there without words but with fists beating the ground , hammering the ground , thumping the ground ... king benjamin laughs heartily but sympathetically at fraks profound misunderstanding ... he knows it is pure and stark fear that grinds frak ... knows that of all feelings fear is not the most powerful one bestowed by the urim and thummin .