She looked around. The room had the look of a barracks. Bunks protruded from the walls and there was a long table with benches in the center. There was a fireplace at the far end with the last embers of a fire glowing inside. ‘Adequate,’ she said.
‘I’d better go look after the horses,’ Durnik said. ‘Is there a stable anywhere on the grounds?’
‘It’s down at the far end of the courtyard,’ Beldin told him, ‘and the Guardsmen who were here probably put in a supply of fodder and water for their own mounts.’
‘Good,’ Durnik said.
‘Would you bring in the packs with my utensils and the stores, dear?’ Polgara asked him.
‘Of course.’ Then he went out, followed by Toth and Eriond.
‘Suddenly I’m so tired that I can barely stand,’ Garion said, sinking onto a bench.
‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised.’ Beldin grunted. ‘You’ve had a busy evening.’
‘Are you coming along with us?’ Belgarath asked him.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Beldin replied, sprawling on the bench. ‘I want to find out where Nahaz took Urvon.’
‘Will you be able to follow him?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Beldin tapped his nose. ‘I can smell a demon six days after he passes. I’ll trail Nahaz just like a blood-hound. I won’t be gone too long. You go ahead and follow Zandramas, and I’ll catch up with you somewhere along the way.’ The hunchback rubbed at his jaw thoughtfully. ‘I think we can be fairly sure that Nahaz isn’t going to let Urvon out of his sight. Urvon is—or was—a Disciple of Torak, after all. Even as much as I detest him, I still have to admit that he’s got a very strong mind. Nahaz is going to have to talk to him almost constantly to keep his sanity from returning, so if our Demon Lord went to Darshiva to oversee his creatures there, he’s almost certain to have taken Urvon along.’
‘You will be careful, won’t you?’
‘Don’t get sentimental on me, Belgarath. Just leave me some kind of trail I can follow. I don’t want to have to look all over Mallorea for you.’
Sadi came from the throne room with his red leather case in one hand and Zith’s little bottle in the other. ‘She’s still very irritated,’ he said to Velvet. ‘She doesn’t appreciate being used as a weapon.’
‘I told you that I’d apologize to her, Sadi,’ she replied. ‘I’ll explain things to her. I’m sure she’ll understand.’
Silk was looking at the blond girl with an odd expression. ‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘Didn’t it bother you at all the first time you put her down the front of your dress?’
She laughed. ‘To be perfectly honest with you, Prince Kheldar, the first time it was all I could do to keep from screaming.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
At first light the following morning, a light that was little more than a lessening of the darkness of a sky where dense cloud scudded before the chill wind blowing down off the mountains, Silk returned to the room in which they had spent the night. ‘The house is being watched,’ he told them.
‘How many are there?’ Belgarath asked.
‘I saw one. I’m sure there are others.’
‘Where is he? The one that you saw?’
Silk’s quick grin was vicious. ‘He’s watching the sky. At least he looks like he’s watching. His eyes are open and he’s lying on his back.’ He slid his hand down into his boot, pulled out one of his daggers, and looked sorrowfully at its once-keen edge. ‘Do you have any idea of how hard it is to push a knife through a chain-mail shirt?’
‘I think that’s why people wear them, Kheldar,’ Velvet said to him. ‘You should use one of these.’ From somewhere amongst her soft, feminine clothing she drew out a long-bladed poniard with a needlelike point.
‘I thought you were partial to snakes.’
‘Always use the appropriate weapon, Kheldar. I certainly wouldn’t want Zith to break her teeth on a steel shirt.’
‘Could you two talk business some other time?’ Belgarath said to them. ‘Can you put a name to this fellow who’s suddenly so interested in the sky?’
‘We didn’t really have time to introduce ourselves,’ Silk replied, sliding his jagged-edged knife back into his boot.
‘I meant what—not who.’
‘Oh. He was a Temple Guardsman.’
‘Not one of the Chandim?’
‘All I had to go by was his clothing.’
The old man grunted.
‘It’s going to be slow going if we have to look behind every tree and bush as we ride along,’ Sadi said.
‘I realize that,’ Belgarath answered, tugging at one earlobe. ‘Let me think my way through this.’
‘And while you’re deciding, I’ll fix us some breakfast,’ Polgara said, laying aside her hairbrush. ‘What would you all like?’
‘Porridge?’ Eriond asked hopefully.
Silk sighed. ‘The word is gruel, Eriond. Gruel.’ Then he looked quickly at Polgara, whose eyes had suddenly turned frosty. ‘Sorry, Polgara,’ he apologized, ‘but it’s our duty to educate the young, don’t you think?’
‘What I think is that I need more firewood,’ she replied.
‘I’ll see to it at once.’
‘You’re too kind.’
Silk rather quickly left the room.
‘Any ideas?’ the hunchbacked Beldin asked Belgarath.
‘Several. But they all have certain flaws in them.’
‘Why not let me handle it for you?’ The gnarled sorcerer asked, sprawling on a bench near the fire and scratching absently at his belly. ‘You’ve had a hard night, and a ten-thousand-year-old man needs to conserve his strength.’
‘You really find that amusing, don’t you? Why not say twenty—or fifty? Push absurdity to its ultimate edge.’
‘My,’ Beldin said. ‘Aren’t we testy this morning? Pol, have you got any beer handy?’
‘Before breakfast, Uncle?’ she said from beside the fire-place where she was stirring a large pot.
‘Just as a buffer for the gruel,’ he said.
She gave him a very steady look.
He grinned at her, then turned back toward Belgarath. ‘Seriously, though,’ he went on, ‘why not let me deal with all the lurkers in the bushes around the house? Kheldar could dull every knife he’s carrying, and Liselle could wear that poor little snake’s fangs down to the gums, and you still wouldn’t be sure if you’d cleaned out the woods hereabouts. I’m going off in a different direction anyway, so why not let me do something flamboyant to frighten off the Guardsmen and the Karands and then leave a nice, wide trail for the Chandim and the Hounds? They’ll follow me, and that should leave you an empty forest to ride through.’
Belgarath gave him a speculative look. ‘Exactly what have you got in mind?’ he asked.
‘I’m still working on it.’ The dwarf leaned back reflectively. ‘Let’s face it, Belgarath, the Chandim and Zandramas already know that we’re here, so there’s not much point in tiptoeing around any more. A little noise isn’t going to hurt anything.’
‘That’s true, I suppose,’ Belgarath agreed. He looked at Garion. ‘Are you getting any hints from the Orb about the direction Zandramas took when she left here?’
‘A sort of a steady pull toward the east is all.’
Beldin grunted. ‘Makes sense. Since Urvon’s people were wandering all over Katakor, she probably wanted to get to the nearest unguarded border as quickly as possible. That would be Jenno.’
‘Is the border between Jenno and Katakor unguarded?’ Velvet asked.
‘They don’t even know for sure where the border is.’ He snorted. ‘At least not up in the forest. There’s nothing up there but trees anyway, so they don’t bother with it.’ He turned back to Belgarath. ‘Don’t get your mind set in stone on some of these things,’ he advised. ‘We did a lot of speculating back at Mal Zeth, and the theories we came up with were related to the truth only by implication. There’s a great deal of intrigue going on here in Mallorea, so it’s a good idea to expect things to tu
rn out not quite the way you thought they would.’
‘Garion,’ Polgara said from the fireplace, ‘would you go see if you can find Silk? Breakfast is almost ready.’
‘Yes, Aunt Pol,’ he replied automatically.
After they had eaten, they repacked their belongings and carried the packs out to the stable.
‘Go out through the sally port,’ Beldin said as they crossed the courtyard again. ‘Give me about an hour before you start.’
‘You’re leaving now?’ Belgarath asked him.
‘I might as well. We’re not accomplishing very much by sitting around talking. Don’t forget to leave me a trail to follow.’
‘I’ll take care of it. I wish you’d tell me what you’re going to do here.’
‘Trust me.’ The gnarled sorcerer winked. ‘Take cover someplace and don’t come out again until all the noise subsides.’ He grinned wickedly and rubbed his dirty hands together in anticipation. Then he shimmered and swooped away as a blue-banded hawk.
‘I think we’d better go back inside the house,’ Belgarath suggested. ‘Whatever he’s going to do out here is likely to involve a great deal of flying debris.’
They reentered the house and went back to the room where they had spent the night. ‘Durnik,’ Belgarath said, ‘can you get those shutters closed? I don’t think we want broken glass shooting across the room.’
‘But then we won’t be able to see,’ Silk objected.
‘I’m sure you can live without seeing it. As a matter of fact, you probably wouldn’t want to watch, anyway.’
Durnik went to the window, opened it slightly, and pulled the shutters closed.
Then, from high overhead where the blue-banded hawk had been circling, there came a huge roar almost like a continuous peal of swirling thunder, accompanied by a rushing surge. The House of Torak shook as if a great wind were tearing at it, and the faint light coming from between the slats of the shutters Durnik had closed vanished, to be replaced by inky darkness. Then there came a vast bellow from high in the air above the house.
‘A demon?’ Ce’Nedra gasped. ‘Is it a demon?’
‘A semblance of a demon,’ Polgara corrected.
‘How can anybody see it when it’s so dark outside?’ Sadi asked.
‘It’s dark around the house because the house is inside the image. The people hiding in the forest should be able to see it very well—too well, in fact.’
‘It’s that big?’ Sadi looked around. ‘But this house is enormous.’
Belgarath grinned. ‘Beldin was never satisfied with halfway measures,’ he said.
There came another of those huge bellows from high above, followed by faint shrieks and cries of agony.
‘Now what’s he doing?’ Ce’Nedra asked.
‘Some kind of visual display, I’d imagine.’ Belgarath shrugged. ‘Probably fairly graphic. My guess is that everyone in the vicinity is being entertained by the spectacle of an illusory demon eating imaginary people alive.’
‘Will it frighten them off?’ Silk asked.
‘Wouldn’t it frighten you?’
From high overhead, a dreadful booming voice roared. ‘Hungry!’ it said. ‘Hungry! Want food! More food!’ There came a ponderous, earthshaking crash, the sound of a titanic foot crushing an acre of forest. Then there was another and yet another as Beldin’s enormous image stalked away. The light returned, and Silk hurried toward the window.
‘I wouldn’t,’ Belgarath warned him.
‘But—’
‘You don’t want to see it, Silk. Take my word for it. You don’t want to see it.’
The gigantic footsteps continued to crash through the nearby woods.
‘How much longer?’ Sadi asked in a shaken voice.
‘He said about an hour,’ Belgarath replied. ‘He’ll probably make use of all of it. He wants to make a lasting impression on everybody in the area.’
There were screams of terror coming from the woods now, and the crashing continued. Then there was another sound—a great roaring that receded off into the distance toward the southwest, accompanied by the fading surge of Beldin’s will.
‘He’s leading the Chandim off now,’ Belgarath said.
‘That means he’s already chased off the Guardsmen and the Karands. Let’s get ready to leave.’
It took them a while to calm the wild-eyed horses, but they were finally able to mount and ride into the courtyard. Garion had once again donned his mail shirt and helmet, and his heavy shield hung from the bow of Chretienne’s saddle. ‘Do I still need to carry the lance?’ he asked.
‘Probably not,’ Belgarath replied. ‘We’re not likely to meet anybody out there now.’
They went out through the sally port and into the brushy woods. They circled the black house until they reached the east side, then Garion drew Iron-grip’s sword. He held it lightly and swept it back and forth until he felt it pull at his hand. ‘The trail’s over there,’ he said, pointing toward a scarcely visible path leading off into the woods.
‘Good,’ Belgarath said. ‘At least we won’t have to beat our way through the brush.’
They crossed the weed-grown clearing that surrounded the House of Torak and entered the forest. The path they followed showed little sign of recent use, and it was at times difficult to see.
‘It looks as if some people left here in a hurry.’ Silk grinned, pointing at various bits and pieces of equipment lying scattered along the path.
Then they came up over the top of a hill and saw a wide strip of devastation stretching through the forest toward the southwest.
‘A tornado?’ Sadi asked.
‘No,’ Belgarath replied. ‘Beldin. The Chandim won’t have much trouble finding his trail.’
The sword in Garion’s hand was still pointed unerringly toward the path they were following. He led the way confidently, and they increased their pace to a trot and pushed on through the forest. After a league or so, the path began to run downhill, moving out of the foothills toward the heavily forested plains lying to the east of the Karandese range.
‘Are there any towns out there?’ Sadi asked, looking out over the forest.
‘Akkad is the only one of any size between here and the border,’ Silk told him.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it. What’s it like?’
‘It’s a pigpen of a place,’ Silk replied. ‘Most Karandese towns are. They seem to have a great affinity for mud.’
‘Wasn’t Akkad the place where that Melcene bureaucrat was from?’ Velvet asked.
‘That’s what he said,’ Silk answered.
‘And didn’t he say that there are demons there?’
‘There were,’ Belgarath corrected. ‘Cyradis told us that Nahaz has pulled all of his demons out of Karanda and sent them off to Darshiva to fight the Grolims there.’ He scratched at his beard. ‘I think we’ll avoid Akkad anyway. The demons may have left, but there are still going to be Karandese fanatics there, and I don’t think that the news of Mengha’s death has reached them yet. In any event, there’s going to be a fair amount of chaos here in Karanda until Zakath’s army gets back from Cthol Murgos and he moves in to restore order.’
They rode on, pausing only briefly for lunch.
By midafternoon, the clouds that had obscured the skies over Ashaba had dissipated, and the sun came back out again. The path they had been following grew wider and more well traveled, and it finally expanded into a road. They picked up the pace and made better time.
As evening drew on, they rode some distance back from the road and made their night’s encampment in a small hollow where the light from their fire would be well concealed. They ate, and, immediately after supper, Garion sought his bed. For some reason he felt bone weary.
After half an hour, Ce’Nedra joined him in their tent. She settled down into the blankets and nestled her head against his back. Then she sighed disconsolately. ‘It was all a waste of time, wasn’t it?’ she said. ‘Going to Ashaba, I mean.’
&
nbsp; ‘No, Ce’Nedra, not really,’ he replied, still on the verge of sleep. ‘We had to go there so that Velvet could kill Harakan. That was one of the tasks that have to be completed before we get to the Place Which Is No More.’
‘Does all that really have any meaning, Garion?’ she asked. ‘Half the time you act as if you believe it, and the other half you don’t. If Zandramas had been there with our son, you wouldn’t have just let her walk away because all the conditions hadn’t been met, would you?’
‘Not by so much as one step, ‘he said grimly.
‘Then you don’t really believe it, do you?’
‘I’m not an absolute fatalist, if that’s what you mean, but I’ve seen things come out exactly the way the Prophecy said they were going to far too many times for me to ignore it altogether.’
‘Sometimes I think that I’ll never see my baby again,’ she said in a weary little voice.
‘You mustn’t ever think that,’ he told her. ‘We will catch up with Zandramas, and we will take Geran home with us again.’
‘Home,’ she sighed. ‘We’ve been gone for so long that I can barely remember what it looks like.’
He took her into his arms, buried his face in her hair, and held her close. After a time she sighed and fell asleep. In spite of his own deep weariness, however, it was quite late before he himself drifted off.
The next day dawned clear and warm. They made theirway back to the road again and continued eastward with Iron-grip’s sword pointing the way.
About midmorning, Polgara called ahead to Belgarath. ‘Father, there’s someone hiding off to the side of the road just ahead.’
He slowed his horse to a walk. ‘Chandim?’ he asked tersely.
‘No. It’s a Mallorean Angarak. He’s very much afraid—and not altogether rational.’
‘Is he planning any mischief?’
‘He’s not actually planning anything, father. His thoughts aren’t coherent enough for that.’
‘Why don’t you go flush him out, Silk?’ the old man suggested. ‘I don’t like having people lurking behind me—sane or not.’
‘About where is he?’ the little man asked Polgara.
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