"She didn't say it exactly, but I got the impression that it's not too selective about what it eats." He paused. "Is it my imagination, or is she a very strange wolf?"
“How do you mean, exactly?”
"She stretches the language about as far as it will go, and I get the feeling that she still has more to say."
"She's intelligent, that's all. It's an uncommon trait in females, but it's not unheard of."
"What a fascinating turn this conversation has taken," Polgara observed.
"Oh," the old man said blandly, "are you still here, Pol? I thought you'd have found something else to do by now."
Her gaze was icy, but Belgarath seemed totally unperturbed. "Iftw'd better warn the others," he told Garion. "A wolf would P»8s an ordinary animal without comment. Whatever this thing is, it's unusual, and unusual usually means dangerous. Tell Cc'Nedra to get up here among the rest of us. She's a bit vulnerable trailing along behind the way she is." He considered it. "Don't say anything to alarm her, but have Liseile ride in the carriage with her."
"Liseile?"
"The blond girl. The one with the dimples."
"I know who she is, Grandfather. Wouldn't Durnik—or maybe Toth—be a better idea?"
"No. If either of them got in the carriage with Ce'Nedra, she'd know something was wrong, and that might frighten her. An animal who's hunting can smell fear. Let's not expose her to that kind of danger. Liselle's very well trained, and she's probably got two or three daggers hidden hi various places." He grinned slyly. "I'd imagine Silk could tell you where they are," he added.
"Father!" Polgara gasped.
"You mean you didn't know, Pol? My goodness, how unobservant of you."
"One for your side," Garion noted.
"I'm glad you liked it." Belgarath smirked at Polgara.
Garion turned Chretienne so that his aunt would not see his smile.
They took a bit more care setting up camp that night, choosing a small grove of aspens backed by a steep cliff and with a deep mountain river at its front. As the sun sank into the eternal snowfields above them and twilight filled the ravines and gorges with azure shadows, Beldin returned from his wide-ranging vigil. "Isn't it a bit early to be stopping?" he rasped after he had shimmered and changed.
"The horses are tired," Belgarath replied, casting a sidelong glance at Ce'Nedra. "This is a very sleep trail."
"Wait a bit," Beldin told him, limping toward the fire. "It gets steeper on up ahead."
"What happened to your foot?"
"I had a little disagreement with an eagle—stupid birds, eagles. He couldn't tell the difference between a hawk and a pigeon. I had to educate him. He bit me while I was tearing out a sizable number of his wing feathers.”
"Uncle," Polgara said reproachfully.
"He started it."
"Are there any soldiers coming up behind us?" Belgarath asked him.
“Some Darshivans. They're two or three days behind, though.
Urvon's army is retreating. Now that he and Nahaz are gone, there's not much point in their staying."
"That gets at least some of the troops off our backs," Silk said.
"Don't be too quick to start gloating," Beldin told him. "With the Guardsmen and the Karands gone, the Darshivans are free to concentrate on us."
"That's true, I suppose. Do you think they know we're here?"
"Zandramas does, and I don't think she'd hide the information from her soldiers. You'll probably hit snow sometime late tomorrow. You might want to be thinking about some way to hide your tracks." He looked around. "Where's your wolf?" be asked Garion.
“Hunting. She's been looking for signs of her pack.”
"That brings something up," Belgarath said quietly, looking around to make sure that Ce'Nedra was out of earshot. ' The wolf told Garion that there's a large animal of some kind in this area. Pol's going to go out and take a look around tonight, but it might not hurt if you nosed around tomorrow, as well. I'm not in the mood for any surprises.”
"I'll see what I can find."
Sadi and Velvet sat on the far side of the fire. They had placed the little earthenware bottle on its side and were trying to coax Zith and her children out with morsels of cheese. "I wish we had some milk," Sadi said in his contralto voice. "Milk is very good for young snakes. It strengthens their teeth."
"I'll remember that," Velvet said.
"Were you planning a career as a snakeherdess, Margravine?"
"They're nice little creatures," she replied. "They're clean and quiet, and they don't eat very much. Besides, they're very useful in emergencies.”
He smiled at her affectionately. “We'll make a Nyissan of youyrt,Liselle."
"Not ifIcan help it," Silk muttered darkly to Garion.
They had broiled trout for supper that evening. After Durnik and Tb(h had finished setting up their encampment, they had adjourned to the riverbank with their poles and lures. Durnik's recent elevation to disciplehood had changed him in some ways, but bad not lessened his appetite for his favorite pastime. It was no longer necessary for him and his mute friend even to discuss Ifcese excursions. Any time they camped in the vicinity of a lake or stream, their reaction was automatic.
After supper, Polgara flew off into the shadowy forest, but when she returned, she reported having seen no sign of the large beast the she-wolf had warned them about.
It was cold the following morning, and there was a trace of frost in the air. The horses' breath steamed in the mountain air as they set out, and Garion and the others rode with their cloaks wrapped tightly about them.
As Beldin had predicted, they reached the snow line late that afternoon. The first windrows of white in the wagon ruts were thin and crusty, but farther on ahead they could see deeper drifts. They made camp below the snow and set out again early the following morning. Silk had devised a sort of yoke for one of the packhorses, and trailing on ropes behind the yoke were a dozen or so head-size round rocks. The little man critically examined the tracks the rocks made in the snow as they started up the track into the world of perpetual white. "Good enough," he said in a self-congratulatory tone.
"I don't quite see the purpose of your contrivance, Prince Kheldar," Sadi confessed.
"The rocks leave trails that look about the same as wagon tracks," Silk explained. "Horse tracks by themselves might make the soldiers coming up behind us suspicious. Wagon tracks on a caravan route aren't going to look all that remarkable."
“Clever,” the eunuch said, “but why not just cut bushes and drag them behind us?"
Silk shook his head. "If you brush out all the tracks in the snow, it looks even more suspicious. This is a fairly well-traveled route."
"You think of everything, don't you?"
"Sneaking was his major field of study at the academy," Velvet said from the little carriage she shared with Ce'Nedra and the wolf pup. "Sometimes he sneaks just to keep in practice."
"I don't know if I'd go (hat far, Liselle," the little man objected in a pained tone.
"Don't you?"
"Well, yes, I suppose so, but you don't have to come right out and say it—and 'sneak' has such an ugly ring to it."
"Can you mink of a better term?"
"Well, 'evasion' sounds a bit nicer, doesn't it?"
"Since it means the same thing, why quibble over terminology?" She smiled winsomely at him, her cheeks dimpling.
"It's a question of style, Liselle."
The caravan track grew steeper, and the snow had piled in deeper and deeper drifts along the sides. Miles-long plumes of snow blew from the mountaintops ahead, and the wind grew stronger with a biting, arid chill to it.
About noon, the peaks ahead were suddenly obscured by an ominous-looking cloudbank rolling in from the west, and the die-wolf came loping down the track to meet them. "One advises that you seek shelter for the pack and your beasts," she said with a peculiar kind of urgency.
"Have you found the creature who dwells here?" Garion asked.
; "No. This is more dangerous." She looked meaningfully back over her shoulder at the approaching cloud.
"One will tell the pack-leader."
"That is proper." She pointed her muzzle at Zakath. "Have this one follow me. There are trees a short way ahead. He and I will find a suitable place."
"She wants you to go with her," Garion told the Mallorean. "We’ve got bad weather coming, and she thinks we should take shelter in some trees just ahead. Find a place, and I'll go warn the others."
"A blizzard?" Zakath asked.
"I'd guess so. It takes somediing fairly serious in the way of weather to make a wolf nervous." Garion wheeled Chretienne and rode back down to alert the others. The steep, slippery track made haste difficult, and the chill wind was whipping stinging pellets of snow about them by the time they reached the thicket to which the wolf had led Zakath. The trees were slender pine saplings, and they grew very close together. At some time in the not too distant past an avalanche had cut a swath through the thkket and had piled a jumble of limbs and broken trunks against the face of a steep rock cliff. Durnik and loth went to work immediately even as the wind picked up and the snow grew thicker. Garion and the others joined in, and before long they had erected a latticed frame for a long lean-to against the cliff fece. They covered the frame with tent canvas, tying it securely in place and weighting it down with logs. Then they cleared away the interior and led the horses into the lower end of the rode shelter just as the full force of the storm hit.
The wind shrieked insanely, and the thicket seemed to vanish in: the swirling snow.
“Is Beldin going to be all right?" Durnik asked, looking worried.
"You don't have to worry about Beldin," Belgarath said, "He's ridden out storms before. He'll either go above it or change back and bury himself in a snowdrift until it passes.”
"He'll freeze to death!" Ce'Nedra exclaimed,
"Not under the snow, he won't," Belgarath assured her. "Beldin tends to ignore weather." He looked at the she-wolf, who sat on her haunches at the opening of the lean-to staring out at the swirling snow. "One is grateful for your warning, little sister," he said formally.
"One is a member of your pack now, revered leader," she replied with equal formality. "The well-being of all is the responsibility of all."
"Wisely said, little sister."
She wagged her tail but said nothing else.
The blizzard continued for the rest of the day and then on into the night while Garion and the others sat around the fire Durnik had built. Then, about midnight, the wind died as quickly as it had come. The snow continued to sift down among the trees until morning, and then it, too, abated. It had done its work, however. The snow outside the lean-to reached above Garion's knees. "We're going to have to break a trail, I'm afraid," Durnik said soberly.”It's a quarter of a mile back up to that caravan track, and there are all sorts of things hidden under this fresh snow. This is not a good time—or place—to start breaking the horses' legs."
"What about my carriage?" Ce'Nedra asked him.
"I'm afraid we'll have to leave it behind, Ce'Nedra. The snow's just too deep. Even if we could get it back up onto the road, the carriage horse wouldn't be able to drag it through the drifts."
She sighed. "It was such a nice carriage, too." Then she looked at Silk with a perfectly straight face. "I certainly want to thank you for lending it to me, Prince Kheldar," she told him. "I’ve finished with it now, so you can have it back."
It was Toth who broke the initial trail up the steep slope to the caravan track. The others followed behind him, trampling the trail wider and searching for hidden logs and branches with their feet. It took nearly two hours to plow out the trail back to the caravan track, and they were all panting from the exertion at this high altitude.
They started back down toward the lean-to where the ladies waited with the horses, but about halfway down, the wolf suddenly laid back her ears and snarled.
"What is it?" Garion said.
"The creature," she growled. "He hunts."
"Get ready!" Garion shouted to the others. "That animal is out there!" He reached back over his shoulder and drew Iron-grip's sword.
It came out of the thicket on the far side of the avalanche track. Its shaggy coat was clotted with snow, and it shuffled along in a brutish half crouch. Its face was hideous and chillingly familiar. It had piglike eyes sunk beneath heavy brow ridges. Its lower jaw jutted out, and two massive yellow tusks curved up over its cheeks. It opened its mouth and roared, pounding on its vast chest with its fists and rising to its full height. It was almost eight feet tall.
"That's impossible!" Belgarath exclaimed.
"What is it?" Sadi demanded.
"It's an Eldrak," Belgarath said, "and the only place the Bdrakyn live is in Ulgoland."
"I think you're wrong, Belgarath," Zakath disagreed. "That's what's called an ape-bear. There are a few of them in these mountains."
"Do you gentlemen suppose we could discuss its exact species some other time?" Silk suggested. "The main question now is whether we fight or run."
"We can't run in this snow," Garion said grimly. "We're going to have to fight it.”
"I was afraid you might say that,"
"The main thing is to keep it away from the ladies," Durnik said. He looked at the eunuch. "Sadi, would the poison on your dagger kill it?"
Sadi looked dubiously at the shaggy beast. "I'm sure it would," he said, "but that tiling is awfully large. It would take awhile for the poison to work."
"That's it, then," Belgarath decided. "The rest of us will keep its attention and give Sadi time to get around behind it. After he stabs it, we'll fall back and give the poison time to take effect. Spread out, and don't take any chances." He blurred into the form of a wolf.
They moved into a rough half circle, their weapons at the ready as the monster continued to roar and pound on its chest at the edge of the trees, working itself up into a frenzy. Then it bmbered forward with the snow spraying out from its huge feet. Sadi edged his way uphill, his small dagger held low even as Belgarath and the she-wolf darted in to tear at the beast with their fangs.
Garion's mind was working very clearly as he advanced through the deep snow, swinging his sword threateningly. He saw that this creature was not as quick as Grul the Eldrak had been. It was not able to respond to the sudden darting attacks of the wolves, and the snow around it was soon spotted with its blood. It roared in frustration and rage and made a desperate rush at Durnik. Toth, however, stepped in and drove the tip of his heavy staff squarely into the beast's face. It howled in pain and spread its huge arms wide to catch the big mute in a crushing embrace, but Garion slashed it across one shoulder with his sword even as Zakath ducked under the other shaggy arm and gashed it across the chest and belly with whiplike sword strokes.
The creature bellowed, and its blood spurted from its wounds.
"Any time now, Sadi," Silk said urgently, ducking and feinting and trying to get a clean throw with one of his heavy daggers.
The wolves continued their harrying attacks on the animal's flanks and legs as Sadi cautiously advanced on the raging beast's back. Desperately the creature flailed about with its huge arms, trying to keep its attackers away.
Then, with almost surgical precision, the she-wolf lunged in and ripped the heavy muscle at the back of the beast's left knee with her fangs.
The agonized shriek was dreadful—all the more so because it was strangely human. The shaggy beast toppled backward, clutching at its maimed leg.
Garion reversed his great sword, grasping the crosspiece of the hilt, bestrode the writhing body and raised the weapon, intending to drive the point full into the shaggy chest.
"Please!" it cried, its brutish face twisted in agony and terror. "Please don't kill me!"
CHAPTER TWO
It was a Grolim. The huge beast lying in the bloodstained snow blurred and changed even as Garion's friends moved m with their weapons ready to deliver the last fatal strokes.
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"Wait!" Durnik said sharply. "It's a man!" They stopped, staring at the dreadfully wounded priest Ivine in the snow.
Garion bleakly set the point of his sword under the Grolim's chin. He was terribly angry. "All right," he said in a cold voice, Ttfk—and I think you'd better be very convincing. Who out you up to this?"
"It was Naradas," the Grolirn groaned, "archpriest of the tenpleatHemil."
"The henchman of Zandramas?" Garion demanded. "The «ne with white eyes?"
"Yes. I was only doing what he commanded. Please don't
kill me."
"Why did he tell you to attack us?"
"I was supposed to kill one of you."
"Which one?"
"He didn't care. He just said to make sure that one of you
died."
"They're still playing that tired old game," Silk noted, sheathing his daggers. "Grolims are so unimaginative."
Sadi looked inquiringly at Garion, holding up his slim little knife suggestively.
"No!" Eriond said sharply.
Garion hesitated. "He's right, Sadi," he said finally. "We can't just kill him in cold blood."
"Alorns." Sadi sighed, rolling his eyes up toward the clearing sky. "You do know, of course, that if we leave him here in this condition, he'll die anyway. And if we try to take him along, he'll delay us—not to mention the fact that he's hardly the sort to be trusted."
"Eriond," Garion said, "why don't you go get Aunt Pol? We'd better get those wounds of his tended before he bleeds to death." He looked at Belgarath, who had changed form again. "Any objections?" he asked.
"I didn't say anything."
"I appreciate that."
“ You should have killed him before he changed form on you,” a familiar harsh voice came from the thicket behind them. Beldin was sitting on a log, gnawing at something that was uncooked and still had a few feathers clinging to it.
"I suppose it didn't occur to you to give us a hand?" Belgarath asked acidly.
“You were doing all right." The dwarf shrugged. He belched and tossed the remains of his breakfast to the she-wolf.
"One is grateful," she said politely as her jaws crunched into the half-eaten carcass. Garion could not be sure that Beldin understood, though he guessed that the gnarled little man probably did.
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