SEERESS OF KELL

 

CHAPTER ONE

THE AIR WAS thin and cool and richly scented with the odor of trees which shed no leaves but stood dark green and resinous from one end of their lives to the other. The sunlight on the snow-fields above them was dazzling, and the sound of tumbling water seething down and down rocky streambeds to feed rivers leagues below on the plains of Darshiva and Gandahar was constantly in their ears. That tumble and roar of waters rushing to their destined meeting with the great River Magan was accompanied by the soft, melancholy sighing of an endless wind passing through the deep green forest of pine and fir and spruce which clad hills that reached toward the sky in a kind of unthinking yearning. The caravan route Garion and his friends followed rose up and up, winding along streambeds and mounting the sides of ridges. From atop each ridge they could see yet another, and looming over all was the spine of the continent where peaks beyond imagining soared upward to touch the very vault of heaven, peaks pure and pristine in their mantle of eternal snow. Garion had spent time in mountains before, but never had he seen such enormous peaks. He knew that those colossal spires were leagues and leagues away, but the mountain air was so clear that it seemed he could almost reach out and touch them.

There was an abiding peace here, a peace that washed away the turmoil and anxiety that had beset them all on the plains below and somehow erased care and even thought. Each turn and each ridge top brought new vistas, each filled with more splendor than the last until they could only ride in silence and wonder. The works of man shrank into insignificance here. Man would never, could never, touch these eternal mountains.

It was summer, and the days were long and filled with sunlight. Birds sang from the trees beside the winding track, and the smell of sun-warmed evergreens was touched lightly with the delicate odors of the acre upon acre of wildflowers carpeting the steep meadows. Occasionally, the wild, shrill cry of an eagle echoed from the rocks.

‘Have you ever considered moving your capital?’ Garion asked the Emperor of Mallorea, who rode beside him. His tone was hushed. To speak in a louder voice would somehow profane what lay around them.

‘No, not really, Garion,’ Zakath replied. ‘My government wouldn’t function here. The bureaucracy is largely Melcene. Melcenes appear to be prosaic people, but actually they aren’t. I’m afraid my officials would spend about half their time looking at the scenery and the other half writing bad poetry. Nobody would get any work done. Besides, you have no idea what it’s like up here in the winter.’

‘Snow?’

Zakath nodded. ‘People up here don’t bother to measure it in inches. They measure it in feet.’

‘Are there people up here? I haven’t seen any.’

‘There are a few – fur-trappers, gold-hunters, that sort of thing.’ Zakath smiled faintly. ‘I think it’s just an excuse, really. Some people prefer solitude.’

‘This is a good place for it.’

The Emperor of Mallorea had changed since they had left Atesca’s enclave on the banks of the Magan. He was leaner now, and the dead look was gone from his eyes. Like Garion and all the rest, he rode warily, his eyes and ears constantly alert. It was not so much his outward aspect that marked the change in him, however. Zakath had always been a pensive, even melancholy man, given often to periods of black depression, but filled at the same time with a cold ambition. Garion had often felt that the Mallorean’s ambition and his apparent hunger for power was not so much a driving need in him as it had been a kind of continual testing of himself, and, at perhaps a deeper level, deriving from an urge toward self-destruction. It had seemed almost that Zakath had hurled himself and all the resources of his empire into impossible struggles in the secret hope that eventually he would encounter someone strong enough to kill him and thereby relieve him of the burden of a life which was barely tolerable to him.

Such was no longer the case. His meeting with Cyradis on the banks of the Magan had forever changed him. A world which had always been flat and stale now seemed to be all new to him. At times, Garion even thought he detected a faint touch of hope in his friend’s face, and hope had never been a part of Zakath’s make-up.

As they rounded a wide bend in the track, Garion saw the she-wolf he had found in the dead forest back in Darshiva. She sat patiently on her haunches waiting for them. Increasingly, the behavior of the wolf puzzled him. Now that her injured paw was healed, she made sporadic sweeps through the surrounding forests in search of her pack, but always returned, seemingly unconcerned about her failure to locate them. It was as if she were perfectly content to remain with them as a member of their most unusual pack. So long as they were in forests and uninhabited mountains, this peculiarity of hers caused no particular problems, but they would not always be in the wilderness, and the appearance of an untamed and probably nervous wolf on the busy street of a populous city would be likely to attract attention, to say the very least.

‘How is it with you, little sister?’ he asked her politely in the language of wolves.

‘It is well,’ she replied.

‘Did you find any traces of your pack?’

‘There are many other wolves about, but they are not of my kindred. One will remain with you for yet a while longer. Where is the young one?’

Garion glanced back over his shoulder at the little two-wheeled carriage trundling along behind them. ‘He sits beside my mate in the thing with round feet.’

The wolf sighed. ‘If he sits much longer, he will no longer be able to run or hunt,’ she said disapprovingly, ‘and if your mate continues to feed him so much, she will stretch his belly, and he will not survive a lean season when there is little food.’

‘One will speak with her about it.’

‘Will she listen?’

‘Probably not, but one will speak with her all the same. She is fond of the young one and takes pleasure in having him near her.’

‘Soon one will need to teach him how to hunt.’

‘Yes. One knows. One will explain that to one’s mate.’

‘One is grateful.’ She paused, looking about a bit warily. ‘Proceed with some caution,’ she warned. ‘There is a creature who dwells here. One has caught his scent several times, though one has not seen him. He is quite large, however.’

‘How large?’

‘Larger than the beast upon which you sit.’ She looked pointedly at Chretienne. Familiarity had made the big gray stallion less nervous in the presence of the she-wolf, though Garion suspected that he would be much happier if she did not come quite so close.

‘One will tell the pack-leader of what you have said,’ Garion promised. For some reason, the she-wolf avoided Belgarath. Garion surmised that her behavior might reflect some obscure facet of wolfly etiquette of which he was not aware.

‘One will continue one’s search then,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘It may happen that one will come upon this beast, and then we will know him.’ She paused. ‘His scent tells one that he is dangerous, however. He feeds on all things – even on things which we would shun.’ Then she turned and loped off into the forest, moving swiftly and silently.

‘That’s really uncanny, you know,’ Zakath observed. ‘I’ve heard men talk to animals before, but never in their own language.’

‘It’s a family peculiarity,’ Garion smiled. ‘At first I didn’t believe it either. Birds used to come and talk to Aunt Pol all the time – usually about their eggs. Birds are awfully fond of talking about their eggs, I understand. They can be very silly at times. Wolves are much more dignified.’ He paused a moment. ‘You don’t necessarily have to tell Aunt Pol I said that,’ he added.

‘Subterfuge, Garion?’ Zakath laughed.

‘Prudence,’ Garion corrected. ‘I have to go talk with Belgarath. Keep your eyes open. The wolf says that there’s some kind of animal out there somewhere. She says it’s bigger than a horse and very dangerous. She hinted at the fact that it’s a man-eater.’

‘What does it look like?’

‘She hasn’t seen it. She’s smelled it, though, and seen its tracks.’

‘I’ll watch for it.’

‘Good idea.’ Garion turned and rode back to where Belgarath and Aunt Pol were deep in a discussion.

‘Durnik needs a tower somewhere in the Vale,’ Belgarath was saying.

‘I don’t see why, father,’ Polgara replied.

‘All of Aldur’s disciples have towers, Pol. It’s the custom.’

‘Old customs persist – even when there’s no longer any need for them.’

‘He’s going to need to study, Pol. How can he possibly study with you underfoot all the time?’

She gave him a long, chilly stare.

‘Maybe I should rephrase that.’

‘Take as long as you need, father. I’m willing to wait.’

‘Grandfather,’ Garion said, reining in. ‘I was just talking with the wolf, and she says there’s a very large animal out in the forest.’

‘A bear maybe?’

‘I don’t think so. She’s caught its scent a few times, and she’d probably recognize the smell of a bear, wouldn’t she?’

‘I’d think so, yes.’

‘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. ‘You’d better warn the others,’ he told Garion. ‘A wolf would pass an ordinary animal without comment. Whatever this thing is, it’s unusual, and unusual usually means dangerous. Tell Ce’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 Liselle ride in the carriage with her.’

‘Liselle?’

‘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 in 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 steep 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 sizeable 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?’ he 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 you yet, Liselle.’

‘Not if I can help it,’ Silk muttered darkly to Garion.

They had broiled trout for supper that evening. After Durnik and Toth 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 had not lessened his appetite for his favorite pastime. It was no longer necessary for him and his mute friend even to discuss these excursions. Anytime 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 pack-horses, and trailing on ropes behind the yoke were a dozen or so head-sized 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 that 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 think 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 she-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 something 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 thicket and had piled a jumble of limbs and broken trunks against the face of a steep rock cliff. Durnik and Toth 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 face. 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 rude 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 slightly 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 half-way 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 Eldrakyn 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 thing is awfully large. It would take a while 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 lumbered 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 cross-piece 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 blood-stained snow blurred and changed even as Garion’s friends moved in with their weapons ready to deliver the last fatal strokes.

‘Wait!’ Durnik said sharply. ‘It’s a man!’

They stopped, staring at the dreadfully wounded priest lying 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, ‘talk – and I think you’d better be very convincing. Who put you up to this?’

‘It was Naradas,’ the Grolim groaned, ‘arch-priest of the temple at Hemil.’

‘The henchman of Zandramas?’ Garion demanded. ‘The one 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.

‘What’s an Eldrak doing here in Mallorea?’ Belgarath asked.

‘It’s not exactly an Eldrak, Belgarath,’ Beldin replied, spitting out a few soggy feathers.

‘All right, but how did a Mallorean Grolim even know what an Eldrak looks like?’

‘You weren’t listening, old man. There are a few of those things up here in these mountains. They’re distantly related to the Eldrakyn, but they’re not the same. They’re not as big, for one thing, and they’re not as smart.’

‘I thought all the monsters lived in Ulgoland.’

‘Use your head, Belgarath. There are Trolls in Cherek, Algroths range down into Arendia and the Dryads live in southern Tolnedra. Then there’s that Dragon. Nobody knows for sure where she lives. There are monsters scattered all over. They’re just a little more concentrated in Ulgo, that’s all.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Belgarath conceded. He looked at Zakath. ‘What did you call the thing?’

‘An ape-bear. It’s probably not too accurate, but the people who live up here aren’t very sophisticated.’

‘Where’s Naradas right now?’ Silk asked the injured Grolim.

‘I saw him at Balasa,’ the Grolim replied. ‘I don’t know where he went from there.’

‘Was Zandramas with him?’

‘I didn’t see her, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t there. The Holy Sorceress doesn’t show herself very often any more.’

‘Because of the lights under her skin?’ the weasel-faced little man asked shrewdly.

The Grolim’s face grew even more pale. ‘We’re forbidden to discuss that – even among ourselves,’ he replied in a frightened tone of voice.

‘That’s all right, friend.’ Silk smiled at him and drawing one of his daggers. ‘You have my permission.’

The Grolim swallowed hard and then nodded.

‘Stout fellow.’ Silk patted him on the shoulder. ‘When did those lights start to appear?’

‘I can’t say for sure. Zandramas was off in the west with Naradas for a long time. The lights had started to appear when she came back. One of the priests at Hemil used to gossip a great deal. He said it was some kind of plague.’

‘Used to?’

‘She found out about what he’d said and had his heart cut out.’

‘That’s the Zandramas we’ve come to know and love, all right.’

Aunt Pol came up along the path trampled through the snow, followed by Ce’Nedra and Velvet. She tended the Grolim’s wounds without comment while Durnik and Toth went back to the lean-to and led out the horses. Then they untied the tent canvas and broke down the frame. When they led the horses up to the place where the wounded Grolim lay, Sadi went to his saddle and opened the red leather case. ‘Just to be on the safe side,’ he muttered to Garion, taking out a little vial.

Garion raised one eyebrow.

‘It won’t hurt him,’ the eunuch assured him. ‘It’ll make him tractable, though. Besides, since you’re in this humanitarian mood, it should also numb the pain of his wounds.’

‘You don’t approve, do you?’ Garion said. ‘That we didn’t kill him, I mean?’

‘I think it’s imprudent, Belgarion,’ Sadi said seriously. ‘Dead enemies are safe enemies. Live ones can come back to haunt you. It’s your decision, though.’

‘I’ll make a concession,’ Garion said. ‘Stay close to him. If he starts getting out of hand, do whatever seems appropriate.’

Sadi smiled faintly. ‘Much better,’ he approved. ‘We’ll teach you the rudiments of practical politics yet.’

They led the horses up the steep hill to the caravan route and mounted. The howling wind which had accompanied the blizzard had scoured most of the snow from the track, although there were deep drifts in sheltered places where the road curved behind bands of trees and rock outcroppings. They made good time when the road was in the open, but it was slow going when they came to the drifts. Now that the storm had passed, the sunlight on the new snow was dazzling, and even though he squinted his eyes nearly shut, Garion found that after about an hour he was beginning to develop a splitting headache.

Silk reined in. ‘I think it’s time for a precaution or two,’ he announced. He took a light scarf from inside his cloak and bound it across his eyes. Garion was suddenly reminded of Relg and the way the cave-born zealot had always covered his eyes when out in the open.

‘A blindfold?’ Sadi asked. ‘Have you suddenly become a seer, Prince Kheldar?’

‘I’m not the sort to have visions, Sadi,’ Silk replied. ‘The scarf is thin enough so that I can see through it. The idea is to protect the eyes from the glare of sunlight on the snow.’

‘It is rather bright, isn’t it?’ Sadi agreed.

‘It is indeed, and if you look at it long enough, it can blind you – at least temporarily.’ Silk adjusted the covering on his eyes. ‘This is a trick the reindeer herders in northern Drasnia came up with. It works fairly well.’