Pawn Of Prophecy Part 30

Anheg winced.

"He's a Grolim," Silk said. "They probably won't find him, but they'll take the kingdom apart looking. Your gold is safe, your warriors get a bit of exercise, you get a reputation for generosity, and, with every man in Cherek looking for him with an axe, Asharak's going to be much to busy hiding to stir up any more mischief. A man whose head is more valuable to others than it is to himself has little time for foolishness."

"Prince Kheldar," Anheg said gravely, "you are a devious man."

"I try, King Anheg," Silk said with an ironic bow.

"I don't suppose you'd care to come to work for me?" the King of Cherek offered.

"Anheg!" Rhodar protested.

Silk sighed. "Blood, King Anheg," he said. "I'm committed to my uncle by our bonds of kins.h.i.+p. I'd be interested to hear your offer, though. It might help in future negotiations about compensation for my services."

Queen Porenn's laughter was like a small silver bell, and King Rhodar's face became tragic. "You see," he said. "I'm absolutely surrounded by traitors. What's a poor fat old man to do?"

A grim-looking warrior entered the hall and marched up to Anheg. "It's done, King," he said. "Do you want to look at his head?"

"No," Anheg said shortly.

"Should we put it on a pole near the harbor?" The warrior asked.

"No," Anheg said. "Jarvik was a brave man once and my kinsman by marriage. Have him delivered to his wife for proper burial."

The warrior bowed and left the hall.

"This problem of the Grolim, Asharak, interests me," Queen Islena said to Aunt Pol. "Might we not between us, Lady Polgara, devise a way to locate him?" Her expression had a certain quality of self-importance to it.

Mister Wolf spoke quickly before Aunt Pol could answer. "Bravely spoken, Islena," he said. "But we couldn't allow the Queen of Cherek to take such a risk. I'm sure your skills are formidable, but such a search opens the mind completely. If Asharak felt you looking for him he'd retaliate instantly. Polgara wouldn't be in any danger, but I'm afraid your mind could be blown out like a candle. It would be a great shame to have the Queen of Cherek live out the rest of her life as a raving lunatic."

Islena turned suddenly very pale and did not see the sly wink Mister Wolf directed at Anheg.

"I couldn't permit it.," Anheg said firmly. "My Queen is far too precious for me to allow her to take such a terrible risk."

"I must accede to the will of my Lord," Islena said in a relieved tone. "By his command I withdraw my suggestion."

"The courage of my Queen honors me," Anheg said with an absolutely straight face.

Islena bowed and backed away rather quickly. Aunt Pol looked at Mister Wolf with one raised eyebrow, but let it pa.s.s.

Wolf's expression became more serious as he rose from the chair in which he had been sitting. "I think the time has come to make some decisions," he said. "Things are beginning to move too fast for any more delay." He looked at Anheg. "Is there some place where we can speak without risk of being overheard?"

"There's a chamber in one of the towers," Anheg said. "I thought about it before our first meeting but-" He paused and looked at Cho-Hag.

"You shouldn't let it concern you," Cho-Hag said. "I can manage stairs if I have to, and it would have been better for me to have been a little inconvenienced than to have Jarvik's spy overhear us."

"I'll stay with Garion," Durnik said to Aunt Pol.

Aunt Pol shook her head firmly. "No," she said. "As long as Asharak is on the loose in Cherek, I don't want him out of my sight."

"Shall we go then?" Mister Wolf said. "It's getting late, and I want to leave first thing in the morning. The trail I was following is getting colder."

Queen Islena, still looking shaken stood to one side with Porenn and Silar and made no effort to follow as King Anheg led the way from the throne room.

I'll let you know what happens, King Rhodar signalled to his queen.

Of course, Porenn gestured back. Her face was placid, but the snap of her fingers betrayed her irritability.

Calmly, child, Rhodar's fingers told her. We're guests here and have to obey local customs.

Whatever my Lord commands, she replied with a tilt of her hands that spoke whole volumes of sarcasm.

With Hettar's help, King Cho-Hag managed the stairs although his progress was painfully slow. "I apologize for this," he puffed, stopping halfway to catch his breath. "It's as tiresome for me as it is for you."

King Anheg posted guards at the foot of the stairs, then came up and closed the heavy door behind him. "Light the fire, cousin," he said to Barak. "We might as well be comfortable."

Barak nodded and put a torch to the wood in the fireplace.

The chamber was round and not too s.p.a.cious, but there was adequate room for them all and chairs and benches to sit on.

Mister Wolf stood at one of the windows, looking down at the twinkling lights of Val Alorn below. "I've always been fond of towers," he said, almost to himself. "My Master lived in one like this, and I enjoyed the time I spent there."

"I'd give my life to have known Aldur," Cho-Hag said softly. "Was he really surrounded by light as some say?"

"He seemed quite ordinary to me," Mister Wolf said. "I lived with him for five years before I even knew who he was."

"Was he really as wise as we're told?" Anheg asked.

"Probably wiser," Wolf said. "I was a wild and errant boy when he found me dying in a snowstorm outside his tower. He managed to tame me - though it took him several hundred years to do it." He turned from the window with a deep sigh. "To work then," he said.

"Where will you go to take up the search?" King Fulrach asked.

"Camaar," Wolf said. "I found the trail there, I think it led down into Arendia."

"We'll send warriors with you," Anheg said. "After what happened here, it looks like the Grolims may try to stop you."

"No, Wolf said firmly. "Warriors are useless in dealing with the Grolims. I can't move with an army underfoot, and I won't have time to explain to the King of Arendia why I'm invading his kingdom with a horde of troops at my back. It takes even longer to explain things to Arends than it does to Alorns - impossible as that sounds."

"Don't be uncivil, Father," Aunt Pol said. "It's their world too, and they're concerned."

"you wouldn't necessarily need an army, Belgarath," King Rhodar said, "but wouldn't it be prudent to take along a few good men?"

There's very little that Polgara and I can't deal with by ourselves," Wolf said, "and Silk, Barak and Durnik are along to deal with the more mundane problems. The smaller our group, the less attention we'll attract." He turned to Cho-Hag. "As long as we're on the subject, though, I'd like to have your son with us. We're likely to need his rather specialized talents."

"Impossible," Hettar said flatly. "I have to remain with my father."

"No, Hettar," Cho-Hag said. "I don't intend for you to live out your life as a cripple's legs."

"I've never felt any restriction in serving you, Father," Hettar said. "There are plenty of others with the same talents I have. Let the Ancient One choose another."

"How many other Sha-Darim are there among the Algars?" Mister Wolf asked gravely?

Hettar looked at him sharply as if trying to tell him something with his eyes.

King Cho-Hag drew his breath sharply. "Hettar," he asked, "is this true?"

Hettar shrugged. "It may be, Father," he said. "I didn't think it was important."

Cho-Hag looked at Mister Wolf.

Wolf nodded. "It's true," he said. "I knew it the first time I saw him. He's a Sha-Dar. He had to find out for himself, though."

Cho-Hag's eyes suddenly brimmed with tears. "My son!" he said proudly, pulling Hettar into a rough embrace.

"It's no great thing, Father," Hettar said quietly, as if suddenly embarra.s.sed.

"What are they talking about? Garion whispered to Silk.

"It's something the Algars take very seriously," Silk said softly. "They think that there are some people who can talk to horses with their thoughts alone. They call these people the Sha-Darim - Clan-Chiefs of the horses. It's very rare - maybe only two or three in a whole generation. It's instant n.o.bility for any Algar who has it. Cho-Hag's going to explode with pride when he gets back to Algaria."

"Is it that important?" Garion asked.

Silk shrugged. "The Algars seem to think so," he said. "All the clans gather at the Stronghold when they find a new Sha-Dar. The whole nation celebrates for six weeks. There are all kinds of gifts. Hettar'll be a rich man if he chooses to accept them. He may not. He's a strange man."

"You must go," Cho-Hag said to Hettar. "The pride of Algaria goes with you, your duty is clear."

"As my father decides," Hettar said reluctantly.

"Good," Mister Wolf said. "How long will it take you to go to Algaria, pick up a dozen or so of your best horses and take them to Camaar?"

Hettar thought for a moment. "Two weeks," he said, "if there aren't any blizzards in the mountains of Sendaria."

"We'll all leave here in the morning then," Wolf said. "Anheg can give you a s.h.i.+p. Take the horses along the Great North Road to the place a few leagues east of Camaar where another road strikes off to the south. It fords the Great Camaar River and runs down to join the Great West Road at the ruins of Vo Wacune in northern Arendia. We'll meet you there in two weeks."

Hettar nodded.

"We'll also be joined at Vo Wacune by an Asturian Arend," Wolf went on, "and somewhat later by a Mimbrate. They might be useful to us in the south."

"And will also fulfill the prophecies," Anheg said cryptically.

Wolf shrugged, his bright blue eyes twinkling suddenly. "I don't object to fulfilling prophecies," he said, "as long as it doesn't inconvenience me too much."

"Is there anything we can do to help in the search?" Brand asked.

You'llhave enough to do," Wold said. "No matter how our search turns out, it's obvious that the Angaraks are getting ready for some kind of major action. If we're successful, they might hesitate, but Angaraks don't think the way we do. Even after what happened at Vo Mimbre, they may decide to risk an all-out attack on the west. It could be that they are responding to prophecies of their own that we don't know anything about. In any event, I think you should be ready for something fairly major from them. You'll need to make preparations."

Anheg grinned wolfishly. "We've been preparing for them for five thousand years," he said. "This time we'll purge the whole world of this Angarak infection. When Torak One-eye awakes, he'll find himself as alone as Mara - and just as powerless."

"Maybe," Mister Wolf said, "but don't plan the victory celebration until the war's over. Make your preparations quietly, and don't sir up the people in your kingdoms any more than you have to. The west is crawling with Grolims, and they're watching everything we do. The trail I'll be following could lead me into Cthol Murgos, and I'd rather not have to deal with an army of Murgos ma.s.sed on the border."

"I can play the watching game too," King Rhodar said with a grim look on his plump face. "Probably even better than the Grolims. It's time to send a few more caravans to the east. The Angaraks won't move without help from the east, and the Malloreans will have to cross over into Gar og Nadrak before they deploy south. A bribe or two here and there, a few barrels of strong ale in the right mining camps - who knows what a bit of diligent corruption might turn up? A chance word or two could give us several months' warning."

If they're planning anything major, the Thulls will be building supply dumps along the eastern escarpment," Cho-Hag said. "Thulls aren't bright, and it's easy to observe them without being seen. I'll increase my patrols along those mountains. With a little luck, we might be able to antic.i.p.ate their invasion route. Is there anything else we can do to help you, Belgarath?"

Mister Wolf thought for a moment. Suddenly he grinned. "I'm certain our theif is listening very hard, waiting for one of us to speak his name or the name of the thing he stole. Sooner or later someone's bound to make a slip; and once he locates us, he'll be able to hear every word we say. Instead of trying to gag ourselves, I think it might be better if we gave him something to listen to. If you can arrange it, I'd like every minstel ans storyteller in the north start retelling certain old stories - you know the ones. When those names start sounding in every village marketplace north of the Camaar River, it'll set up a roaring in his ears like a thunderstorm. If nothing else it will give us the freedom to speak. In time he'll get tired of it and stop listening."

"It's getting late, Father," Aunt Pol reminded him.

Wolf nodded. "We're playing a deadly game," he told them all, "but our enemies are playing one just as deadly. Their danger's as great as ours, and right now, no one can predict what will finally happen. Make your preparations and send out men you can trust to keep watch. Be patient and don't do anything rash. That could be more dangerous than anything else right now. At the moment, Polgara and I are the only ones who can act. You're going to have to trust us. I know that sometimes some of the things we've done have seemed a bit strange, but there are reasons for what we do. Please don't interfere again. I'll get word to you now and then about our progress; if I need you to do anything else, I'll let you know. All right?"

The kings nodded gravely, and everyone rose to his feet.

Anheg stepped over to Mister Wolf. "Could you come by my study in an hour or so, Belgarath?" he said quietly. "I'd like to have a few words with you and Polgara before your departure."

"If you wish, Anheg," Mister Wolf said.

"Come along, Garion," Aunt Pol said. "We have packing to take care of."

Garion, a little awed at the solemnity of the discussions, rose quietly and followed her to the door.

Chapter Twenty.

King Anheg's study was a large, cluttered room high in a square tower. Books bound in heavy leather lay everywhere, and strange devices with gears and pulleys and tiny bra.s.s chains sat on tables and stands. Intricately drawn maps, with beautiful illuminations were pinned up on the walls, and the floor was littered with sc.r.a.ps of parchment covered with tiny writing. King Anheg, hus coa.r.s.e black hair hanging in his eyes, sat at a slanted table in the soft glow of a pair of candles studying a large book written on thin sheets of crackling parchment.

The guard at the door let them enter without a word, and Mister Wolf stepped briskly into the center of the room. "You wanted to see us, Anheg?"

The King of Cherek straightened from his book and laid it aside. "Belgarath," he said with a short nod of greeting. "Polgara." He glanced at Garion who stood uncertainly near the door.

"I meant what I said earlier," Aunt Pol said. "I'm not going to let him out of my sight until I know for certain he's out of the reach of that Grolim, Asharak."

"Anything you say, Polgara," Anheg said. "Come in, Garion."

"I see that you are continuing your studies," Mister Wolf said approvingly, glancing at the littered room.

"There's so much to learn," Anheg said with a helpless gesture that included all the welter of books and papers and strange machines. "I have a feeling that I might have been happier if you'd never introduced me to this impossible task."

"You asked me," said Wolf simply.

"You could have said no." Anheg laughed. Then his brutish face turned serious. He glanced once more at Garion and began to speak in an obviously oblique manner. "I don't want to interfere," he said, "but the behavior of this Asharak concerns me."

Garion moved away from Aunt Pol and began to study one of the strange little machines sitting on a nearby table, being careful not to touch it.

"We'll take care of Asharak," Aunt Pol said.