The Seeress of Kell Read online

  ‘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 unc
ooked 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.’

  ‘Let’s not take any chances,’ Belgarath said, also covering his eyes with a piece of cloth. He smiled. ‘Maybe this is how the Dalasian wizards struck the Grolims blind when they tried to go to Kell.’

  ‘I’d be terribly disappointed if it were that simple,’ Velvet said, trying a scarf across her eyes. ‘I like to have my magic nice and inexplicable. Snow blindness would be such a prosaic thing.’

  They plowed on through the drifts, climbing now toward a high pass between two towering peaks. It was midafternoon when they reached the pass. The track wound up between massive boulders, but straightened out when they reached the summit. They stopped to rest the horses and to look out over the vast wilderness which lay beyond the pass.

  Toth unbound his eyes and gestured to Durnik. The smith pulled down his protective scarf, and the big mute pointed. Durnik’s face was suddenly filled with awe. ‘Look!’ he said in a half-choked whisper.

  The rest of them also uncovered their eyes.

  ‘Belar!’ Silk gasped. ‘Nothing can be that big!’

  The peaks around them that had seemed so enormous shrank into insignificance. Standing quite alone in solitary splendor rose a mountain so huge and high that the mind could not comprehend it. It was perfectly symmetrical, a steep, white cone with sharply sloping sides. Its base was enormous, and its summit soared thousands of feet above nearby peaks. An absolute calm seemed to surround it, as if, having achieved everything that any mountain could, it simply existed.

  ‘It’s the highest peak in the world,’ Zakath said very quietly. ‘The scholars at the University of Melcene have calculated its height and compared that with the heights of peaks on the western continent. It’s thousands of feet higher than any other mountain.’

  ‘Please, Zakath,’ Silk said with a pained look, ‘don’t tell me how high.’

  Zakath looked puzzled.

  ‘As you may have noticed, I’m not really a very large person. Immensity depresses me. I’ll admit that your mountain is bigger than I am. I just don’t want to know how much bigger.’

  Toth was gesturing to Durnik again.

  ‘He says that Kell lies in the shadow of that mountain,’ the smith said.

  ‘That’s a little unspecific, Goodman,’ Sadi said wryly. ‘I’d guess that about half the continent lies in the shadow of that thing.’

  Beldin came soaring in again. ‘Big, isn’t it?’ he said, squinting at the huge white peak looming into the sky.

  ‘We noticed,’ Belgarath replied. ‘What’s on up ahead?’

  ‘A fair amount of downhill going – at
least until you get to the slopes of that monster there.’

  ‘I can see that from here.’

  ‘Congratulations. I found a place where you can get rid of your Grolim. Several places, actually.’

  ‘Exactly how do you mean “get rid of”, uncle?’ Polgara asked suspiciously.

  ‘There are quite a few high cliffs alongside this track on the way down,’ he replied blandly. ‘Accidents do happen, you know.’

  ‘Out of the question. I didn’t treat his wounds just to keep him going until you found time to throw him off a cliff.’

  ‘Polgara, you’re interfering with the practice of my religion.’

  She raised one eyebrow.

  ‘I thought you knew. It’s an article of the faith: “Kill every Grolim you come across.”’

  ‘I might even consider converting to that religion,’ Zakath said.

  ‘Are you absolutely certain you’re not Arendish?’ Garion said to him.

  Beldin sighed. ‘Since you’re going to be such a spoilsport about this, Pol, I found a group of sheepherders below the snowline.’

  ‘Shepherds, uncle,’ she corrected.

  ‘It means the same thing. If you really look at it, it’s even the same word.’

  ‘Shepherd sounds nicer.’

  ‘Nicer,’ he snorted. ‘Sheep are stupid, they smell bad, and they taste worse. Anybody who spends his life tending them is either defective or degenerate.’

  ‘You’re in rare form this afternoon,’ Belgarath congratulated him.

  ‘It’s been a great day for flying,’ Beldin explained with a broad grin. ‘Do you have any idea of how much warm air comes up off new snow when the sun hits it? I flew up so high once that I started getting spots in front of my eyes.’

  ‘That’s stupid, uncle,’ Polgara snapped. ‘You should never go up where the air’s that thin.’

  ‘We’re all entitled to a little stupidity now and then.’ He shrugged. ‘And the dive from that height is unbelievable. Why don’t you join me, and I’ll show you.’

  ‘Will you never grow up?’