The Malloreon: Book 04 - Sorceress of Darshiva

by David Eddings

  Belgarath scratched at one bearded cheek. ‘Just how good is that elephant cavalry out of Gandahar?’ he asked Silk.

  ‘Pretty close to invincible,’ Silk replied. ‘They drape them in chain mail, and they trample wide paths through opposing armies. If the demons have left the field, Urvon’s army hasn’t got a chance.’

  ‘There are too many people involved in this race anyway,’ Belgarath grunted. ‘Let’s get across the Magan and leave all these armies to their own devices.’

  They ate breakfast and rode out from the farmstead as the first light of dawn began to creep slowly up out of the eastern horizon. Oddly, Garion felt no particular weariness despite a night significantly short on sleep. A great deal had happened since the sun had gone down, and he had much to think about.

  The sun had risen when they reached the great River Magan. Then, following Toth’s gestured directions, they rode slowly southward, looking for a village where they might find a boat large enough to carry them across to Darshiva. The day was warm, and the grass and trees had all been washed clean by the previous night’s storm.

  They came to a small settlement of mud-smeared shacks standing on stilts, with rickety docks thrusting out into the river. A lone fisherman sat at the end of one of the docks negligently holding a long cane pole.

  ‘Talk to him, Durnik,’ Belgarath said. ‘See if he knows where we can hire a boat.’

  The smith nodded and reined his horse around. On an impulse, Garion followed him. They dismounted at the landward end of the dock and walked out toward the fisherman.

  He was a stumpy-looking little fellow, dressed in a homespun tunic and with muddy, baglike shoes on his feet. His bare legs were laced with knotty, purple veins, and they were not very clean. His face was tanned, and he was not so much bearded as unshaven.

  ‘Any luck?’ Durnik asked him.

  ‘See fer yerself,’ the fisherman said, pointing at the wooden tub at his side. He did not turn, but rather kept his eyes intently on the floating red stick to which his line was attached and which dangled his baited hook down into the murky water of the river. The tub was half-full of water, and several foot-long trout swam in circles in it. The fish had angry-looking eyes and jutting lower jaws.

  Durnik squatted down beside the fisherman, his hands on his knees.

  ‘Nice-looking fish,’ he observed.

  ‘A fish is a fish.’ The stumpy fellow shrugged. ‘They look better on the plate than they do in the tub.’

  ‘That’s why we catch them,’ Durnik agreed. ‘What are you using for bait?’

  ‘Tried angleworms earlier,’ the fellow replied laconically. ‘Didn’t seem to interest ’em, so I switched over to fish roe.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever tried that,’ Durnik admitted. ‘How does it work?’

  ‘Caught them five in the last half-hour. Sometimes it makes ’em so excited, you got to go behind a tree to bait your hook to keep ’em from chasin’ you right up onto the bank.’

  ‘I’ll have to try it,’ Durnik said, eyeing the water wistfully. ‘Have you got any idea of where we might be able to hire a boat? We’ve got to go across the river.’

  The fisherman turned and stared at the smith incredulously. ‘To the Darshiva side?’ he exclaimed. ‘Man, are you out of your mind?’

  ‘Is there some trouble over there?’

  ‘Trouble? That don’t even begin to describe what’s happenin’ over there. You ever hear tell of what they call a demon?’

  ‘A few times.’

  ‘You ever seen one?’

  ‘Once I think.’

  ‘There’s no think about it, friend. If you seen one, you’d know.’ The fellow shuddered. ‘They’re just plain awful. Well, sir, the whole of Darshiva’s just crawlin’ with ’em. There’s this Grolim, he come down from the north with a whole pack of ’em snappin’ an’ growlin’ at his heels. Then there’s this other Grolim—a woman, if you can believe that—Zandramas, her name is, an’ she stepped back an’ cast a spell an’ hauled some of her own out of wherever it is they come from, an’ them demons is fightin’ each other over there in Darshiva.’

  ‘We’d heard that there was fighting to the north of here in Peldane.’

  ‘Those are just ordinary troops, and what they’re fightin’ is an ordinary war with swords an’ axes an’ burnin’ pitch an’ all. The demons, they all went across the river lookin’ fer fresh ground to tear up an’ fresh people to eat. They do that, y’ know—demons I mean. They eat folks—alive, most of the time.’

  ‘I’m afraid we still have to go over there,’ Durnik told him.

  ‘I hope yer a good swimmer then. Yer gonna have no luck at all findin’ a boat. Ever’body from here jumped on anythin’ as would float an’ headed downriver t’ward Gandahar. Guess they figgered them wild elephants down there was a whole lot preferable to demons.’

  ‘I think you’re getting a bite,’ Durnik said politely, pointing at the floating stick on the stumpy man’s line. The stick was submerging and popping back to the surface again.

  The fisherman jerked his pole straight up into the air and then swore. ‘Missed ‘im,’ he said.

  ‘You can’t catch them all,’ Durnik said philosophically.

  ‘You can sure try, though.’ The fellow laughed, pulling in his line and rebaiting his hook with a dripping gobbet of fish roe he took from an earthenware bowl at his side.

  ‘I’d try under the dock, myself,’ Durnik advised. ‘Trout always seem to like shade.’

  ‘That’s the good thing about usin’ fish roe fer bait,’ the fisherman said sagely. ‘They kin smell it, an’ they’ll go fer it even if they gotta climb a fence to get there.’ He cast his line out again and absently wiped his hand on the front of his tunic.

  ‘How is it that you stayed behind?’ Durnik asked. ‘I mean, if there’s so much trouble around here, why didn’t you go to Gandahar with the other people who left here?’

  ‘I never lost nothin’ in Gandahar. Them folks is all crazy down there. They spend all their time chasin’ elephants. I mean, what y’ gonna do with a elephant once y’ catch ’im? An’ the fish down there aren’t worth the bait. Besides, this is the first time I’ve had this dock all to myself in the last five years. Most of the time I can’t even get my line in the water, there’s so many out here.’

  ‘Well,’ Durnik said, rising to his feet a little regretfully, ‘I suppose we’d better push on. We’re going to have to find a boat somewhere.’

  ‘I’d sure advise stayin’ away from the Darshiva side, friend,’ the fisherman said seriously. ‘You’d be better off t’ cut yerself a pole an’ sit right here with me until all the trouble blows over.’

  ‘I certainly wish I could,’ Durnik sighed. ‘Good luck, friend.’

  ‘Just bein’ here with my line in the water is the best luck in the world.’ The fellow shrugged, turning his eyes back to the floating stick on his line. ‘If you go over to the Darshiva side, try not t’ get et by demons.’

  ‘I’ll make a special point of it,’ Durnik promised.

  As Garion and his friend walked back along the rickety dock to where their horses were tethered, Durnik smiled. ‘They talk differently in this part of the world, don’t they?’

  ‘Yes,’ Garion agreed, remembering the gabby old man and his pig in the wayside tavern above the plains of Voresebo.

  ‘I sort of like it, though,’ Durnik admitted. ‘It’s kind of free and relaxed and easy, somehow.’

  ‘I wouldn’t necessarily try to imitate it, though, if I were you,’ Garion advised. ‘Aunt Pol might wash your mouth out with soap if you did.’

  ‘Oh,’ Durnik smiled, ‘I don’t think she’d really do that, Garion.’

  ‘She’s your wife—and it’s your mouth.’ Garion shrugged.

  Belgarath was waiting for them atop the grassy hill rising above the village on the river bank. ‘Well?’ he asked.

  ‘The fish are biting,’ Durnik told him seriously.

  Belgarath stared at
him for a moment, then rolled his eyes heavenward and groaned. ‘I meant in Darshiva,’ he said from between clenched teeth.

  ‘I couldn’t really say for sure about that, Belgarath, but if they’re biting on this side, it only stands to reason that they’d be biting over there, too, doesn’t it?’ Durnik’s face was very sincere, and his tone was earnest.

  Belgarath turned and stamped away, muttering to himself.

  When they rejoined the others, Garion briefly repeated the information he and Durnik had gleaned from the solitary man at the end of the dock.

  ‘That puts a whole new complexion on things, doesn’t it?’ Silk said. ‘Now what?’

  ‘If you don’t mind a suggestion, Ancient One,’ Sadi said to Belgarath, ‘I think we might be wise to follow the example of the villagers Belgarion mentioned and go on downriver to Gandahar and find a boat there. It might take us a little longer, but we’ll avoid the demons.’

  Toth shook his head. The huge mute’s usually impassive face had a worried frown on it. He made a quick series of those obscure gestures to Durnik.

  ‘He says we don’t have time,’ the smith translated.

  ‘Is there some kind of special time when we have to get to Kell?’ Silk asked.

  Toth gestured again, his big hands moving rapidly.

  ‘He says that Kell has been sealed off from the rest of Dalasia,’ Durnik told them. ‘Cyradis has made arrangements for us to get through, but once she leaves, the other seers will seal it off again.’

  ‘Leaves?’ Belgarath said with some surprise. ‘Where’s she going?’

  Durnik looked inquiringly at Toth, and the mute gestured some more.

  ‘Oh,’ Durnik said, ‘I see.’ He turned back to Belgarath. ‘She needs to go to the place of the meeting soon. She has to be there when it happens so that she can make the Choice.’

  ‘Couldn’t she just travel with us?’ Velvet asked.

  Toth shook his head again, and his gestures became more emphatic.

  ‘I’m not sure I got all that,’ Durnik confessed. ‘Tell me if I make any mistakes.’ He turned once more. ‘He says that something’s supposed to happen before we get to Kell, but if it doesn’t, she’ll have to travel alone.’

  ‘Did he say what this something is going to be?’ Polgara asked her husband.

  ‘The way I understand it, he doesn’t know, Pol.’

  ‘Does he know where it’s going to happen?’ Belgarath asked intently.

  Toth spread his hands.

  ‘That young lady’s really beginning to irritate me.’ The old man looked at Beldin. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I don’t see that we have much choice, Belgarath. If this event’s supposed to happen in Darshiva and we avoid the place, it might not happen at all, and the whole business could hinge on that.’

  ‘All right,’ Belgarath said. ‘We go to Darshiva then. We’ve dodged demons before. The main thing right now is to get across the river before Zakath gets here.’

  ‘We’re going to need a boat,’ Durnik said.

  ‘I’ll go see if I can find one,’ Beldin said, crouching and spreading his arms.

  ‘You don’t have to be too selective,’ Belgarath said. ‘Anything that floats should do it.’

  ‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ Beldin replied and soared away.

  Part Three

  DARSHIVA

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was not really a boat. In point of fact, it was a river barge, and its long, trailing rope gave evidence that it had broken its moorings somewhere upriver and had drifted downstream with the current. It would serve, however. The only real drawback Garion could see was the fact that it was lying in about eight feet of water with its starboard bow staved in.

  ‘What do you think, Belgarath?’ Beldin asked.

  ‘A boat that’s already been sunk once doesn’t inspire much confidence,’ the old man said.

  ‘How would you like to try swimming? There’s not even a raft for ten miles in either direction.’

  Durnik stood squinting down into the cloudy water of the river. ‘It might be all right,’ he said.

  ‘Durnik,’ Silk objected, ‘it’s got a big hole in the front of it.’

  ‘I can fix that—provided it hasn’t been down there long enough to start rotting.’ He pulled off his rust-colored tunic and his boots. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘there’s one way to find out.’ He waded out into the river, sank beneath the surface, and swam down to the wreck. He went hand over hand down one side, stopping every few feet to dig at the wood with his knife. After what seemed an eternity, he came up for air.

  ‘Well?’ Belgarath called to him.

  ‘That side seems all right,’ Durnik replied. ‘Let me check the other.’ He dove down again through the greenish water and went up along the other side. He came up briefly, then went back down to look over the interior of the barge. Then he inspected the gaping hole in the bow. He was breathing hard when he came back up. ‘It’s sound,’ he reported as he came dripping out of the river, ‘and whatever it ran into didn’t damage anything major. I think I can fix it well enough to get us across the river. We’ll have to unload it first, though.’

  ‘Oh?’ Silk’s nose twitched with curiosity. ‘What kind of cargo was it carrying?’

  ‘Beans,’ Durnik replied, ‘bags of them. Most of the bags burst when the beans swelled up, though.’

  Silk groaned.

  ‘Maybe they belonged to someone else, Kheldar,’ Velvet said consolingly.

  ‘Are you trying to be funny?’

  ‘I’ll help you, Durnik,’ Garion offered, starting to pull off his plain tunic.

  ‘Ah . . .’ Durnik hesitated. ‘Thanks all the same, Garion, but I’ve seen you swim. You’d better stay on the bank. Toth and I can manage.’

  ‘How do you plan to get it out of the water?’ Sadi asked.

  ‘We have all these horses.’ Durnik shrugged. ‘Once we swing it around, they should be able to pull it up on the bank.’

  ‘Why swing it around?’

  ‘Because the hole’s in the bow. We want the water to drain out as we pull it up onto the beach. A whole herd of horses couldn’t move it if we left it full of water.’

  ‘Oh. I guess I didn’t think of that.’

  Toth laid aside his staff, pulled off the blanket he wore across one shoulder, and waded out into the river.

  Eriond started to remove his tunic.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going, young man?’ Polgara asked him.

  ‘I’m going to help unload the boat, Polgara,’ he replied earnestly. ‘I swim very well. I’ve had lots of practice, remember?’ Then he, too, waded out into the water.

  ‘I’m not sure I caught the significance of that,’ Velvet admitted.

  Polgara sighed ruefully. ‘When he was a little boy, he lived with Durnik and me in the Vale. There was a river nearby, and he used to fall into it regularly.’

  ‘Oh. That explains it, I guess.’

  ‘All right,’ Belgarath said crisply. ‘They’re going to need lumber to patch that hole. We passed a shed about a half mile up stream. Let’s go back and tear it apart.’

  It was well after sundown by the time Durnik got the foundered barge up onto the beach. For once, nature co-operated, and there was no hailstorm that evening. They built a fire on the beach to provide light, and the smith, Toth, and Eriond got down to work.

  Silk walked mournfully around the barge. ‘It’s mine, all right,’ he sighed.

  ‘You keep well-equipped barges, Silk,’ Durnik said, carefully measuring a board. ‘This one had everything I need right in the bow—nails, a barrel of tar, and even a fairly good saw. We’ll have it afloat before morning.’

  ‘I’m glad you approve,’ Silk said sourly. He made a wry face. ‘This is unnatural,’ he complained.

  ‘What’s the problem, Kheldar?’ Velvet asked him.

  ‘Usually, when I want a boat, I steal one. Using one of my own seems immoral somehow.’

  She laughed ga
ily and patted his cheek. ‘Poor, poor dear,’ she said. ‘It must be terrible to be burdened with so delicate a conscience.’

  ‘All right, ladies,’ Polgara said then, ‘let’s see to supper.’

  While Durnik, Toth, and Eriond worked on the patch and Polgara, Ce’Nedra, and Velvet prepared supper, Garion and the others fetched more lumber and began to fashion crude oars. They continued to work, even as they ate. Somehow, everything seemed right to Garion. All his friends were around him and they were all busy. Although the repairing of the boat was of vital importance, the simple chores involved seemed almost mundane, and Garion could lose himself in the tasks at hand with no sense of the urgency which had attended the things he had been forced to do lately. It was almost soothing.

  After the ladies had finished with supper, they carried canvas buckets of water from the river and heated the water with hot rocks. Then they retired behind a screen of tenting to bathe.

  About midnight, Garion went down to the water’s edge to dip his sore hands into the river. Ce’Nedra sat not far away, idly letting handfuls of sand trickle out from between her fingers. ‘Why don’t you see if you can get some sleep, Ce’Nedra?’ Garion asked her.

  ‘I can stay awake as long as you can,’ she replied.

  ‘I’m sure you can, but why?’

  ‘Don’t patronize me, Garion. I’m not a child.’

  ‘You know,’ he said slyly, ‘I’ve noticed that myself on any number of occasions.’

  ‘Garion!’ she gasped, and then she suddenly blushed.

  He laughed, rose to his feet, and went over and kissed her soundly. ‘Go get some sleep, dear,’ he told her.

  ‘What are you doing over there?’ she asked, looking up the beach to where the others still worked.

  ‘We’re making oars. If we just push that barge out into the river, the current’s going to take us all the way down into Gandahar.’

  ‘Oh. All right then. Have a pleasant night.’ She stretched and yawned. ‘Why don’t you get me a blanket before you go back to building oars?’