The Malloreon: Book 04 - Sorceress of Darshiva

by David Eddings

  ‘But you just said—’

  ‘It’s a puppy, Ce’Nedra. The female is a she-wolf.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s a wolf. She got her paw caught in a trap. She can’t run, so she can’t hunt. She’ll be coming with us—at least until her paw heals.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts. She’s coming with us. Durnik, can you work out some way we can carry her without having the horses go wild?’

  ‘I’ll think of something,’ the smith replied.

  ‘Under the circumstances, don’t you think this altruism might be misplaced?’ Sadi asked mildly.

  ‘No,’ Garion said, tying the top of the sack shut, ‘I don’t. There’s a hill in the middle of those woods. Stay on this side of it until we can persuade her that we don’t mean to harm her. There’s water there, but it’s too close to her den. We’ll have to wait a bit before we can water the horses.’

  ‘What’s got you so angry?’ Silk asked him.

  ‘If I had the time, I’d look up the man who set that trap and break his leg—in several places. I’ve got to go back now. She and the puppy are very hungry.’ He slung the sack over his shoulder and stalked off. His anger was, he knew, irrational, and there had not really been any excuse for being surly with Ce’Nedra and the others, but he could not have helped himself. The wolf’s calm acceptance of death and her mourning for her lost mate had torn at his heart, and anger kept the tears out of his eyes.

  The sack was awkward to carry, once he had changed form, and it kept throwing him off balance, but he stumbled on with his head high to keep his burden from dragging on the ground.

  Polgara and Belgarath were talking with the she-wolf when he reached the den again. The injured wolf had a skeptical expression in her eyes as she listened.

  ‘She can’t accept it,’ Polgara said.

  ‘Does she think you’re lying?’ Garion asked, dropping the sack.

  ‘Wolves don’t understand the meaning of that word. She thinks we’re mistaken. We’re going to have to show her. She met you first, so she might trust you a little more. Change back. You’ll need your hands to untie the knot in that sack, anyway.’

  ‘All right.’ He drew his own image in his imagination and changed.

  ‘How remarkable,’ the she-wolf said in amazement. Belgarath looked at her sharply. ‘Why did you say that?’ he asked her.

  ‘Did you not find it so?’

  ‘I am accustomed to it. Why did you choose those particular words?’

  ‘They came to me. I am no pack-leader, and I have no need to choose my words with care in order to protect my dignity.’

  Garion had opened the sack and he laid meat and cheese on the ground in front of her. She began to eat ravenously. He knelt beside the starving pup and began to feed him, being careful to keep his fingers away from the needle-sharp teeth.

  ‘A little bit at a time,’ Polgara cautioned. ‘Don’t make him sick.’

  When the she-wolf had eaten her fill, she limped to the spring which came bubbling out from between two rocks and drank. Garion picked up the puppy and carried him to the spring so that he could also drink.

  ‘You are not like the other man-things,’ the she-wolf observed.

  ‘No,’ he agreed. ‘Not entirely.’

  ‘Are you mated?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘To a wolf or to one of the she’s of the man-things?’

  ‘To one of the she’s of this kind.’ He tapped his own chest.

  ‘Ah. And does she hunt with you?’

  ‘Our she’s do not usually hunt.’

  ‘What useless things they must be.’ The wolf sniffed disdainfully.

  ‘Not altogether.’

  ‘Durnik and the others are coming,’ Polgara said. Then she looked at the she-wolf. ‘The others of our pack are coming to this place, little sister,’ she said. ‘They are the man-things of which I spoke. Do not be afraid of them, for they are like this one.’ She pointed her nose at Garion. ‘Our leader here and I will now also change our forms. The presence of wolves alarms the beasts we have with us, and they must drink from your water. If it please you, will you go with this one who fed you, so that our beasts may drink?’

  ‘It shall be as you say,’ the she-wolf replied.

  Garion led the limping wolf away from the spring, carrying the now drowsy puppy in his arms. The puppy raised his muzzle, licked Garion’s face once, and then fell asleep.

  Durnik and Toth set up their camp near the spring, while Eriond and Silk watered the horses and then took them back to picket them in the woods.

  After a while, Garion led the now wary she-wolf toward the fire. ‘It is time for you to meet the other members of our pack,’ he told her, ‘for they are now your pack-mates as well.’

  ‘This is not a natural thing,’ she said nervously as she limped along at his side.

  ‘They will not harm you,’ he assured her. Then he spoke to the others. ‘Please stand very still,’ he told them. ‘She’ll want to smell each of you so that she can recognize you later. Don’t try to touch her and, when you speak, do it quietly. She’s very nervous right now.’ He led the wolf around the fire, allowing her to sniff at each of his companions.

  ‘What’s her name?’ Ce’Nedra asked as the she-wolf sniffed at her little hand.

  ‘Wolves don’t need names.’

  ‘We have to call her something, Garion. May I hold the puppy?’

  ‘I think she’d rather you didn’t just yet. Let her get used to you first.’

  ‘This one is your mate,’ the she-wolf said. ‘I can smell your scent on her.’

  ‘Yes,’ Garion agreed.

  ‘She’s very small. I see now why she can’t hunt. Is she fully grown?’

  ‘Yes, she is.’

  ‘Has she had her first litter yet?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How many puppies?’

  ‘One.’

  ‘One only?’ The wolf sniffed. ‘I have had as many as six. You should have chosen a larger mate. I’m sure she was the runt of her litter.’

  ‘What’s she saying?’ Ce’Nedra asked.

  ‘It wouldn’t translate,’ Garion lied.

  After the wolf had grown a little more at ease, Polgara boiled a number of herbs in a small pot, mixed them with a paste of soap and sugar, and applied the poultice to the wolf’s injured paw. Then she wrapped the paw in a clean white cloth. ‘Try not to lick this or chew it off, little sister,’ she instructed. ‘It will not taste good and it needs to stay where it is to heal your hurt.’

  ‘One is grateful,’ the wolf replied. She looked into the dancing flames of the fire. ‘That is a comforting thing, is it not?’ she observed.

  ‘We find it so,’ Polgara said.

  ‘You man-things are very clever with your forepaws.’

  ‘They’re useful,’ Polgara agreed. She took the sleeping puppy from Garion’s arms and nestled him beside his mother.

  ‘I will sleep now,’ the wolf decided. She laid her muzzle protectively on her puppy’s flank and closed her eyes.

  Durnik motioned to Garion and led him aside. ‘I think I’ve come up with a way to bring her along without frightening the horses,’ he said. ‘I can make a sort of sled for her to ride in. I’ll put a long enough towrope on it to keep her smell away from them, and I’ll cover her and her puppy with an old horse blanket. She might make them a little jumpy at first, but they’ll get used to her.’ The smith looked gravely at his friend. ‘Why are we doing this, Garion?’ he asked.

  ‘I couldn’t bear the thought of just leaving the two of them here. They’d have both died before the week was out.’

  ‘You’re a good man,’ Durnik said simply, putting his hand on Garion’s shoulder. ‘You’re decent as well as brave.’

  ‘I’m a Sendar.’ Garion shrugged. ‘We’re all like that.’

  ‘But you’re not actually a Sendar, you know.’

  ‘That’s how I was raised, and that’s all that matters,
isn’t it?’

  The sled Durnik contrived for the wolf and her puppy the next morning had wide-set runners and was built low to the ground so there was little chance of its overturning. ‘It might be better if it had wheels,’ he admitted, ‘but I don’t have any wheels to work with, and it would take too long to make some.’

  ‘I’ll ransack the next village we come to,’ Silk told him. ‘Maybe I can find a cart of some kind.’

  They rode out, slowly at first until they saw that the sled ran smoothly on the damp earth of the road, and then they moved on at their usual canter.

  Silk was checking a map as he rode along. ‘There’s a fair-sized town just up ahead,’ he told Belgarath. ‘I think we could use some up-to-date information about now, don’t you?’

  ‘Why is it that you absolutely have to go into every town we pass?’ Belgarath asked him.

  ‘I’m a city dweller, Belgarath,’ the little man replied in an offhand manner. ‘I get edgy if I can’t walk on cobblestones every so often. Besides, we need supplies. Garion’s wolf eats a great deal. Why don’t the rest of you go out in a wide circle around the place, and we’ll catch up with you on the other side?’

  ‘We?’ Garion asked him.

  ‘You’re coming along, aren’t you?’

  Garion sighed. ‘I guess so,’ he said. ‘You always seem to get into trouble if we let you go off alone.’

  ‘Trouble?’ Silk said innocently. ‘Me?’

  Zakath rubbed at his stubbled chin. ‘I’ll come, too,’ he said. ‘I don’t look that much like the coins any more.’ He glared briefly at Belgarath. ‘How can you stand this?’ he demanded, scratching vigorously at his face. ‘The itching is about to drive me wild.’

  ‘You get used to it,’ Belgarath told him. ‘I wouldn’t feel right if my face didn’t itch.’

  The place appeared to be a market town that had at some time in the past been fortified. It crouched atop a hill and it was surrounded by a thick stone wall with watchtowers at each corner. The pervading overcast that seemed to cover all of Darshiva made the town look gray and dismal. The gate was unguarded, and Silk, Garion, and Zakath clattered on through into what appeared to be a deserted street.

  ‘Let’s see if we can find somebody,’ Silk said. ‘If not, we can at least ransack a few shops for the food we’ll need.’

  ‘Don’t you ever pay for anything, Kheldar?’ Zakath asked with some asperity.

  ‘Not if I don’t have to. No honest merchant ever passes up an opportunity to steal. Let’s push on, shall we?’

  ‘This is a very corrupt little man; do you know that?’ Zakath said to Garion.

  ‘We’ve noticed that from time to time.’

  They rounded a corner and saw a group of men in canvas smocks loading a wagon under the direction of a sweating fat man.

  Silk reined in his horse. ‘Where are all the people, friend?’ he called to the fat man.

  ‘Gone. Fled to either Gandahar or Dalasia.’

  ‘Fled? What for?’

  ‘Where have you been, man? Urvon’s coming.’

  ‘Really? I hadn’t heard that.’

  ‘Everybody in Darshiva knows it.’

  ‘Zandramas will stop him,’ Silk said confidently.

  ‘Zandramas isn’t here.’ The fat man suddenly bawled at one of his workers. ‘Be careful with that box!’ he shouted. ‘The things in there are breakable!’

  Silk led the others closer. ‘Where did she go? Zandramas, I mean?’

  ‘Who knows? Who cares? There’s been nothing but trouble in Darshiva ever since she gained control of the country.’ The fat man mopped at his face with a soiled kerchief.

  ‘You’d better not let the Grolims hear you talking like that.’

  ‘Grolims,’ the fat man snorted. ‘They were the first ones to run. Urvon’s army uses Darshivan Grolims for firewood.’

  ‘Why would Zandramas leave when her country’s being invaded?’

  ‘Who knows why she does anything?’ The fat fellow looked around nervously, then spoke in a quiet voice. ‘Just between you and me, friend, I think she’s mad. She held some kind of ceremony at Hemil. She stuck a crown on the head of some archduke from Melcena and said that he’s the Emperor of Mallorea. He’ll be a head shorter when Kal Zakath catches up with him, I’ll wager.’

  ‘I’d like to put some money on the same proposition,’ Zakath agreed quietly.

  ‘Then she gave a speech in the temple at Hemil,’ the fat man went on. ‘She said that the day is at hand.’ He sneered. ‘Grolims of every stripe have been saying that the day is at hand for as long as I can remember. Every one of them seems to be talking about a different day, though. Anyway, she came through here a few days ago and told us all that she was going to the place where the New God of Angarak will be chosen. She held up her hand and said, “And this is a sign to you that I shall prevail.” It gave me quite a turn at first, let me tell you. There were swirling lights under her skin. I thought for a while that there was really something significant about it, but my friend, the apothecary who keeps the shop next to mine, he told me that she’s a sorceress and she can make people see anything she wants them to see. That explains it, I guess.’

  ‘Did she say anything else?’ Silk asked him intently.

  ‘Only that this New God of hers will appear before the summer is gone.’

  ‘Let’s hope she’s right,’ Silk said. ‘That might put an end to all this turmoil.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ the fat man said moodily. ‘I think we’re in for a long siege of trouble.’

  ‘Was she alone?’ Garion asked him.

  ‘No. She had her bogus emperor with her and that white-eyed Grolim from the temple at Hemil—the one who follows her around like a tame ape.’

  ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘Only a little boy. I don’t know where she picked him up. Just before she left, she told us that the army of Urvon the Disciple was coming and she ordered the whole populace to go out and block his path. Then she left, going that way.’ He pointed off toward the west. ‘Well, my friends and I, we all sort of looked at each other for a while, and then everybody grabbed up whatever he could carry and bolted. We’re not stupid enough to throw ourselves in the path of an advancing army, no matter who orders us to.’

  ‘How is it that you stayed behind?’ Silk asked him curiously.

  ‘This is my shop,’ the fat man replied in a plaintive tone. ‘I’ve worked all my life to build it up. I wasn’t going to run off and let the riffraff from the gutters loot it. Now they’re all gone, so it’s safe for me to make a run for it with whatever I can salvage. A lot of what I’ll have to leave behind won’t keep anyway, so I’m not losing very much.’

  ‘Oh,’ Silk said, his pointed nose twitching with interest. ‘What is it you deal in, friend?’

  ‘General merchandise.’ The fat man looked critically at his workmen. ‘Stack those boxes closer together!’ he shouted. ‘There’s still a lot left to go in that wagon!’

  ‘What sort of general merchandise?’ Silk pressed.

  ‘Household goods, tools, bolts of cloth, foodstuffs—that sort of thing.’

  ‘Well, now,’ Silk said, his nose twitching even more violently. ‘Maybe you and I can do some business. My friends and I have a long way to go, and we’re running a little short of supplies. You mentioned foodstuffs. What sort of foodstuffs?’

  The merchant’s eyes narrowed. ‘Bread, cheese, butter, dried fruit, hams. I’ve even got a fresh side of beef. I warn you, though, those things are going to cost you very dearly. Food’s scarce in this part of Darshiva.’

  ‘Oh,’ Silk said blandly, ‘I don’t think they’ll cost all that much—unless you plan to wait here to greet Urvon when he arrives.’

  The merchant stared at him in consternation.

  ‘You see, my friend,’ Silk continued, ‘you have to leave—and very soon, I think. That wagon of yours won’t carry everything you’ve got in your shop, and your team isn’t going to be able to move very fast—n
ot the way you’re loading the wagon. My friends and I have fast horses, though, so we can afford to wait a little longer. After you leave, we might just browse through your shop for the things we need.’

  The merchant’s face went suddenly very pale. ‘That’s robbery,’ he gasped.

  ‘Why, yes,’ Silk admitted blandly, ‘I believe some people do call it that.’ He paused for a moment to allow the merchant time to understand the situation fully. The fat man’s face grew anguished. Then Silk sighed. ‘Unfortunately, I’m cursed with a delicate conscience. I can’t bear the thought of cheating an honest man—unless I absolutely have to.’ He lifted a pouch from his belt, opened it, and peered inside. ‘I seem to have eight or ten silver half-crowns in here,’ he said. ‘What would you say to five of them for everything my friends and I can carry?’

  ‘That’s outrageous!’ the merchant spluttered.

  With some show of regret, Silk closed the pouch and tucked it back under his belt. ‘I guess we’ll just have to wait, then. Do you think you and your men will be much longer?’

  ‘You’re robbing me!’ the merchant wailed.

  ‘No, not really. The way I see it, what we have here is a buyer’s market. That’s my offer, friend—five silver half-crowns. Take it or leave it. We’ll wait over there across the street while you decide.’ He turned his horse and led Garion and Zakath toward a large house on the other side of the street.

  Zakath was trying very hard to stifle a laugh as they dismounted.

  ‘We’re not quite done yet,’ Silk muttered. ‘It needs just one more little touch.’ He went up to the locked door of the house, reached into his boot, and took out a long, pointed needle. He probed at the lock for a moment, and it snapped open with a solid-sounding click. ‘We’ll need a table and three chairs,’ he told them. ‘Bring them out and set them up in front of the house. I’ll rummage around and find the other things we’ll need.’ He went into the house.

  Garion and Zakath went into the kitchen and carried out a fair-sized table. Then they went back for chairs.

  ‘What’s he up to?’ Zakath asked with a look of bafflement on his face.

  ‘He’s playing,’ Garion said with a certain disgust. ‘He does that from time to time during his business dealings.’