Rivan Codex Series

by Eddings, David

  "What's an Etdrak 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, Al-groths range down into Arendia, and the Dryads live in southern Tblnedra. 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 anymore."

  "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 drew 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 die 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

  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 Dumik and Torn 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 hi 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 that 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 togotoKell."

  "I'd be terribly disappointed if it was that simple," Velvet said, tying 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 took out over the vast wilderness that lay beyond the pass.

  loth 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 dial 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 '11 admit that your mountain is bigger flan I am. I just don't want to know how much bigger."

  Tbth was gesturing to Durnik again.

  "He says that Kell lies in the shadow of that mountain," the unith 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 conver
ting 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 for this, Pol, I found a group of sheephenders below the snow line."

  "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 aircomes 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 men." 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?"

  "I doubt it, and I certainly hope not." He looked at Belgarath. "I think you'd better go down a mile or so and make camp."

  "It's early yet."

  "No. Actually it's late. That afternoon sun is quite warm-even up here. All this snow's starting to get soft. I’ve seen three avalanches already. If you make a wrong guess up here, you might get down a lot quicker than you want to."

  "Interesting point there. We'll get down out of this pass and set up for the night.”

  "I'll go on ahead." Beldin crouched and spread his arms. "Are you sure you don't want to come along, Pol?"

  "Don't be silly."

  He left a ghostly chuckle behind him as he soared away.

  They set up for the night on a ridge line. Although it exposed them to the constant wind, it was free from the danger of avalanche. Garion slept poorly that night. The wind that raked the exposed ridge set the taut canvas of the tent he shared with Ce'Nedra to thrumming, and the noise intruded itself upon him as he tried again and again to drift off. He shifted restlessly.

  "Can't you sleep either?" Ce'Nedra said in the chill darkness.

  "It's the wind," he replied.

  "Try not to think about it."

  "I don't have to think about it. It's like trying to sleep inside a big drum."

  "You were very brave this morning, Garion. I was terrified when I heard about that monster.”

  "We've dealt with monsters before. After a while, you get used to it." • "My, aren't we getting blase"?"

  "It's an occupational trait. All of us mighty heroes have it. ; Fighting a monster or two before breakfast helps to sharpen the appetite."

  “You’ve changed, Garion."

  "Not really."

  "Yes, you have. When I first met you, you'd never have said anything like that."

  "When you first met me, I took everything very seriously." "Don't you take what we're doing seriously?" She said it almost accusingly.

  “Of course I do. It's the little incidental things along the way I sort of shrug off. There's not much point in worrying about something after it's already over, is there?"

  "Well, as long as neither of us can sleep anyway—" And she drew him to her and kissed him rather seriously.

  The temperature plunged that night, and when they arose, the snow, which had been dangerously soft the previous afternoon, had frozen, and they were able to proceed with little danger of avalanche. Because this side of the summit had taken the full force of the wind during the blizzard, the caravan track had little snow on it, and they made good time going down. By midafter-noon they passed the last of the snow and rode down into a world of spring. The meadows were steep and lush and speckled with wildflowers bending in the mountain breeze. Brooks, which came directly out of the faces of glaciers, purled and danced over gleaming stones, and soft-eyed deer watched in gentle astonishment as Garion and the others rode by.

  A few miles below the snow line, they began to see herds of sheep grazing with witless concentration, consuming grass and wildflowers with indiscriminate appetite. The shepherds who watched them all wore simple white smocks, and they sat on hillocks or rocks in dreamy contemplation while their dogs did all the work.

  The she-wolf trotted sedately beside Chretienne. Her ears twitched occasionally, however, and she watched the sheep, her tawny eyes intent.

  "One advises against it, little sister," Garion said to her in the language of wolves.

  "One was not really considering it," she replied. "One has encountered these beasts before—and the man-things and dog-things that guard them. It is not difficult to take one of them, but the dog-things grow excited when one does, and their barking disturbs one's meal.” Her tongue lolled out in a wolfish sort of grin. "One could make the beasts run, however. All things should know to whom the forest belongs."

  "The pack-leader would disapprove, one is afraid." "Ah," she agreed. "Perhaps the pack-leader takes himself too seriously. One has observed that quality in him."

  "What did she say?" Zakath asked curiously.

  "She was thinking about chasing the sheep," Garion replied, "not necessarily to kill any of them but just to make them run. I mink it amuses her."

  "Amuses? That's an odd thing to say about a wolf."

  "Not really. Wolves play a great deal, and they have a very refined sense of humor."

  Zakath's face grew thoughtful. "You know something, Gar-ion?" he said. "Man thinks he owns the world, but we share it with all sorts of creatures who are indifferent to our overlord-ship. They have their own societies, and I suppose even their own cultures. They don't even pay any attention to us, do they?"

  "Only when we inconvenience them."

  "That's a crushing blow to the ego of an emperor." Zakath smiled wryly. "We're the two most powerful men on earth, and wolves look upon us as no more than a minor inconvenience."

  "It teaches us humility," Garion agreed. "Humility is good for the soul."

  "Perhaps."

  It was evening when they reached the shepherds' encampment. Since a sheep camp is a more or less permanent thing, h is usually more well organized than the hasty encampments of travelers. The tents were larger, for one thing, and they were stretched over pole frames. The tents lined either side of a street made of logs laid tightly side by side. The corrals for the shepherds' horses were at the lower end of the street, and a log dam had backed up a mountain brook to form a sparkling little pond that provided water for the sheep and horses. The shadows of evening were settling over the little valley where the camp lay, and blue columns of smoke rose straight up from the cookfires into the calm and windless air.

  A tall, lean fellow with a deeply tanned face, snowy white hair, and the simple white smock that seemed to be the common garb of these shepherds came out of one of the tents as Garion and Zakath reined in just outside the camp. "We have been advised of your coming," he said. His voice was very deep and quiet. "Will you share our evening meal with us?" Garion looked at him closely, noting his resemblance to Yard, the man whom they had met on the Isle of Verkat, half a world away. There could be no question now that the Dais and the slave race in Cthol Murgos were related.

  "We would be honored,” Zakath responded to the invitation. "We do not wish to impose, however."

  "It is no imposition. I am Burk. I will have some of my men care for your mounts."

  The others rode up and stopped.

  "Welcome all," Burk greeted them. "Will you step down? The evening meal is almost ready, and we have set aside a tent for your use." He looked gravely at the she-wolf and inclined his head to her. It was evident that her presence did not alarm him.

  "Your courtesy is most becoming," Polgara said, dismounting, "and your hospitality is quite unexpected this far from civilization."

  "Man carries his civilization with him, Lady," Burk replied.<
br />
  "We have an injured man with us," Sadi told him, "a poor traveler we came across on our way over the mountain- We gave him what aid we could, but our business is pressing, and I'm afraid our pace is aggravating his injuries."

  "You may leave him with us, and we will care for him." Burk looked critically at the drugged priest slumped in his saddle. "AGrolim," denoted. "Is your destination perhaps Kell?"

  "We have to stop there," Belgarath said cautiously.

  "This Grolim would not be able to go with you then."

  "We've heard about that," Silk said, swinging down from his horse. “Do they really go blind when they try to go to Kell? "

  "In a manner of speaking, yes. We have such a one here in our camp with us now. We found him wandering in the forest when we were bringing the sheep up to summer pasture."

  Belgarath's eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you suppose I might be able to talk with him?" he asked. "I've made a study of such things, and I'm always eager to get additional information."

  "Of course," Burk agreed. "He's in the last tent on the right."

  "Garion, Pot, come along," die old man said tersely and started along the log street. Oddly, the she-wolf accompanied them.

  "Why the sudden curiosity, father?" Polgara asked when they were out of earshot.

  "I want to find out just how effective this curse the Dais have laid around Kell really is. If it's something that can be overcome, we might run into Zandramas when we get there after all."

  They found the Grolim sitting on the floor in his tent. The harsh angularity of his face had softened, and his sightless eyes had lost the burning fanaticism common to all Grolims. His face instead was filled with a kind of wonder.

  "How is it with you, friend?" Belgarath asked him gently.

  "I am content," the Grolim replied. The word seemed peculiar coming from the mouth of a priest of Torak.

  "Why is it that you tried to approach Kell? Didn't you know about the curse?"

  "It is not a curse. It is a blessing."

  "A blessing?"

  "I was ordered by the Sorceress Zandramas to try to reach the holy city of the Dais," the Grolim continued. "She told me mat I would be exalted should I be successful." He smiled gently. "It was in her mind, I think, to test the strength of the enchantment to determine if it might be safe for her to attempt the journey."