David and Leigh Eddings – Belgarath the Sorcerer

stories about my brother’s dice.”

“You don’t think he’d cheat you, do you? You are his brother.”

“If there was money involved, Dras would cheat our own mother.”

You see what I mean about Drasnians?

We returned to our den, and Riva cooked an extensive breakfast.

Cooking is a chore that nobody really likes–except for my daughter, of

course–so it usually fell to the youngest. Oddly, Riva wasn’t a bad

cook.

You didn’t know that, did you, Pol?

“Will you recognize this place when you see it?” Dras rumbled around a

mouthful of bacon.

“It shouldn’t be too hard,” I replied blandly, “since it’s the only

city north of the river.”

“Oh,” he said.

“I didn’t know that.”

“It’ll sort of stand out,” I continued.

“It’s got a perpetual cloud bank over it.”

He frowned.

“What causes that?”

“Torak, from what Beldin says.”

“Why would he do that?”

I shrugged.

“Maybe he hates the sun.” I didn’t want to get too exotic in my

explanation. Little things confused Dras. A big one might have

unraveled his whole brain.

I apologize to the entire Drasnian nation for that last remark. Dras

was brave and strong and absolutely loyal, but sometimes he was just a

little slow of thought. His descendants have more than overcome that.

If anyone doesn’t believe that, I invite him to try having business

dealings with Prince Kheldar.

“All right then,” I told them after we’d eaten.

“Torak’s mind is very rigid.

Once he gets hold of an idea, he won’t let go of it. He almost

certainly knows about that bridge–particularly since the Karands use

it to go over to trade with the Morindim, and the Karands are

Torak-worshipers now.

They probably use the bridge only in the summer when there isn’t any

ice, though. I don’t think Torak would even take the ice into

account.”

“Where are we going with this?” Cherek asked.

“I’m sure Torak’s expecting us, but he’s expecting us to come at him

from the north–from the direction of the bridge. If he’s put people

out there to stop us, that’s where they’ll be.”

Riva laughed delightedly.

“But we won’t be coming from the north, will we? We’ll be coming from

the west instead.”

“Good point,” Algar murmured with an absolutely straight face. He

concealed it very well, but Algar was much brighter than his

brothers–or his father, for that matter. Maybe that’s why he didn’t

waste his breath trying to talk to them.

“I can do certain things to keep the Angaraks facing north,” I

continued.

“Now that the blizzard’s blown off, I’ll decorate the snow-banks up

there near your bridge with footprints and perfume the bushes with our

scent. That should throw the Chandim off.”

“Chandim?” Dras gave me that blank stare.

“The Hounds of Torak. They’ll be trying to sniff us out. I’ll give

them enough clues to make them do their sniffing north of here. If

we’re halfway careful, we should be able to reach Cthol Mishrak without

being noticed.”

“You knew this all along, didn’t you, Belgarath?” Riva said.

“That’s why you made us cross the ice where we did instead of going up

to the bridge.”

I shrugged.

“Naturally,” I replied modestly. It was a bare-faced lie, of course;

I’d only just put it all together myself. But a reputation for

infallible cleverness doesn’t hurt when you’re dealing with Alorns The

time might come very soon when I’d be making decisions based on

hunches, and I wouldn’t have time for arguments.

It was dark again by the time we crawled out of our den and struck out

across the snowy dunes toward the frozen bog to the east. We soon

discovered that not all of the Chandim had gone north to lay in wait

for us. We came across tracks as large as horses’ hooves in the fresh

snow from time to time, and we could hear them baying off in the swamp

now and again.

I’ll make a confession here. Despite my strong reservations about it,

for once I did tamper with the weather–just a bit. I created a small

portable fog bank for us to hide in and a very docile little snow-cloud

that followed us like a puppy, happily burying our tracks in new snow.

It doesn’t really take much to make a cloud happy. I kept both the fog

and the cloud tightly controlled, though, so their effects didn’t alter

any major weather patterns. Between the two of them, they kept the

Chandim from finding us with their eyes, and the new-fallen snow

muffled the sound of our passage. Then I summoned a cooperative family

of civet cats to trail along behind us. Civet cats are nice little

creatures related to skunks, except that they have spots instead of

stripes. Their means of dealing with creatures unlucky enough to

offend them are the same, though–as one of Torak’s Hounds discovered

when he got too close. I don’t imagine he was very popular in his pack

for the next several weeks.

We crept unobserved through that frozen swamp for several days, hiding

in thickets during the brief daylight hours and traveling during the

long arctic nights.

Then one morning our fog bank turned opalescent. I let it dissipate so

that we could take a look, but it really wasn’t necessary. I knew what

was lighting up the fog. The sun had finally cleared the horizon.

Winter was wearing on, and it was time for us to hurry. As the fog

thinned, we saw that we were nearing the eastern edge of the swamp. A

low range of hills rose a few miles ahead, and just beyond those hills

was an inky black cloud bank.

“That’s it,” I told Cherek and his boys, speaking very quietly.

“That’s what?” Dras asked me.

“Cthol Mishrak. I told you about the clouds, remember?”

“Oh, yes. I guess I’d forgotten.”

“Let’s take cover and wait for dark. We have to start being very

careful now.”

We burrowed our way into a thicket growing out of a low hummock, and I

passed my snow-cloud over our tracks once or twice and then sent it

home with my thanks. As an afterthought, I also released the civet

cats.

“You have a plan?” Riva asked me.

“I’m working on it,” I replied shortly. Actually, I didn’t have a

plan. I hadn’t really thought we’d live long enough to get this far. I

decided that it might be a good time to have a chat with my friend in

the attic.

“Are you still there?” I asked tentatively.

“No, I’m off somewhere chasing moonbeams. Where else would I be,

Belgarath?”

“Silly question, I guess. Are you permitted to give me a description

of the city?”

“No, but you’ve already got one. Beldin told you everything you need

to know. You know that Torak’s in the iron tower and that the Orb’s

there with him.”

“Should I get ready for anything? I mean, is there going to be another

one of those meetings here in Cthol Mishrak? The notion of getting

into a wrestling match with Torak doesn’t appeal to me very much.”

“No. That was all settled when you met Zedar.”

“We actually won one?”

“We win about half of them. Don’t get overconfident, though. Pure

chance could trip you up. You know what to do when you get there,

don’t you?”

And suddenly I did know. Don’t ask me how, I just did.

“Maybe I’d better scout on ahead,” I suggested.

“Absolutely not. Don’t give yourself away by wandering around

aimlessly.

Take the Alorns, do what you came to do, and get out.”

“Are we on schedule?”

“Yes–if you get it done tonight. After tonight, you’re in trouble.

Don’t try to talk to me again–not until you’re clear of the city. I

won’t be permitted to answer you. Good luck.” Then he was gone

again.

The light lasted for about three hours–which only seemed like about

three years to me. When the lingering twilight finally faded, I was

very jumpy.

“Let’s go,” I told the Alorns.

“If we come across any Angaraks, put them down quickly, and don’t make

any more noise than you absolutely have to.”

“What’s the plan?” Cherek asked me.

“I’m going to make it up as we go along,” I replied. Why should I be

the only one with bad nerves?

He swallowed hard.

“Lead the way,” he told me. Say what you like about Alorns–and I

usually do–but no one can fault their bravery.

We crept out of the thicket and waded through the snow until we reached

the edge of the swamp. I wasn’t particularly worried about tracks,

since the Grolims had been patrolling this part of the swamp regularly,

and their tracks were everywhere, mingled with the occasional tracks of

one of the Hounds. A few more wouldn’t mean anything.

Our luck was holding. A blizzard had come in out of the west, and the

screaming wind had scoured all the snow off the hillsides facing the

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