“All right. Where’s Dal Finda, then?”
“Upriver about forty leagues.”
“Thanks for the help, friend. Do you happen to have a map of this part of Mallorea?”
“I believe I could find one for you, yes.”
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SEERESS OP KELL
“I’d appreciate it. We’re not familiar with this part of the
world.”
“So we go upriver?” Hettar said when Silk’s factor was out
of the room looking for the map.
“If it’s the only place where we can find out where Garion and the others are, we’ll have to,” Barak replied.
The current in the Finda River was sluggish, and the oarsmen made good time as they rowed upstream. They reached the river town late the following day and went immediately to Silk’s offices there.
The factor here was almost the reverse of the man in Dal Zerba. He was bulky more than fat and he had huge meaty hands and a florid face. He was not particularly cooperative. “How do I know you’re the prince’s friends?” he demanded suspiciously. “I’m not going to reveal his location to complete
strangers.”
“Are you trying to be difficult?” Barak asked.
The factor looked at the big red-bearded man and swallowed hard. “No, but sometimes the prince wants his whereabouts kept secret.”
“Probably when he’s planning to steal something,” Hettar
added.
“Steal?” the factor objected in a shocked voice. “The prince
is a respectable businessman.”
“He’s also a liar, a cheat, a thief, and a spy,” Hettar told him. “Now, where is he? We’d heard that he’d been in Melcene awhile back. Where did he go from there?”
“Can you describe him?” the factor countered.
“Short,” Hettar replied, “sort of thin. He’s got a face like a rat and a long, pointed nose. He’s got a clever mouth and he thinks he’s funny.”
“That’s a fair description of Prince Kheldar,” the factor conceded.
“We have heard that our friend standeth in a certain amount of danger,” Mandorallen said. “We have sailed many leagues to offer our assistance.”
“I was sort of wondering why most of you were wearing armor. Oh, all right. The last I heard was that he was bound for a place called Kell.”
“Show me,” Barak said, unfolding his map.
“It’s over here,” the factor said.
“Is that river navigable?”
“As far north as Balasa.”
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109
‘ ‘Good. We can sail around the southern end of the continent and go up that river. How far back from the main channel is this Kell place?”
‘ ‘A league or so from the east bank. It’s at the foot of a very big mountain. I’d be careful, though. Kell’s got a very peculiar reputation. The seers live there, and they don’t particularly welcome strangers.”
“We’ll have to chance it,” Barak said. “Thanks for your help, friend. We’ll give Kheldar your regards when we catch up with him.”
They set out downriver the following morning. There was enough of a breeze so that the sails were able to aid the oarsmen, and they made excellent time. It was shortly before noon when they heard a number of cracking detonations coming from somewhere just ahead.
“Methinks we will encounter a storm ere long,” Mandorallen said.
Barak frowned. “The sky’s perfectly clear, Mandorallen,” he disagreed, “and that doesn’t sound exactly right for thunder.” He raised his voice. “Ship oars and lower the sail,” he commanded his sailors, swinging his tiller over sharply so that Seabird coasted to the bank.
Hettar, Relg, and Lelldorin came up from below. “Why are we stopping?” Hettar asked.
“There’s something peculiar going on just up ahead,” Barak replied. “I think we’d better go have a look before we blunder into anything.”
“You want me to get the horses?”
“I don’t think so. It’s not very far, and men on horseback are kind of conspicuous.”
“You’re starting to sound like Silk.”
“WeVe been together for quite a while. Unrak!” he shouted to his son, who had been riding in the bow. “We’re going to go see what that noise is all about. You’re in charge here until we get back.”
“But, father!” the red-haired boy protested.
“That’s an order, Unrak!” Barak thundered.
“Yes, sir.” Unrak sounded slightly sullen.
The Seabird swung slowly around in the current and bumped gently against the brush-covered riverbank. Barak and the others jumped from the rail to the bank and started cautiously inland.
There were more of those strange detonations that did not sound exactly like thunder.
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SEERESS OF KELL
“Whatever it is, it’s coming from just up ahead,” Hettar said quietly.
“Let’s stay out of sight until we find out what’s going on,” Barak said. “We’ve heard that kind of sound before—at Rak Cthol when Belgarath and Ctuchik were fighting.”
“Sorcerers, thinkest thou?” Mandorallen suggested.
“I’m not positive, but I’m beginning to have some strong suspicions in that direction. I think we’d better stay under cover until we can see just who or what is out there.”
They crept to the edge of a clump of scrubby trees and looked out at an open field.
A number of black-robed figures lay smoking on the turf. Others huddled fearfully near the edge of the field.
“Murgos?” Hettar sounded startled.
“Methinks not, my Lord,” Mandorallen said. “If thou wilt look closely, thou wilt see that the hoods of their cloaks are lined in diverse colors. Those colors do indicate rank among the Grolims. Thou wert wise, my Lord of Trellheim, to advise caution.”
“What’s making them smoke like that?” Lelldorin whispered, nervously fingering his bow.
As if in answer to his question, a black-robed and hooded figure rose at the top of a knoll and gestured almost contemptuously, A ball of incandescent fire seemed to leap from the figure’s hand, sizzled across the open field, and struck one of the frightened Grolims full in the chest with another of those cracking detonations. The Grolim shrieked and, clutching at his chest, fell to the earth.
“I guess that explains the noise,” Relg observed. “Barak,” Hettar said quietly, “that one on top of the knoll is a woman.” “Are you sure?”
‘ ‘IVe got very good eyes, Barak, and I can tell the difference between a man and a woman.”
‘ ‘So can I, but not when they’re all wrapped up in cloaks like
that.”
‘ ‘Look at her elbows the next time she raises her arms. Women’s elbows are hinged differently from ours. Adara says it has to do with carrying babies.”
“Did you fear to come alone, Agachak?” the woman atop the little hill demanded with contempt. Then she flicked another fireball, and another Grolim crumpled to the ground.
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111
“I fear nothing, Zandramas,” a hollow voice came from the trees at the edge of the field.
“Now we know who they are,” Hettar said. “But why are they fighting?”
“Zandramas is a woman?” Lelldorin asked in amazement.
Hettar nodded. “Queen Porenn found out about it some time back. She sent word to the Alorn kings, and Cho-Hag told me.”
Zandramas almost casually felled the three remaining Grolims. “Well, Agachak,” she said then, “will you come out of hiding now? Or must I come and find you?”
A tall, cadaverous-looking Grolim stepped out of the trees. “Your fire will have no effect on me, Zandramas,” he said, advancing toward the hooded woman.
“I wasn’t thinking of fire, Agachak,” she almost purred. “This will be your fate.” She suddenly seemed to blur and shimmer, and then standing in the place she had occupied was an enormous, hideous beast. It had a long, snakelike neck and huge bat wings.
“Belar!” Barak swore. “She just turned into a dragon!”
The dragon spread her wings and flapped into the air. The cadaverous Grolim shrank back, then raised both arms. There was a shocking sound, and the dragon was suddenly encased in a sheet of green fire. The voice that came thundering from the dragon’s mouth was still the voice of Zandramas. “You should have paid more attention to your studies, Agachak. If you had, you’d know that Torak made dragons immune to sorcery.” The dragon hovered over the now-terrified Grolim. “Incidentally, Agachak,” she said, “you’ll be happy to know that Urvon is dead. Give him my regards when you see him.” And then she struck, sinking her talons into Agachak’s chest. He shrieked once before a sudden billow of sooty fire burst from the dragon’s mouth and engulfed his face. And then the dragon bit his head off.
Lelldorin made a retching sound. “Great Chamdar!” he gasped in a revolted voice. “She’s eating him!”
There was a horrid crunching sound as the dragon continued her ghastly feast. Then at last, with a shrill scream of triumph, she spread her huge wings and flew off to the east.
“Is it safe to come out now?” a shaking voice asked from nearby.
“You’d better,” Barak said ominously, drawing his sword.
It was a Thull. He was young, with muddy-colored hair and a slack-lipped mouth.
112 SEERESS OF KELL
“What’s a Thull doing in Mallorea?” Lelldorin asked the