Belgarath the Sorcerer / Page 160

Page 160


‘Then why isn’t he hiding? I located him in about two hours. I’m good, but I don’t think I’m that good.’

I gave him a sharp look. ‘Maybe we’d better go have a look at this fellow,’ I said. ‘I think I know you well enough by now to trust your instincts. If you’re getting a whiff of something that doesn’t smell right, we’d probably better investigate.’

He bowed with outrageous flamboyance. ‘I live but to serve, Ancient One,’ he told me.

It was nearly midnight, and a raw wind was blowing through the deserted streets of Tol Borune as we went to the southern end of town where the Murgos usually gathered. Silk led me to a blocky sort of inn, and then we crept around to a bleary window made of cheap glass. ‘That’s the one they tell me is Asharak the Murgo,’ the little thief whispered, pointing at a scar-faced fellow sitting back in a corner.

The man looked like Chamdar, and I’ll concede that the resemblance was almost uncanny, but when I sent out a carefully probing thought to make sure, my heart sank. The Murgo sitting in that corner was not Chamdar. I started to swear.

‘What’s the matter?’ Silk whispered.

‘That man’s not the one I’m looking for.’

‘Belgarath, there are people in this town who know him, and they’re all convinced that he’s Asharak the Murgo.’

‘I’m sorry about that, but they’re wrong. We’ve been chasing an imposter.’ I swore some more. ‘We’d better get back to Tol Honeth. I want to fill Javelin in on this. The man everybody’s been watching isn’t Chamdar.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Chamdar’s a Grolim. That fellow at the table’s just an ordinary Murgo. The resemblance is very close, but that fellow’s not the one we want to find.’ I thought about it as we returned to our lodgings. The startling discovery explained a lot of things. I’m ashamed to admit that I hadn’t thought of it before. I should have known that something had made Chamdar so hard to keep track of. My brains must have been asleep.

‘What gave that Murgo back there away?’ Silk asked.

‘His thoughts. I can recognize Chamdar’s mind when I encounter it. We’re just wasting time here in Tol Borune. I want to be on the road to Tol Honeth when the sun comes up.’

‘Javelin’s going to be very upset about this, you know. He’s devoted a lot of time and money to watching this imposter.’

‘It’s not his fault. It’s probably mine. For all we know, there could be a half-dozen or so of these imitation Asharaks knocking around here in the west. Chamdar’s working for Ctuchik, and I’m sure that Ctuchik knows how to alter another man’s features enough to lead us astray.’

‘What’s Chamdar supposed to do?’

‘He’s looking for something. I’ve been trying to keep him from finding it.’

‘Oh? What’s he looking for?’

‘You don’t need to know that, Silk. When we get back to Tol Honeth, I want you to go to Cherek.’

‘Cherek? At this time of year?’

‘The time of year doesn’t make any difference. You know Barak, don’t you?’

‘The Earl of Trellheim? Of course. He and I got drunk together at the last meeting of the Alorn Council. He’s a bit of a braggart, but I sort of like him.’

‘Hold that thought. You two are going to be working together for quite a long time.’

‘How do you know that?’

I couldn’t resist it. ‘I have my sources.’ I threw his clever remark back into his own teeth. ‘I want you to go to Trellheim and take Barak in hand. He’ll never be a really competent spy, but he needs to know what’s going on in the world. He’s only nineteen, and he needs educating.’

‘I’ll have to clear this with Javelin first.’

‘Forget about Javelin. I’ll tell him what he needs to know. From now on, you’re working for me. When I call you, I want you to come immediately, and when I tell you to do something, I want you to do it. No arguments. No questions. What we’re involved in is the most important thing since the cracking of the world, and you’re going to be in it up to your pointed nose.’

‘Well, now,’ he said. Then he gave me a shrewd look. ‘It’s finally come, then, hasn’t it?’

‘That it has, my young friend.’

‘Are we going to win?’

‘We’re certainly going to try.’

When we got to Tol Honeth, Beldin was waiting for me at the Drasnian embassy. ‘What are you doing here?’ I demanded of him. I wasn’t particularly gracious about it.

‘You’re in a sour mood,’ my brother noted.

‘I got a nasty surprise a few days ago. Ctuchik’s devised a way to make ordinary Murgos resemble Chamdar. I’ve been counting on Drasnian intelligence to keep an eye on him for me, but that was a mistake. They’ve spent centuries watching the wrong people.’

Beldin whistled. ‘That’s something we didn’t expect. I told you that you ought to do your own work. You do realize that you’ve given Chamdar an absolutely free rein with this laziness of yours, don’t you?’

‘Don’t beat it into the ground, Beldin. I blundered. It happens.’

‘You’d better hustle your behind back to Sendaria. Pol’s out there all alone, and you haven’t got the faintest idea of where Chamdar really is.’

‘Where is she?’

‘I was just getting to that - it’s why I’m here, actually. The twins called me back to the Vale and sent me out to find you. She left that house of hers at Erat last week.’

‘Where’d she go?’

‘There’s a village called Upper Gralt south of Erat. Pol’s at the farm of a man named Faldor about ten leagues west of there. She’s working in his kitchen, and she’s got the baby there with her. You’d better get up there and warn her that Chamdar’s on the loose.’

‘You’re probably right,’ I agreed glumly. ‘I’ve made a pretty thorough mess of things so far, haven’t I?’

‘You haven’t exactly covered yourself with glory. Is the “Guide” as good as the Mrin says he’s going to be?’

‘Close. I’ll probably have to hone his edge a bit, though.’

‘Does he know what’s really going on?’

‘He’s made some educated guesses that aren’t too far off the mark.’

‘Are the rest of them in place?’

‘I’m missing the “Mother of the Race that Died”, but I’m sure she’ll turn up when we need her.’

‘Optimism’s all well and good, Belgarath, but sometimes you carry it to extremes.’

‘Are you going back to the Vale?’

‘No. I’d better get back to southern Cthol Murgos. Torak could be waking up at any time now, and somebody’s got to keep an eye on him.’

‘Right, and I’ll get on up to Sendaria.’

‘Have a nice trip.’

I dusted off my story-teller’s costume once again, and I left Tol Honeth as soon as the gates opened the following morning. I’d passed through the village of Upper Gralt a number of times over the years, so I knew exactly where it was.

My search for Chamdar had proved to be a serious waste of time, but it had led to the discovery of the ruse that had made it possible for him to elude me so many times. I suppose that counts for something. I didn’t really worry too much about the fact that he’d escaped me. I was fairly certain that he’d show up again someday and that I’d be able to deal with him once and for all.

I put all that behind me, though, and I took the imperial highway north toward Sendaria and a place called Faldor’s Farm.

Epilogue

Captain Greldik was swinishly drunk when the one-armed General Brendig and his men finally tracked him down to the waterfront dive in Camaar. ‘Ho, Brendig!’ Greldik bellowed. ‘You’d better come over here and get started! I’m already a long way ahead of you!’

‘What’s the fastest way to sober him up?’ Brendig asked the bulky sergeant standing just behind him.

‘We could throw him in the bay, I suppose, sir. It’s winter, and the water’s pretty cold. That might work.’ The sergeant didn’t sound very hopeful about it, though.

‘Be sure you don’t drown him.’

‘We’ll be careful, sir.’

The sergeant and his four Sendarian soldiers crossed the straw-covered floor of the tavern, picked Greldik up bodily, and carried him outside, ignoring his squirming and outraged howls of protest. Then they took him out to the end of the wharf, tied a rope to one of his legs, and threw him into the icy water.

Greldik was spluttering curses when he came to the surface. He still seemed fairly drunk to Brendig. ‘Let him swim around for a while,’ he instructed the sergeant.

‘Yes, sir.’ The sergeant was a veteran of the Battle of Thull Mardu, a solid, practical man who always seemed able to get things done.

They let Greldik flounder around in the bay for about five minutes, and then they unceremoniously hauled him out. ‘What do you think you’re doing, Brendig?’ Greldik demanded. His lips were turning blue and his teeth were chattering.


Prev Next