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Page 87
Page 87
"Let's go back," Garion said. "I don't think we need to keep watch here any more."
Belgarath and Beldin were both pale and shaken, and even Durnik seemed awed. "She hasn't done anything that noisy since she was about sixteen," Beldin said, blinking in astonishment. He looked suspiciously at Durnik. "Have you gone and got her pregnant?"
Even in the faint light from the overcast sky Garion could see his friend blushing furiously.
"What would that have to do with it?" Belgarath asked.
"It's only a theory of mine," Beldin said. "I can't prove it, because Polgara's the only sorceress I know right now, and she's never been in that condition."
"I'm sure you'll get around to explaining it—eventually."
"It's not that complicated, Belgarath. A woman's body gets a little confused when she's carrying a child. It does some peculiar things to her emotions and her thought processes. Focusing the Will takes control and concentration. A pregnant woman might just lose her grip on that sort of thing. You see—" He went on at some length to describe the physical, emotional, and intellectual changes involved in pregnancy.
He spoke in matter-of-fact, even graphic, terms. After a moment, Ce'Nedra and Velvet withdrew, firmly taking Eriond with them. A moment later, Durnik joined them.
"Did you work this out all by yourself?" Belgarath asked.
"It gave me something to speculate about while I was watching the cave where Zedar had hidden Torak."
"It took you five hundred years, then?"
"I wanted to be sure I'd covered all the possibilities." Beldin shrugged.
"Why didn't you just ask Pol? She could have told you immediately.''
Beldin blinked. "I never thought of that," he admitted.
Belgarath walked away, shaking his head.
Some time later, they heard a sudden, screeching bellow coming from the west through the murky sky.
"Everybody get down!" Belgarath hissed. "And keep quiet!''
"What is it?" Zakath exclaimed.
"Be still!" Beldin snapped. "She'll hear you!"
From overhead there came the flap of vast wings and a sooty orange billow of fire. Then the huge beast flew on, screeching and belching out flames.
"What was it?" Zakath repeated.
"Zandramas," Garion whispered. "Keep your voice down. She might come back."
They waited.
"She seems to be going toward all the noise Pol kicked up," Belgarath said in a low voice.
"At least she's not looking for us," Silk said with some relief.
"Not yet, anyway."
"That wasn't actually a dragon, was it?" Zakath asked the old man.
"No, not really. Garion was right. It was Zandramas. That's her other form."
"Isn't it just a bit ostentatious?"
"Zandramas seems to have urges in that direction. She can only go for so long without doing something spectacular. It might have something to do with the fact that she's a woman."
"I heard that, Belgarath," Ce'Nedra's voice came threateningly from the far side of the clearing.
"Maybe it didn't come out exactly the way I'd intended," he half apologized.
The snowy owl came drifting through the forest of dead trees. She hovered for a moment near the fire, then shimmered back into her own form.
"What did you do out there, Pol?" Belgarath asked her.
"I found a dormant volcano," she replied, taking her cloak from Durnik and wrapping it around her shoulders. "I reignited it. Did the Hounds go off to investigate?"
"Almost immediately," Garion assured her.
"So did Zandramas," Silk added.
"Yes, I saw her." She smiled faintly. "It worked out rather well, actually. When she gets there, she'll probably find the Hounds slinking around and decide to do something about them. I don't think they'll be bothering us any more, and I 'm sure Zandramas would be filled with chagrin if she found out that she's helping us."
"Were you that clumsy on purpose, Pol?" Beldin asked her.
"Of course. I wanted to make enough noise to draw off the Hounds—and any Grolims who might be in the area. Zandramas was just a bonus. Could you build up the fire again, dear?" she said to Durnik. "I think it's safe now to start thinking about supper."
They broke camp early the next morning. Polgara's Volcano was still belching smoke and ash high into the air, where they mingled with the pervading overcast to cause a sullen kind of gloom. The murky air reeked of sulfur.
"Flying in that isn't going to be very enjoyable," Beldin said sourly.
"We need to know what's ahead," Belgarath told him.
"I know that," Beldin replied. "I'm not stupid, you know. I was just making an observation." He bent slightly, changed form, and drove himself into the air with powerful strokes of his wings.
"I'd pay a fortune to have a hawk like that," Zakath said wistfully.
"You might have trouble training him," Belgarath said. "He's not the most tractable bird in the world."
"And the first time you tried to hood him, he'd probably rip off one of your fingers," Polgara added.
It was nearly noon when Beldin returned, flying hard. "Get ready!" he shouted almost before he had completed the change. "Temple Guardsmen—about ten—just over that rise! They're coming this way and they've got a Hound with them!"
Garion reached for his sword, and he heard Zakath's blade come whistling out of its sheath. "No!" he said sharply to the Mallorean. "Stay out of it!"
"Not a chance," Zakath replied.
"I'll take care of the dog," Sadi said, reaching into the pouch at his belt for some of the powder he had used so effectively in Karanda.
They spread out with their weapons in their hands as Eriond led the women to the rear.
The Hound came over the hill first, and it stopped when it saw them. Then it wheeled and loped back.
"That's it," Belgarath said. "They know we're here now.''
The Guardsmen came over the top of the hill at a rolling trot. Garion noticed that they weren't carrying lances, but each mail-clad man held a sword and wore a shield. They paused for a moment to assess the situation, then they charged. The Hound came first, running smoothly and with his lips peeled back from his teeth in a fearful snarl. Sadi spurred forward to meet him, holding a fistful of the powder. When the Hound reared up on his hind legs to drag the eunuch from his saddle, Sadi coolly hurled the powder full into the animal's face. The Hound shook his massive head, trying to clear his eyes. Then he sneezed once. His eyes grew wide, and his snarl turned into a terrified whimper. He shrieked suddenly, a dreadful, half-human sound. Then he turned and fled, howling in terror.