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"I wonder," Barak considered. "If we're being followed this closely,

wouldn't it be better to discard the wagons and this tiresome disguise,

buy good horses and simply make straight for Muros at a gallop?"

Wolf shook his head. "I don't think the Murgos are all that certain

where we are," he said. "Brill could be here for some other dishonesty,

and we'd be foolish to start running from shadows. Better just to move

on quietly. Even if Brill is still working for the Murgos, I'd rather

just slip away and leave them all beating the bushes here in central

Sendaria." He stood up. "I'm going to step upstairs and let Pol know

what's happened." He crossed the common room and mounted the stairs.

"I still don't like it," Barak muttered, his face dark.

They sat quietly then, waiting for Silk's return. The fire popped,

and Garion started slightly. It occurred to him as he waited that he had

changed a great deal since they'd left Faldor's farm. Everything had

seemed simple then with the world neatly divided into friends and

enemies. In the short time since they'd left, however, he'd begun to

perceive complexities that he hadn't imagined before. He'd grown wary

and distrustful and listened more frequently to that interior voice that

always advised caution if not outright guile. He'd also learned not to

accept anything at face value. Briefly he regretted the loss of his

former innocence, but the dry voice told him that such regret was

childish.

Then Mister Wolf came back down the stairs and rejoined them. After

about a half hour Silk returned. "Thoroughly disreputable-looking

fellow," he said, standing in front of the fire. "My guess is that he's a

common footpad."

"Brill's seeking his natural level," Wolf observed. "If he's still

working for the Murgos, he's probably hiring ruffians to watch for us.

They'll be looking for four people on foot, however, rather than six in

wagons. If we can get out of Winold early enough in the morning, I think

we can elude them altogether."

"I think Durnik and I should stand watch tonight," Barak said.

"Not a bad idea," Wolf agreed. "Let's plan to leave about the fourth

hour after midnight. I'd like to have two or three leagues of back roads

between us and this place when the sun comes up."

Garion scarcely slept that night; when he did, there were nightmares

about a hooded man with a cruel sword chasing him endlessly down dark,

narrow streets. When Barak woke them, Garion's eyes felt sandy, and his

head was thick from the exhausting night.

Aunt Pol carefully drew the shutters in their chamber before lighting

a single candle. "It's going to be colder now," she said, opening the

large bundle she'd had him carry up from the wagons. She took out a pair

of heavy woolen hose and winter boots lined with lambswool. "Put these

on," she instructed Garion, "and your heavy cloak."

"I'm not a baby any more, Aunt Pol," Garion said.

"Do you enjoy being cold?"

"Well, no, but " He stopped, unable to think of any words to explain

how he felt. He began to dress. He could hear the faint murmur of the

others talking softly in the adjoining chamber in that curious, hushed

tone that men always assume when they rise before the sun.

"We're ready, Mistress Pol," Silk's voice came through the doorway.

"Let's leave then," she said, drawing up the hood of her cloak.

The moon had risen late that night and shone brightly on the

frostsilvered stones outside the inn. Durnik had hitched the horses to

the wagons and had led them out of the stable.

"We'll lead the horses out to the road," Wolf said very quietly. "I see no need of rousing the villagers as we pass."

Silk again took the lead, and they moved slowly out of the innyard.

The fields beyond the village were white with frost, and the pale,

smoky-looking moonlight seemed to have leeched all color from them.

"As soon as we're well out of earshot," Wolf said, climbing up into

his wagon, "let's put some significant distance between us and this

place. The wagons are empty, and a little run won't hurt the horses."

"Truly," Silk agreed.

They all mounted their wagons and set off at a walk. The stars

glittered overhead in the crisp, cold sky. The fields were very white in

the moonlight, and the clumps of trees back from the road very dark.

Just as they went over the first hilltop, Garion looked back at the

dark cluster of houses in the valley behind. A single flicker of light

came from a window somewhere, a lone, golden pinpoint that appeared and

then vanished.

"Someone's awake back there," he told Silk. "I just saw a light."

"Some early riser perhaps," Silk suggested. "But then again, perhaps

not." He shook the reins slightly, and the horses increased their pace.

He shook them again, and they began to trot.

"Hang on, boy," he instructed, reached forward and slapped the reins down smartly on the rumps of the horses.

The wagon bounced and clattered fearfully behind the running team,

and the bitterly chill air rushed at Garion's face as he clung to the

wagon seat.

At full gallop the three wagons plunged down into the next valley,

rushing between the frost-white fields in the bright moonlight, leaving

the village and its single light far behind.

By the time the sun rose, they had covered a good four leagues, and

Silk reined in his steaming horses. Garion felt battered and sore from

the wild ride over the iron-hard roads and was glad for the chance to

rest. Silk handed him the reins and jumped down from the wagon. He

walked back and spoke briefly to Mister Wolf and Aunt Pol, then returned

to the wagon.

"We turn off at that lane just ahead," he told Garion as he massaged his fingers.

Garion offered him the reins.

"You drive," Silk told him. "My hands are frozen stiff. Just let the horses walk."

Garion clucked at the horses and shook the reins slightly. Obediently, the team started out again.

"The lane circles around to the back of that hill," Silk said,

pointing with his chin since his hands were tucked inside his tunic. "On

the far side there's a copse of fir trees. We'll stop there to rest the

horses."

"Do you think we're being followed?" Garion asked.

"This'll be a good time to find out," Silk said.

They rounded the hill and drove on down to where the dark firs

bordered the road. Then Garion turned the horses and moved in under the

shadowy trees.

"This will do fine," Silk said, getting down. "Come along."

"Where are we going?"

"I want to have a look at that road behind us," Silk said. "We'll go

up through the trees to the top of the hill and see if our back trail

has attracted any interest."