spellsinger universe

"I do too, sometimes," Garion admitted, looking at the towering

mountains that seemed to rise directly out of the forest ahead. "Someday

it will be over, though, and we'll be able to go home again."

Durnik nodded and sighed once more.

By the time they had entered the woods, Barak had regained his temper

and his good spirits, and he set about placing the hunters as if

nothing had happened. He led Garion through the calf deep snow to a

large tree some distance from the narrow sleigh track.

"This is a good place," he said. "There's a game trail here, and the

boars may use it to try to escape the noise of Torvik and his huntsmen.

When one comes, brace yourself and hold your spear with its point aimed

at his chest. They don't see very well, and he'll run full into your

spear before he even knows it's there. After that it's probably best to

jump behind a tree. Sometimes the spear makes them very angry."

"What if I miss?" Garion asked.

"I wouldn't do that," Barak advised. "It's not a very good idea."

"I didn't mean that I was going to do it on purpose," Garion said. "Will he try to get away from me or what?"

"Sometimes they'll try to run," Barak said, "but I wouldn't count on

it. More likely he'll try to split you up the middle with his tusks. At

that point it's usually a good idea to climb a tree."

"I'll remember that," Garion said.

"I won't be far away if you have trouble," Barak promised, handing

Garion a pair of heavy spears. Then he trudged back to his sleigh, and

they all galloped off, leaving Garion standing alone under the large oak

tree.

It was shadowy among the dark tree trunks, and bitingly cold. Garion

walked around a bit through the snow, looking for the best place to

await the boar. The trail Barak had pointed out was a beaten path

winding back through the dark brush, and Garion found the size of the

tracks imprinted in the snow on the path alarmingly large. The oak tree

with low-spreading limbs began to look very inviting, but he dismissed

that thought angrily. He was expected to stand on the ground and meet

the charge of the boar, and he decided that he would rather die than

hide in a tree like a frightened child.

The dry voice in his mind advised him that he spent far too much time

worrying about things like that. Until he was grown, no one would

consider him a man, so why should he go to all the trouble of trying to

seem brave when it wouldn't do any good anyway?

The forest was very quiet now, and the snow muffled all sounds. No

bird sang, and there was only the occasional padded thump of snow

sliding from overloaded branches to the earth beneath. Garion felt

terribly alone. What was he doing here? What business had a good,

sensible Sendarian boy here in the endless forests of Cherek, awaiting

the charge of a savage wild pig with only a pair of unfamiliar spears

for company?

What had the pig ever done to him? He realized that he didn't even particularly like the taste of pork.

He was some distance from the beaten forest track along which their

sleighs had passed, and he set his back to the oak tree, shivered, and

waited.

He didn't realize how long he had been listening to the sound when he

became fully aware of it. It was not the stamping, squealing rush of a

wild boar he had been expecting but was, rather, the measured pace of

several horses moving slowly along the snow-carpeted floor of the

forest, and it was coming from behind him. Cautiously he eased his face

around the tree.

Three riders, muffled in furs, emerged from the woods on the far side

of the sleigh-churned track. They stopped and sat waiting. Two of them

were bearded warriors, little different from dozens of others Garion had

seen in King Anheg's palace. The third man, however, had long,

flaxencolored hair and wore no beard. His face had the sullen, pampered

look of a sPolled child, although he was a man of middle years, and he

sat his horse disdainfully as if the company of the other two somehow

offended him.

After a time, the sound of another horse came from near the edge of

the forest. Almost holding his breath, Garion waited. The other rider

slowly approached the three who sat their horses in the snow at the edge

of the trees. It was the sandy-bearded man in the green cloak whom

Garion had seen creeping through the passageways of King Anheg's palace

two nights before.

"My Lord," the green-cloaked man said deferentially as he joined the other three.

"Where have you been?" the flaxen-haired man demanded.

"Lord Barak took some of his guests on a boar hunt this morning. His

route was the same as mine, and I didn't want to follow too closely."

The nobleman grunted sourly.

"We saw them deeper in the wood," he said. "Well, what have you heard?"

"Very little, my Lord. The kings are meeting with the old man and the

woman in a guarded chamber. I can't get close enough to head what

they're saying."

"I'm paying you good gold to get close enough. I have to know what

they're saying. Go back to the palace and work out a way to hear what

they're talking about."

"I'll try, my Lord," the green-cloaked man said, bowing somewhat stifliy.

"You'll do more than try," the flaxen-haired man snapped.

"As you wish, my Lord," the other said, starting to turn his horse.

"Wait," the nobleman commended. "Were you able to meet with our friend?"

"Your friend, my Lord," the other corrected with distaste. "I met him, and we went to a tavern and talked a little."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing very useful. His kind seldom do."

"Will he meet us as he said he would?"

"He told me that he would. If you want to believe him, that's your affair."

The nobleman ignored that.

"Who arrived with the King of the Sendars?"

"The old man and the woman, another old man-some Sendarian noble, I

think, Lord Barak and a weasel-faced Drasnian, and another Sendar - a

commoner of some sort."

"That's all? Wasn't there a boy with them as well?"

The spy shrugged.

"I didn't think the boy was important," he said.

"He's there then-in the palace?"

"He is, my Lord-an ordinary Sendarian boy of about fourteen, I'd judge. He seems to be some kind of servant to the woman."

"Very well. Go back to the palace and get close enough to that chamber to hear what the kings and the old man are saying."

"That may be very dangerous, my Lord."

"It'll be more dangerous if you don't. Now go, before that ape Barak

comes back and finds you loitering here." He whirled his horse and,

followed by his two warriors, plunged back into the forest on the far

side of the snowy track that wound among the dark trees.