‘He’ll freeze to death!’ Ce’Nedra exclaimed.
‘Not under the snow, he won’t,’ Belgarath assured her. ‘Beldin tends to ignore weather.’ He looked at the she-wolf, who sat on her haunches at the opening of the lean-to staring out at the swirling snow. ‘One is grateful for your warning, little sister,’ he said formally.
‘One is a member of your pack now, revered leader,’ she replied with equal formality. ‘The well-being of all is the responsibility of all.’
‘Wisely said, little sister.’
She wagged her tail but said nothing else.
The blizzard continued for the rest of the day and then on into the night while Garion and the others sat around the fire Durnik had built. Then, about midnight, the wind died as quickly as it had come. The snow continued to sift down among the trees until morning, and then it, too, abated. It had done its work, however. The snow outside the lean-to reached above Garion’s knees. ‘We’re going to have to break a trail, I’m afraid,’ Durnik said soberly. ‘It’s a quarter of a mile back up to that caravan track, and there are all sorts of things hidden under this fresh snow. This is not a good time – or place – to start breaking the horses’ legs.’
‘What about my carriage?’ Ce’Nedra asked him.
‘I’m afraid we’ll have to leave it behind, Ce’Nedra. The snow’s just too deep. Even if we could get it back up onto the road, the carriage horse wouldn’t be able to drag it through the drifts.’
She sighed. ‘It was such a nice carriage, too.’ Then she looked at Silk with a perfectly straight face. ‘I certainly want to thank you for lending it to me, Prince Kheldar,’ she told him. ‘I’ve finished with it now, so you can have it back.’
It was Toth who broke the initial trail up the steep slope to the caravan track. The others followed behind him, trampling the trail wider and searching for hidden logs and branches with their feet. It took nearly two hours to plow out the trail back to the caravan track, and they were all panting from the exertion at this high altitude.
They started back down toward the lean-to where the ladies waited with the horses, but about half-way down, the wolf suddenly laid back her ears and snarled.
‘What is it?’ Garion said.
‘The creature,’ she growled. ‘He hunts.’
‘Get ready!’ Garion shouted to the others. ‘That animal is out there!’ He reached back over his shoulder and drew Iron-grip’s sword.
It came out of the thicket on the far side of the avalanche track. Its shaggy coat was clotted with snow, and it shuffled along in a brutish half-crouch. Its face was hideous and chillingly familiar. It had piglike eyes sunk beneath heavy brow ridges. Its lower jaw jutted out, and two massive yellow tusks curved up over its cheeks. It opened its mouth and roared, pounding on its vast chest with its fists and rising to its full height. It was almost eight feet tall.
‘That’s impossible!’ Belgarath exclaimed.
‘What is it?’ Sadi demanded.
‘It’s an Eldrak,’ Belgarath said, ‘and the only place the Eldrakyn live is in Ulgoland.’
‘I think you’re wrong, Belgarath,’ Zakath disagreed. ‘That’s what’s called an ape-bear. There are a few of them in these mountains.’
‘Do you gentlemen suppose we could discuss its exact species some other time?’ Silk suggested. ‘The main question now is whether we fight or run.’
‘We can’t run in this snow,’ Garion said grimly. ‘We’re going to have to fight it.’
‘I was afraid you might say that.’
‘The main thing is to keep it away from the ladies,’ Durnik said. He looked at the eunuch. ‘Sadi, would the poison on your dagger kill it?’
Sadi looked dubiously at the shaggy beast. ‘I’m sure it would,’ he said, ‘but that thing is awfully large. It would take a while for the poison to work.’
‘That’s it, then,’ Belgarath decided. ‘The rest of us will keep its attention and give Sadi time to get around behind it. After he stabs it, we’ll fall back and give the poison time to take effect. Spread out, and don’t take any chances.’ He blurred into the form of a wolf.
They moved into a rough half-circle, their weapons at the ready as the monster continued to roar and pound on its chest at the edge of the trees, working itself up into a frenzy. Then it lumbered forward with the snow spraying out from its huge feet. Sadi edged his way uphill, his small dagger held low even as Belgarath and the she-wolf darted in to tear at the beast with their fangs.
Garion’s mind was working very clearly as he advanced through the deep snow, swinging his sword threateningly. He saw that this creature was not as quick as Grul the Eldrak had been. It was not able to respond to the sudden, darting attacks of the wolves, and the snow around it was soon spotted with its blood. It roared in frustration and rage and made a desperate rush at Durnik. Toth, however, stepped in and drove the tip of his heavy staff squarely into the beast’s face. It howled in pain and spread its huge arms wide to catch the big mute in a crushing embrace, but Garion slashed it across one shoulder with his sword even as Zakath ducked under the other shaggy arm and gashed it across the chest and belly with whiplike sword strokes.
The creature bellowed, and its blood spurted from its wounds.
‘Any time now, Sadi,’ Silk said urgently, ducking and feinting and trying to get a clean throw with one of his heavy daggers.
The wolves continued their harrying attacks on the animal’s flanks and legs as Sadi cautiously advanced on the raging beast’s back. Desperately, the creature flailed about with its huge arms, trying to keep its attackers away.
Then, with almost surgical precision, the she-wolf lunged in and ripped the heavy muscle at the back of the beast’s left knee with her fangs.
The agonized shriek was dreadful – all the more so because it was strangely human. The shaggy beast toppled backward, clutching at its maimed leg.
Garion reversed his great sword, grasping the cross-piece of the hilt, bestrode the writhing body and raised the weapon, intending to drive the point full into the shaggy chest.
‘Please!’ it cried, its brutish face twisted in agony and terror. ‘Please don’t kill me!’
CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS A Grolim. The huge beast lying in the blood-stained snow blurred and changed even as Garion’s friends moved in with their weapons ready to deliver the last fatal strokes.