Demon Lord of Karanda

follow them all when they leave."
    "I suppose you're right," the smith agreed.
    By late afternoon they were well past Mal Yaska, and the snow -topped peaks in Katakor loomed higher ahead of them, starkly outlined against the dirty gray clouds scudding in from the west.
    "Will ye be wantin' t' stop fer the night before we cross the border?" Feldegast asked Belgarath.
    "How far is it to there from here?"
    "Not far at all, Ancient One."
    "Is it guarded?"
    "Usually, yes."
    "Silk," the old man said, "ride on ahead and have a look."
    The little man nodded and nudged his horse into a gallop.
    "All right," Belgarath said, signaling for a halt so that they could all hear him. "Everybody we've seen this afternoon was going south. Nobody's fleeing toward Katakor. Now, a man who's running away from someplace doesn't stop when the border's in sight. He keeps on going. That means that there's a fair chance that there's not going to be anybody within miles of the border on the Katakor side. If the border's not guarded, we can just go on across and take shelter for the night on the other side."
    "And if the border is guarded?" Sadi asked.
    Belgarath's eyes grew flat. "We're still going to go through," he replied.
    "That's likely to involve fighting."
    "That's right. Let's move along, shall we?" About fifteen minutes later, Silk returned. "There are about ten Guardsmen at the crossing," he reported.
    "Any chance of taking them by surprise?" Belgarath asked him.
    "A little, but the road leading to the border is straight and flat for a half mile on either side of the guard post."
    The old man muttered a curse under his breath. "All right then," he said. "They'll at least have time to get to their horses. We don't want to give them the leisure to get themselves set. Remember what Feldegast said about keeping your wits. Don't take any chances, but I want all of those Guardsmen on their backs after our first charge. Pol, you stay back with the ladies -and Eriond."
    "But-" Velvet began to protest.
    "Don't argue with me, Liselle -just this once."
    "Couldn't Lady Polgara just put them to sleep?" Sadi asked. "The way she did with the spies back in Mal Zeth?"
    Belgarath shook his head. "There are a few Grolims among the Guardsmen, and that particular technique doesn't work on Grolims. This time we're going to have to do it by main strength -just to be on the safe side."
    Sadi nodded glumly, dismounted, and picked up a stout tree limb from the side of the road. He thumped it experimentally on the turf. "I want you all to know that this is not my preferred way of doing things," he said.
    The rest of them also dismounted and armed themselves with cudgels and staffs. Then they moved on.
    The border was marked by a stone shed painted white and by a gate consisting of a single white pole resting on posts on either side of the road. A dozen horses were tethered just outside the shed, and lances leaned against the wall. A single, mail-coated Guardsman paced back and forth across the road on the near side of the gate, his sword leaning back over his shoulder.
    "All right," Belgarath said. "Let's move as fast as we can. Wait here, Pol."
    Garion sighed. "I guess I'd better go first."
    "We were hoping that you'd volunteer." Silk's grin was tight.
    Garion ignored that. He buckled on his shield, settled his helmet in place, and once again lifted the butt of his lance out of his stirtup . "Is everybody ready?" he asked, looking around. Then he advanced his lance and spurred his horse into a charge with the others close on his heels.
    The Guardsman at the gate took one startled look at the warlike party bearing down on him, ran to the door of the shed, and shouted at his comrades inside. Then he struggled into the saddle of his tethered horse, leaned over to pick up his lance, and moved out into the road.
    Other Guardsmen came boiling out of the shed, struggling with their equipment and stumbling over each other.
    Garion had covered half the distance to the gate before more than two or three of the armored men were in their saddles. And so it was that the man who had been standing watch was forced to meet his charge alone.
    The results were relatively predictable.
    As Garion thundered past his unhorsed opponent, another Guardsman came out into the road at a half gallop, but Garion gave him no time to set himself or to turn his horse. The crashing impact against the unprepared man's shield hurled his horse from its feet. The Guardsman came down before the