Demon Lord of Karanda

right an' a little farther on, another t' the left, an' then it comes out in the courtyard of the house."
    "Why so many twists and turns?" Garion asked him.
    "'Torak was a crooked sort, don't y' know. I think he hated straight lines almost as much as he hated the sun."
    They followed the faint spot of light the lantern cast.
    Leaves had blown in through the entrance over the centuries to lie in a thick, damp mat on the floor, effectively muffling the sounds of their horses' hooves.
    The grate that barred the passageway was a massively constructed crisscross of rusty iron. Feldegast fumbled for a moment with the huge latch, then swung it clear. "An' now, me large friend," he said to Toth, "we'll be havin' need of yer great strength here. The gate is cruel let me warn ye, an' the hinges be so choked with rust that they'll not likely yield easily." He paused a moment. "An' that reminds me -ah, where have me brains gone? We'll be needin' somethin' t' mask the dreadful squeakin' when ye swing the grate open." He looked back at the others. "Take a firm grip on the reins of yer horses," he warned them, "fer this is likely t' give 'em a bit of a turn."
    Toth place his huge hands on the heavy grate, then looked at the juggler.
    "Go!" Feldegast said sharply, then he lifted his face and bayed, his voice almost perfectly imitating the sound of one of the great Hounds prowling outside, even as the slowly swung the grate open on shrieking hinges.
    Chretienne snorted and shied back from the dreadful howl, but Garion held his reins tightly.
    "Oh, that was clever," Silk said in quiet admiration.
    "I have me moments from time to time," Feldegast admitted. "With all the dogs outside raisin' their awful caterwallin ', 'tis certain that one more little yelp won't attract no notice, but the squealin' of them hinges could have been an altogether different matter."
    He led them on through the now-open grate and on along the dank passageway to a sharp right-hand turn. Somewhat farther along, the passage bent again to the left. Before he rounded that corner, the juggler closed down his lantern entirely, plunging them into total darkness. "We be approachin' the main court now," he whispered to them. " 'Tis the time for silence an' caution, fer if there be others in the house, they'll be payin' a certain amount of attention t' be sure that no one creeps up on 'em. There be a handrail along the wall there, an' I think it might be wise t' tie the horses here. Their hooves would make a fearful clatter on the stones of the court, an' we'll not be wantin' t' ride them up an' down the corridors of this accursed place."
    Silently they tied the reins of their mounts to the rusty iron railing and then crept on quiet feet to the turn in the passageway. There was a lessening of the darkness beyond the turn -not light, certainly, but a perceptible moderation of the oppressive gloom. And then they watched the inside entrance to the sally port and looked out across the broad courtyard toward the looming black house beyond. There was no discernible grace to the construction of that house. It rose in blocky ugliness almost as if the builders had possessed no understanding of the meaning of the word beauty, but had striven instead for a massive kind of arrogance to reflect the towering Pride of its owner.
    "Well," Belgarath whispered grimly, "that's Ashaba."
    Garion looked at the dark house before him, half in apprehension and half with a kind of dreadful eagerness.
    Something caught his eye then, and he thrust his head out to look along the front of the house across the court.
    At the far end, in a window on a lower floor, a dim light glowed, looking for all the world like a watchful eye.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
    "Now what?" Silk breathed, looking at the dimly lighted window. "We've got to cross that courtyard to get to the house, but we can't be sure if there's somebody watching from that window or not."
    "You've been out of the academy for too long, Kheldar," Velvet murmured. "You've forgotten your lessons. If stealth is impossible, then you try boldness."
    "You're suggesting that we just walk up to the door and knock?"
    "Well, I hadn't planned to knock, exactly."
    "What have you got in mind, Liselle?" Polgara asked quietly.
    "If there are people in the house, they're probably Grolims, right?"
    "It's more than likely." Belgarath said. "Most other people avoid this place."
    "Grolims pay little attention to other Grolims, I've noticed," she continued.
    "You're