Demon Lord of Karanda

wouldn't think so. It's the wrong time of year for it, and those people don't have any carts with them." He swung down from his saddle and went back to the packhorses. A moment or so later, he came back with a poorly tanned red fur vest and a baggy fur hat. He pulled them on, bent over and wrapped a pair of sackcloth leggings about his calves, tying them in place with lengths of cord. "How do I look?" he asked.
    "Shabby," Garion told him.
    "That's the idea. Shab's in fashion here in Karanda." He remounted.
    "Where did you get the clothes?" Belgarath asked curiously.
    "I pillaged one of the bodies back at the temple." The little man shrugged. "I like to keep a few disguises handy. I'll go find out what's happening down there." He dug his heels into his horse's flanks and galloped down toward the throng gathering near the lakeside village.
    "Let's pull back out of sight," Belgarath suggested. "I'd rather not attract too much attention."
    They walked their horses down the back side of the knoll and then some distance away from the road to a shallow gully that offered concealment and dismounted there. Garion climbed back up out of the gully on foot and lay down in the tall grass to keep watch.
    About a half-hour later, Silk came loping back over the top of the knoll. Garion rose from the grass and signaled to him.
    When the little man reached the gully and dismounted, his expression was disgusted. "Religion," he snorted. "I wonder what the world would be like without it. That gathering down there is for the purpose of witnessing the performance of a powerful wizard, who absolutely guarantees that he can raise a demon -despite the notable lack of success of others lately. He's even hinting that he might be able to persuade the Demon Lord Nahaz himself to put in an appearance. That crowd's likely to be there all day."
    "Now what?" Sadi asked.
    Belgarath walked down the gully a ways, looking thoughtfully up at the sky. When he came back, his look was determined. "We're going to need a couple more of those," he said, pointing at Silk's disguise.
    "Nothing simpler," Silk replied. "There are still enough latecomers going down that hill for me to be able to waylay a few. What's the plan?"
    "You, Garion, and I are going down there."
    "Interesting notion, but I don't get the point."
    "The wizard, whoever he is, is promising to raise Nahaz, but Nahaz is with Urvon and isn't very likely to show up. After what we saw happen at that village yesterday, it's fairly obvious that failing to produce a demon is a serious mistake for a wizard to make. If our friend down there is so confident, it probably means that he's going to create an illusion -since nobody's been able to produce the real thing lately. I'm good at illusions myself, so I'll just go down and challenge him."
    "Won't they just fall down and worship your illusion?" Velvet asked him.
    His smile was chilling. "I don't really think so, Liselle," he replied. "You see, there are demons, and then there are demons. If I do it right, there won't be a Karand within five leagues of this place by sunset -depending on how fast they can run, of course." He looked at Silk. "Haven't you left yet?" he asked pointedly.
    While Silk went off in search of more disguises, the old sorcerer made a few other preparations. He found a long, slightly crooked branch to use as a staff and a couple of feathers to stick in his hair. Then he sat down and laid his head back against one of their packs. "All right, Pol," he instructed his daughter, "make me hideous."
    She smiled faintly and started to raise one hand. "Not that way. Just take some ink and draw some designs on my face. They don't have to be too authentic-looking. The Karands have corrupted their religion so badly that they wouldn't recognize authenticity if they stepped in it."
    She laughed and went to one of the packs, returning a moment later with an inkpot and a quill pen.
    "Why on earth are you carrying ink, Lady Polgara?" Ce'Nedra asked.
    "I like to be prepared for eventualities as they arise. I went on a long journey once and had to leave a note for someone along the way. I didn't have ink with me, so I ended up opening a vein to get something to write with. I seldom make the same mistake twice. Close your eyes, father. I always like to start with the eyelids and work my way out."
    Belgarath closed his eyes. "Durnik," he said as Polgara started drawing designs on his face with her quill, "you and the others will stay back here. See if you