Enchanter's End Game

and the prostrate King of Drasnia.
    "How was the climb?" Barak inquired.
    "Ghastly," Rhodar wheezed. "Does anybody have anything to eat? I think I've melted off about ten pounds."
    "It doesn't show," Barak told him.
    "That sort of exertion isn't really good for you, Rhodar," Polgara told the gasping monarch. "Why were you so stubborn about it?"
    "Because I have an absolute horror of heights," Rhodar replied. "I'd climb ten times as far to avoid being hauled up that cliff by those contraptions. The idea of all that empty air under me makes my flesh creep."
    Barak grinned. "That's a lot of creeping."
    "Will somebody please give me something to eat?" Rhodar asked in an anguished tone of voice.
    "A bit of cold chicken?" Durnik offered solicitously, handing him a well-browned chicken leg.
    "Where did you ever find a chicken?" Rhodar exclaimed, eagerly seizing the leg.
    "The Thulls brought some with them," Durnik told him.
    "Thulls?" Ce'Nedra gasped. "What are Thulls doing here?"
    "Surrendering," Durnik replied. "Whole villages of them have been showing up for the past week or so. They walk up to the edge of the ditches along the front of the fortification and sit down and wait to be captured. They're very patient about it. Sometimes it's a day or so before anybody has the time to go out and capture them, but they don't seem to mind."
    "Why do they want to be captured?" Ce'Nedra asked him.
    "There aren't any Grolims here," Durnik explained. "No altars to Torak and no sacrificial knives. The Thulls seem to feel that getting away from that sort of thing is worth the inconvenience of being captured. We take them in and put them to work on the fortifications. They're good workers, if you give them the proper supervision."
    "Is that entirely safe?" Rhodar asked around a mouthful of chicken. "There might be spies among them."
    Durnik nodded. "We know," he said, "but the spies are usually Grolims. A Thull doesn't have the mental equipment to be a spy, so the Grolims have to do it themselves."
    Rhodar lowered his chicken leg in astonishment. "You're letting Grolims inside the fortifications?" he demanded.
    "It's nothing all that serious," Durnik told him. "The Thulls know who the Grolims are, and we let them deal with the problem. They usually take them a mile or so along the escarpment and then throw them off. At first they wanted to do it right here, but some of their elders pointed out that it might not be polite to drop Grolims down on top of the men working below, so they take them some place where they won't bother anybody when they fall. A very considerate people, the Thulls. One could almost get to like them."
    "You've sunburned your nose, Ce'Nedra," Polgara told the little princess. "Didn't you think of wearing a hat?"
    "Hats give me a headache." Ce'Nedra shrugged. "A little sunburn won't hurt me."
    "You have an appearance to maintain, dear," Polgara pointed out. "You're not going to look very queenly with your nose peeling."
    "It's nothing to worry about, Lady Polgara. You can fix it, can't you? You know-" Ce'Nedra made a little gesture with her hand that was meant to look magical.
    Polgara gave her a long, chilly look.
    King Anheg of Cherek, accompanied by the broad-shouldered Rivan Warder, approached them. "Did you have a nice climb?" he asked Rhodar pleasantly.
    "How would you like a punch in the nose?" Rhodar asked him. King Anheg laughed coarsely.
    "My," he said, "aren't we grumpy today? I've just had some news from home that ought to brighten your disposition a bit."
    "Dispatches?" Rhodar groaned, hauling himself wearily to his feet. Anheg nodded. "They sent them up from down below while you were getting your exercise. You're not going to believe what's been going on back there."
    "Try me."
    "You absolutely won't believe it."
    "Anheg, spit it out."
    "We're about to get some reinforcements. Islena and Porenn have been very busy these last few weeks."
    Polgara looked at him sharply.
    "Do you know something?" Anheg said, holding out a folded dispatch. "I wasn't even aware of the fact that Islena knew how to read and write, and now I get this."
    "Don't be cryptic, Anheg," Polgara told him. "What have the ladies been up to?"
    "I gather that after we left, the Bear-cult began to make itself a bit obnoxious. Grodeg apparently felt that with the men out of the way, he could take over. He started throwing his weight around in Val Alorn, and cult members began to surface in the headquarters of Drasnian intelligence in