King of The Murgos

long already."
    "Would you like to explain that?" Garion asked.
    "Do you remember the warning the Sendar on the road gave to you and Kheldar?"
    "About something he called the Raveners, you mean?"
    "Yes. How much did he tell you?"
    "He said that they're ghouls—creatures that feed on the dead. But that's just a ghost story, isn't it?"
    "I'm afraid not. I've heard the story from people who've actually seen them. We definitely want to get away from here. Most of the people who live in this forest—or near it— don't bury their dead. They burn them instead."
    "I've never cared much for that idea," Durnik said.
    "It has nothing to do with respect, Goodman—or the lack of it. It's done to protect the living."
    "All right," Silk said. "What are these ghouls supposed to look like? There are a lot of animals around that try to dig up dead bodies."
    "The Raveners aren't animals, Kheldar. They're men— or at least that's what they look like. Normally, they're quite torpid and only come out at night, but during a war or a pestilence, when there are a large number of bodies unburied, they go into a kind of frenzy. The smell of death attracts them and makes them wild. They'll attack anything when they're like that.
    Father," Polgara said, "is this true?"
    "It's possible," he admitted. "I've heard some unpleasant things about these woods myself. I don't usually pursue ghost stories, so I didn't bother to investigate."
    "Every country has its stories of ogres and monsters," Silk said skeptically. "Only children are frightened by them."
    "I'll strike a bargain with you, Kheldar," Sadi said. "If we make it through these woods without seeing any Raveners, you can laugh at my timidity if you like, but for the sake of the ladies, let's get away from here."
    Belgarath was frowning. "I don't altogether accept the notion of ghouls," he said, "but then, I didn't believe there was such a thing as an Eldrak either—until I saw one. We want to move along anyway, and Garion and I can talk with the Orb later."
    With Toth once more in the lead, they rode away at a gallop, still following the scarcely visible track that angled off toward the southeast. Their horses' hooves tossed up clots of the leaves lying thick-spread on the forest floor as they plunged through the misty wood. The misshapen trees seemed to gape at them as they pounded past, and, though Garion knew it was only his imagination, those grotesque, almost human features seemed somehow to have taken on expressions of malicious glee.
    "Wait!" Silk barked suddenly. "Stop!"
    They all reined in.
    "I thought I heard something—off that way," Silk said.
    They all sat straining their ears, trying to listen over the heavy panting of their horses.
    Faintly, from somewhere to the east, a scream came out of the fog.
    "There it is again," Silk said. He pulled his horse around.
    "What are you doing?" Belgarath asked him.
    "I'm going to have a look."
    But Toth had moved his horse around until it was blocking the Drasnian's path. Gravely the giant shook his head.
    "Toth, we have to know what's happening," Silk said.
    Toth shook his head again.
    "Toth," Garion said, "is what Sadi told us really true? Is there really such a thing as a Ravener?"
    Toth's face grew bleak, and he nodded.
    Another scream came out of the dim woods, seeming much closer this time. The scream was filled with horror and agony.
    "Who is it?" Ce'Nedra demanded, her voice shrill with fright. "Who's screaming?"
    "The men who attacked us," Eriond replied in a sick voice. "The ones who survived the fight. Something's running them down one by one."
    "Raveners?" Garion asked him.
    "I think so. Whatever it is, it's horrible."
    "They're coming this way," Sadi said. "Let's get away from here." He drove his heels into his horse's flanks.
    They plunged off into the gloomy wood, no longer even trying to follow the track. Their blind flight took them perhaps a half mile farther into the forest when Polgara suddenly pulled her horse to a halt. "Stop!" she commanded.
    "What is it, Pol?" Durnik asked her.
    But she pushed forward carefully to peer at a thicket half-obscured in the mist. "There's someone ahead," she whispered.
    "A Ravener?" Garion asked in a low voice.
    She concentrated for a moment. "No. It's one of the attackers. He's trying to hide."
    "How far away is he?"
    "Not far." She continued to peer into the shrouding mist. "There," she said. "He's behind that tree at the edge of the thicket—the one with the broken limb hanging