King of The Murgos

all we know, they could be specifically looking for a group of slavers."
    Silk quietly came back to the fire. "We've got company," he said. "I saw several campfires out there." He gestured off to the northeast.
    "How close?" Garion asked quickly.
    "Probably several leagues or so. I was up on top of that ridge, and you can see for quite a distance. The fires are pretty well spread out."
    "Malloreans?" Durnik asked him.
    "Probably. I'd say that they're making a sweep through the woods.1'
    "Well, father?" Polgara asked.
    "I don't think we can make any decisions until daylight," the old man replied. "If they're just making a cursory pass, we can probably sit tight. If they're serious about it, we might have to think of something else. We'd all better get some sleep. Tomorrow might be hectic."
    Silk was up the next morning before daylight. As the rest of them rose to gather about the fire in the growing light of the dawn, he came back down the ridge. "They're coming," he announced, "and they're combing the woods inch by inch. I think we can be fairly sure that some of them will come up this ravine."
    Belgarath stood up. "One of you put that fire out," he said. "We don't want the smoke to lead them right to us."
    As Durnik quickly shoveled dirt over their cook fire, Toth stood up and peered off across the basin. Then he tapped Belgarath on the shoulder and pointed.
    "What did he say, Durnik?" the old man asked.
    The smith and his huge friend exchanged a series of somewhat obscure gestures.
    "He says that there's a bramble thicket on the other side of the pond," Durnik interpreted. "He thinks that if we go around to the back side where the cliff comes down behind it, we might be able to find a good place to hide."
    "Go look," Belgarath said shortly, "while the rest of us brush out any traces to show we've been here."
    It took about a quarter of an hour to break down their tents and to obliterate any footprints that might alert the soldiers to the fact that someone had spent the night in this secluded place. As Silk was giving the campsite a critical last scrutiny, Durnik and Toth returned. "It's adequate," the smith reported. "There's an open place in the center of the thicket. We won't leave any tracks, if we're careful getting in there with the horses."
    "What about from up there?" Garion asked him, pointing at the top of the cliff.
    "We can cover the open place over with brambles," Durnik replied. "It shouldn't take too long." He looked at Silk. ''How much time do you think we have? How close are the soldiers?"
    "Probably about an hour away."
    "That's more than enough time."
    "All right," Belgarath said, "let's do it. I'd rather hide than run, anyway."
    It was necessary to push the brambles aside to lead the horses into the center of the thicket. As Garion and Silk carefully rearranged them to conceal the game trail that had given them access to the hiding place, Durnik and Toth cut enough of the long, thorny tendrils to roof over the opening in the center. In the very midst of the task, Toth stopped suddenly, and his eyes grew distant, as if he were listening to something. His expression became oddly reluctant, and then he sighed.
    "What's the matter, Toth?" Durnik asked him.
    The giant shrugged and went back to his work.
    "Grandfather," Garion said, "if there are Grolims with the soldiers, won't they look for us with their minds?"
    "It's not very likely that any Grolims would be along, Garion," Silk told him. "This is a fairly small expedition, and the church and the army don't get along very well in Mallorea."
    "They're coming, father," Polgara told him.
    "How far are they?"
    "A mile or so."
    "Let's work our way out to the edge of the thicket," Silk suggested to Garion. "I'd sort of like to keep an eye on things." He dropped to the ground and began to worm his way among the roots of the prickly brambles.
    After a few yards, Garion began to mutter a few choice curses. No matter which way he twisted, the sharp thorns managed to find any number of sensitive spots.
    "I don't want to interrupt your devotions," Silk whispered, "but it might be a good time for a fair amount of silence."
    "Can you see anything?" Garion whispered back.
    "Not yet, but you can hear them crashing around at the mouth of the ravine. Stealth is not a Mallorean's strong point."
    Faintly from far down the ravine, Garion could hear several men talking. The sound, distorted by echoes bouncing off the twisting rock walls, came in odd bursts. Then there