Magician's Gambit

steel helmet, split up the back to make it fit, covered the brute's head. In its hand the Eldrak held a huge, steelwrapped club, studded with spikes. It was the face, however, that had brought the scream to Ce'Nedra's lips. The Eldrak had virtually no nose, and its lower jaw jutted, showing two massive, protruding tusks. Its eyes were sunk in deep sockets beneath a heavy ridge of bone across its brow, and they burned with a hideous hunger.
    "That's far enough, Grul," Belgarath warned the thing in a cold, deadly voice.
    "'Grat come back to Grul's mountains?" the monster growled. Its voice was deep and hollow, chilling.
    "It talks?" Silk gasped incredulously.
    "Why are you following us, Grul?" Belgarath demanded.
    The creature stared at them, its eyes like fire. "Hungry, 'Grat," it growled.
    "Go hunt something else," the old man told the monster.
    "Why? Horses here - men. Plenty to eat."
    "But not easy food, Grul," Belgarath replied.
    A hideous grin spread across Grul's face. "Fight first," he said, "then eat. Come 'Grat. Fight again."
    "Grat?" Silk asked.
    "He means me. He can't pronounce my name - it has to do with the shape of his jaw."
    "You fought that thing?" Barak sounded stunned.
    Belgarath shrugged. "I had a knife up my sleeve. When he grabbed me, I sliced him open. It wasn't much of a fight."
    "Fight!" Grul roared. He hammered on his breastplate with his huge fist. "Iron," he said. "Come, 'Grat. Try to cut Grul's belly again. Now Grul wear iron - like men wear." He began to pound on the frozen ground with his steel-shod club. "Fight!" he bellowed. "Come, 'Grat. Fight!"
    "Maybe if we all go after him at once, one of us might get in a lucky thrust," Barak said, eyeing the monster speculatively.
    "Thy plan is flawed, my Lord," Mandorallen told him. "We must lose several companions should we come within range of that club."
    Barak looked at him in astonishment. "Prudence, Mandorallen? Prudence from you?"
    "It were best, I think, should I undertake this alone," the knight stated gravely. "My lance is the only weapon that can seek out the monster's life with safety."
    "There's something to what he says," Hettar agreed.
    "Come fight!" Grul roared, still beating on the ground with his club.
    "All right," Barak agreed dubiously. "We'll distract him then - come at him from two sides to get his attention. Then Mandorallen can make his charge."
    "What about the rock-wolves?" Garion asked.
    "Let me try something," Durnik said. He took up a burning stick and threw it, spinning and flaring, at the nervous pack surrounding the monster. The rock-wolves yelped and shied quickly away from the tumbling brand. "They're afraid of the fire, all right," the smith said. "I think that if we all throw at once and keep throwing, their nerve will break and they'll run."
    They all moved to the fire.
    "Now!" Durnik shouted sharply. They began throwing the blazing sticks as fast as they could. The rock-wolves yelped and dodged, and several of them screamed in pain as the tumbling firebrands singed them.
    Grul roared in fury as the pack dodged and scurried around his feet, trying to escape the sudden deluge of fire. One of the singed beasts, maddened by pain and fright, tried to leap at him. The Eldrak jumped out of its way with astonishing agility and smashed the rock-wolf to the ground with his great club.
    "He's quicker than I thought," Barak said. "We'll have to be careful."
    "They're running!" Durnik shouted, throwing another fiery stick. The pack had broken under the rain of burning brands and turned to flee howling back into the woods, leaving the infuriated Grul standing alone on the riverbank, hammering at the snow-covered ground with his spiked club. "Come fight!" he roared again. "Come fight!" He advanced one huge step and smashed his club at the snow again.
    "We'd better do whatever we're going to do now," Silk said tensely. "He's getting himself worked up. We'll have him out here on the bar with us in another minute or two."
    Mandorallen nodded grimly and turned to mount his charger.
    "Let the rest of us distract him first," Barak said. He drew his heavy sword. "Let's go!" he shouted and leaped over the fire. The others followed him, spreading out in a half circle in front of the towering Grul. Garion reached for his sword.
    "Not you," Aunt Pol snapped. "You stay here."
    "But "
    "Do as I say."
    One of Silk's daggers, skillfully thrown from several yards away, sank into Grul's shoulder while the creature was advancing on Barak