Magician's Gambit

Silk."
    "We know," Barak said. "How did you find us?"
    "You left the pegs pulled up at the back of my tent, and this hill's the closest cover on this side of the fair. I guessed which way you'd go, and you left a track here and there to confirm it." The Nadrak's coarse face was serious, and he showed no signs of his extended bout at the ale barrel. "We're going to have to get you out of here," he said. "Taur Urgas will be putting out patrols soon, and you're almost in his lap."
    "We must rescue our companion first," Mandorallen told him.
    "Silk? You'd better forget that. I'm afraid my old friend has switched his last pair of dice." He sighed. "I liked him, too."
    "He's not dead, is he?" Durnik's voice was almost sick.
    "Not yet," Yarblek replied, "but Taur Urgas plans to correct that when the sun comes up in the morning. I couldn't even get close enough to that pit to drop a dagger to him so he could open a vein. I'm afraid his last morning's going to be a bad one."
    "Why are you trying to help us?" Barak asked bluntly.
    "You'll have to excuse him, Yarblek," Aunt Pol said. "He's not familiar with Nadrak customs." She turned to Barak. "He invited you into his tent and offered you his ale. That makes you the same as his brother until sunrise tomorrow."
    Yarblek smiled briefly at her. "You seem to know us quite well, girl," he observed. "I never got to see you dance, did I?"
    "Perhaps another time," she replied.
    "Perhaps so." He squatted and pulled a curved dagger from beneath his overcoat. He smoothed a patch of sand with his other hand and began sketching rapidly with his dagger point. "The Murgos are going to watch me," he said, "so I can't add half a dozen or so more people to my party without having them all over me. I think the best thing would be for you to wait here until dark. I'll move out to the east and stop a league or so on up the caravan track. As soon as it gets dark, you slip around and catch up with me. We'll work something out after that."
    "Why did Taur Urgas tell you to leave?" Barak asked him.
    Yarblek looked grim. "There's going to be a large accident tomorrow. Taur Urgas will immediately send an apology to Ran Borune - something about inexperienced troops chasing a band of brigands and mistaking honest merchants for bandits. He'll offer to pay reparation, and things will all be smoothed over. Pay is a magic word when you're dealing with Tolnedrans."
    "He's going to massacre the whole camp?" Barak sounded stunned.
    "That's his plan. He wants to clean all the westerners out of Cthol Murgos and he seems to think that a few such accidents will do the job for him."
    Relg had been standing to one side, his large eyes lost in thought. Suddenly he stepped across the gully to where Yarblek's sketch was. He smoothed it out of the sand. "Can you show me exactly where this pit in which they're holding our friend is located?" he asked.
    "It won't do you any good," Yarblek told him. "It's guarded by a dozen men. Silk's got quite a reputation, and Taur Urgas doesn't want him to get away."
    "Just show me," Relg insisted.
    Yarblek shrugged. "We're here on the north side." He roughed in the fair and the caravan route. "The supply station is here." He pointed with his dagger. "The pit's just beyond it at the base of that big hill on the south side."
    "What kind of walls does it have?"
    "Solid stone."
    "Is it a natural fissure in the rock, or has it been dug out?"
    "What difference does it make?"
    "I need to know."
    "I didn't see any tool marks," Yarblek replied, "and the opening at the top is irregular. It's probably just a natural hole."
    Relg nodded. "And the hill behind it - is it rock or dirt?"
    "Mostly rock. All of stinking Cthol Murgos is mostly rock."
    Relg stood up. "Thank you," he said politely.
    "You're not going to be able to tunnel through to him, if that's what you're thinking," Yarblek said, also standing and brushing the sand off the skirts of his overcoat. "You don't have time."
    Belgarath's eyes were narrowed with thought. "Thanks, Yarblek," he said. "You've been a good friend."
    "Anything to irritate the Murgos," the Nadrak said. "I wish I could do something for Silk."
    "Don't give up on him yet."
    "There isn't much hope, I'm afraid. I'd better be going. My people will wander off if I'm not there to watch them."
    "Yarblek," Barak said, holding out his hand, "someday we'll have to get together and finish getting drunk."
    Yarblek grinned at him and shook his hand. Then he turned and caught Aunt Pol