Pawn of Prophecy

was no tie between them, after all, and he could do anything he wanted without her permission if he felt like it. He glared at her in sullen anger.
    She caught the look and returned it with a cool expression that seemed almost to challenge him. "Well?" she asked.
    "Nothing," he said shortly.

Chapter Fifteen
    THE NEXT MORNING dawned bright and crisp. The sky was a deep blue, and the sunlight was dazzling on the white mountaintops that rose behind the city. After breakfast, Mister Wolf announced that he and Aunt Pol would again meet privately that day with Fulrach and the Alorn Kings.
    "Good idea," Barak said. "Gloomy ponderings are good for kings. Unless one has regal obligations, however, it's much too fine a day to be wasted indoors." He grinned mockingly at his cousin.
    "There's a streak of cruelty in you that I hadn't suspected, Barak," King Anheg said, glancing longingly out a nearby window.
    "Do the wild boars still come down to the edges of the forest?" Barak asked.
    "In droves," Anheg replied even more disconsolately.
    "I thought I might gather a few good men and go out and see if we can thin their numbers a bit," Barak said, his grin even wider now.
    "I was almost sure you had something like that in mind," Anheg said moodily, scratching at his unkempt hair.
    "I'm doing you a service, Anheg," Barak said. "You don't want your kingdom overrun with the beasts, do you?"
    Rhodar, the fat King of Drasnia, laughed hugely. "I think he's got you, Anheg," he said.
    "He usually does," Anheg agreed sourly.
    "I gladly leave such activities to younger and leaner men," Rhodar said. He slapped his vast paunch with both hands. "I don't mind a good supper, but I'd rather not have to fight with it first. I make too good a target. The blindest boar in the world wouldn't have much trouble finding me."
    "Well, Silk," Barak said, "what do you say?"
    "You're not serious," Silk said.
    "You must go along, Prince Kheldar," Queen Porenn insisted. "Someone has to represent the honor of Drasnia in this venture."
    Silk's face looked pained.
    "You can be my champion," she said, her eyes sparkling.
    "Have you been reading Arendish epics again, your Highness?" Silk asked acidly.
    "Consider it a royal command," she said. "Some fresh air and exercise won't hurt you. You're starting to look dyspeptic."
    Silk bowed ironically. "As you wish, your Highness," he said. "I suppose that if things get out of hand I can always climb a tree."
    "How about you, Durnik?" Barak asked.
    "I don't know much about hunting, friend Barak," Durnik said doubtfully, "but I'll come along if you like."
    "My Lord?" Barak asked the Earl of Seline politely.
    "Oh, no, Lord Barak." Seline laughed. "I outgrew my enthusiasm for such sport years ago. Thanks for the invitation, however."
    "Hettar?" Barak asked the rangy Algar. Hettar glanced quickly at his father.
    "Go along, Hettar," Cho-Hag said in his soft voice. "I'm sure King Anheg will lend me a warrior to help me walk."
    "I'll do it myself, Cho-Hag," Anheg said. "I've carned heavier burdens."
    "I'll go with you then, Lord Barak," Hettar said. "And thanks for asking me." His voice was deep and resonant, but very soft, much like that of his father.
    "Well, lad?" Barak asked Garion.
    "Have you lost your wits entirely, Barak?" Aunt Pol snapped. "Didn't you get him into enough trouble yesterday?"
    That was the last straw. The sudden elation he'd felt at Barak's invitation turned to anger. Garion gritted his teeth and threw away all caution. "If Barak doesn't think I'll just be in the way, I'll be glad to go along," he announced defiantly.
    Aunt Pol stared at him, her eyes suddenly very hard.
    "Your cub is growing teeth, Pol." Mister Wolf chuckled.
    "Be still, father," Aunt Pol said, still glaring at Garion.
    "Not this time, Miss," the old man said with a hint of iron in his voice. "He's made his decision, and you're not going to humiliate him by unmaking it for him. Garion isn't a child now. You may not have noticed, but he's almost man high and filling out now. He'll soon be fifteen, Pol. You're going to have to relax your grip sometime, and now's as good a time as any to start treating him like a man."
    She looked at him for a moment.
    "Whatever you say, father," she said at last with deceptive meekness. "I'm sure we'll want to discuss this later, though-in private."
    Mister Wolf winced.
    Aunt Pol looked at Garion then. "Try to be careful, dear," she said, "and when you come back, we'll have a nice long talk, won't