Queen of Sorcery

quickly forgotten.
    They talked then of other things, standing close together beside the shattered wall with their dark cloaks drawn tightly about them.
    Shortly before noon Garion heard the muffled sound of horses' hooves somewhere out in the forest. A few minutes later, Hettar materialized out of the fog with a dozen wild-looking horses trailing after him. The tall Algar wore a short, fleece-lined leather cape. His boots were mudspattered and his clothes travel-stained, but otherwise he seemed unaffected by his two weeks in the saddle.
    "Garion," he said gravely by way of greeting and Garion and Lelldorin stepped out to meet him.
    "We've been waiting for you," Garion told him and introduced Lelldorin. "We'll show you where the others are."
    Hettar nodded and followed the two young men through the ruins to the tower where Mister Wolf and the others were waiting. "Snow in the mountains," the Algar remarked laconically by way of explanation as he swung down from his horse. "It delayed me a bit." He pulled his hood back from his shaved head and shook out his long, black scalp lock.
    "No harm's been done," Mister Wolf replied. "Come inside to the fire and have something to eat. We've got a lot to talk about."
    Hettar looked at the horses, his tan, weathered face growing strangely blank as if he were concentrating. The horses all looked back at him, their eyes alert and their ears pointed sharply forward. Then they turned and picked their way off among the trees.
    "Won't they stray?" Durnik wanted to know.
    "No," Hettar answered. "I asked them not to."
    Durnik looked puzzled, but he let it pass.
    They all went into the tower and sat near the fireplace. Aunt Pol cut dark bread and pale, yellow cheese for them while Durnik put more wood on the fire.
    "Cho-Hag sent word to the Clan-Chiefs," Hettar reported, pulling off his cape. He wore a black, long-sleeved horsehide jacket with steel discs riveted to it to form a kind of flexible armor. "They're gathering at the Stronghold for council." He unbelted the curved sabre he wore, laid it to one side and sat near the fire to eat.
    Wolf nodded. "Is anyone trying to get through to Prolgu?"
    "I sent a troop of my own men to the Gorim before I left," Hettar responded. "They'll get through if anyone can."
    "I hope so," Wolf stated. "The Gorim's an old friend of mine, and I'll need his help before all this is finished."
    "Aren't your people afraid of the Land of the Ulgos?" Lelldorin inquired politely. "I've heard that there are monsters there that feed on the flesh of men."
    Hettar shrugged. "They stay in their lairs in the wintertime. Besides, they're seldom brave enough to attack a full troop of mounted men." He looked over at Mister Wolf. "Southern Sendaria's crawling with Murgos. Or did you know that?"
    "I could have guessed," Wolf replied. "Did they seem to be looking for anything in particular?"
    "I don't talk with Murgos," Hettar said shortly. His hooked nose and fierce eyes made him look at that moment like a hawk about to swoop down to the kill.
    "I'm surprised you weren't delayed even more," Silk bantered. "The whole world knows how you feel about Murgos."
    "I indulged myself once," Hettar admitted. "I met two of them alone on the highway. It didn't take very long."
    "Two less to worry about, then," Barak grunted with approval.
    "I think it's time for some plain talk," Mister Wolf said, brushing crumbs off the front of his tunic. "Most of you have some notion of what we're doing, but I don't want anybody blundering into something by accident. We're after a man named Zedar. He used to be one of my Master's disciples - then he went over to Torak. Early last fall he somehow slipped into the throne room at Riva and stole the Orb of Aldur. We're going to chase him down and get it back."
    "Isn't he a sorcerer too?" Barak asked, tugging absently at a thick red braid.
    "That's not the term we use," Wolf replied, "but yes, he does have a certain amount of that kind of power. We all did - me, Beltira and Belkira, Belzedar - all the rest of us. That's one of the things I wanted to warn you about."
    "You all seem to have the same sort of names," Silk noticed.
    "Our Master changed our names when he took us as disciples. It was a simple change, but it meant a great deal to us."
    "Wouldn't that mean that your original name was Garath?" Silk asked, his ferret eyes narrowing shrewdly.
    Mister Wolf looked startled and then laughed. "I haven't heard that name for thousands of years. I've been