Queen of Sorcery

clear above the treetops, and the stars are particularly bright. It's a splendid night for flying."
    "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. Did you happen to remember what you were supposed to be doing?"
    "Don't be sarcastic, father."
    "Well?"
    "There's no one in the vicinity but Arends, and most of them are asleep."
    "You're sure?"
    "Of course. There isn't a Grolim for five leagues in any direction. Did you find the ones you were looking for?"
    "They weren't hard to follow," Wolf answered. "They're staying in a cave about three leagues deeper into the forest. Another one of them died on their way back there, and a couple more probably won't live until morning. The rest of them seemed a little bitter about the way things turned out."
    "I can imagine. Did you get close enough to hear what they were saying?"
    He nodded. "There's a man in one of the villages nearby who watches the road and lets them know when somebody passes by who might be worth robbing."
    "Then they're just ordinary thieves?"
    "Not exactly. They were watching for us in particular. We'd all been described to them in rather complete detail."
    "I think I'll go talk to this villager," she said grimly. She flexed her fingers in an unpleasantly suggestive manner.
    "It's not worth the time it would take," Wolf told her, scratching thoughtfully at his beard. "All he'd be able to tell you is that some Murgo offered him gold. Grolims don't bother to explain very much to their hirelings."
    "We should attend to him, father," she insisted. "We don't want him lurking behind us, trying to buy up every brigand in Arendia to send after us."
    "After tomorrow he won't buy much of anything," Wolf replied with a short laugh. "His friends plan to lure him out into the woods in the morning and cut his throat for him - among other things."
    "Good. I'd like to know who the Grolim is, though."
    Wolf shrugged. "What difference does it make? There are dozens of them in northern Arendia, all stirnng up as much trouble as they can. They know what's coming as well as we do. We can't expect them to just sit back and let us pass."
    "Shouldn't we put a stop to it?"
    "We don't have the time," he said. "It takes forever to explain things to Arends. If we move fast enough, maybe we can slip by before the Grolims are ready."
    "And if we can't?"
    "Then we'll do it the other way. I've got to get to Zedar before he crosses into Cthol Murgos. If too many things get in my way, I'll have to be more direct."
    "You should have done that from the beginning, father. Sometimes you're too delicate about things."
    "Are you going to start that again? That's always your answer to everything, Polgara. You're forever fixing things that would fix themselves if you'd just leave them alone, and changing things when they don't have to be changed."
    "Don't be cross, father. Help me down."
    "Why not fly down?" he suggested.
    "Don't be absurd."
    Garion slipped away among the mossy trees, trembling violently as he went.
    When Aunt Pol and Mister Wolf returned to the clearing, they roused the others. "I think we'd better move on," Wolf told them. "We're a little vulnerable out here. It's safer on the highway, and I'd like to get past this particular stretch of woods."
    The dismantling of their night's encampment took less than an hour, and they started back along the woodcutter's track toward the Great West Road. Though it was still some hours before dawn, the moonbathed fog filled the night with misty luminosity, and it seemed almost as if they rode through a shining cloud that had settled among the dark trees. They reached the highway and turned south again.
    "I'd like to be a good way from here when the sun comes up," Wolf said quietly, "but we don't want to blunder into anything, so keep your eyes and ears open."
    They set off at a canter and had covered a good three leagues by the time the fog had begun to turn a pearly gray with the approach of morning. As they rounded a broad curve, Hettar suddenly raised his arm, signaling for a halt.
    "What's wrong?" Barak asked him.
    "Horses ahead," Hettar replied. "Coming this way."
    "Are you sure? I don't hear anything."
    "Forty at least," Hettar answered firmly.
    "There," Durnik said, his head cocked to one side. "Hear that?"
    Faintly they all heard a jingling clatter some distance off in the fog. "We could hide in the woods until they've passed," Lelldorin suggested.
    "It's better to stay on the road," Wolf replied.
    "Let me handle it," Silk said confidently, moving into