Sorceress of Darshiva

are demons involved."
    "Demons?" Varana said skeptically. "Oh, come now, Porenn."
    "That's what Belgarath reports."
    "Belgarath has a warped sense of humor, sometimes," Varana scoffed. "He was probably just joking. There's no such thing as a demon."
    "You're wrong, Varana," King Drosta said with uncharacteristic soberness. "I saw one once—up in Morindland when I was a boy.''
    "What did it look like?" Varana did not sound convinced.
    Drosta shuddered. "You really don't want to know."
    "At any rate," Porenn said, "Zakath has ordered the bulk of his army back from Cthol Murgos to put down this uprising. It won't be very long until he floods the entirety of Karanda with troops, and that's the area where our friends are. That's why I've called this meeting. What are we going to do about it?"
    Lelldorin of Wildantor came to his feet. "We'll need fast horses," he said to Hettar.
    "Why?" Hettar asked.
    "To get to their aid, of course." The young Asturian's eyes were flashing with excitement.
    "Uh—Lelldorin," Barak said gently, "the Sea of the East is between here and Mallorea."
    "Oh," Lelldorin said, looking slightly abashed. "I didn't know that. We'll need a boat, too, won't we?"
    Barak and Hettar exchanged a long look. "Ship," Barak corrected absently.
    "What?"
    "Never mind, Lelldorin," Barak sighed.
    "We can't," King Anheg said flatly. "Even if we could get through, we'd destroy Garion's chances of winning in the fight with the Child of Dark. That's what the Seeress told us at Rheon, remember?"
    "But this is different," Lelldorin protested, tears standing in his eyes.
    "No," Anheg said. "It's not. This is exactly what we were warned against. We can't go near them until this is over.''
    "But—"
    "Lelldorin," Anheg said. "I want to go as much as you do, but we can't. Would Garion thank us if we were responsible for the loss of his son?"
    Mandorallen rose to his feet and began to pace up and down, his armor clinking. "Methinks thy reasoning is aright, your Majesty," he said to Anheg. "We may not join with our friends, lest our presence imperil their quest, and we would all give up our lives to prevent that. We may, however, journey straightaway to Mallorea and, without going near them, place ourselves between them and the hordes of Kal Zakath. We can thereby bring the unfriendly advance of the Malloreans to a precipitous halt and thus allow Garion to escape."
    Barak stared at the great knight, whose face shone with unthinking zeal. Then he groaned and buried his face in his hands.
    "There, there," Hettar murmured, patting the big man sympathetically on the shoulder.
    King Fulrach nibbed at his beard. "Why does it seem that we’ve done this before?" he asked. "It's the same as last time. We have to create a diversion to help our friends get through. Any ideas?"
    "Invade Mallorea," Drosta said eagerly.
    "Sack Zakath's coastline," Anheg said just as eagerly.
    Porenn sighed.
    "We could invade Cthol Murgos," Cho-Hag suggested thoughtfully.
    "Yes!" Hettar agreed fiercely.
    Cho-Hag held up his hand. "Only as a ruse, my son," he said. "Zakath has committed forces to the conquest of Cthol Murgos. If the armies of the West moved into that region, he'd almost be obliged to try to counter us, wouldn't he?"
    Varana slid lower in his chair. "It's got possibilities," he admitted, "but it's already autumn, and the mountains of Cthol Murgos are brutal in the winter. It's a bad time to move troops around down there. An army can't move very fast on frozen feet. I think we might be able to accomplish the same thing by diplomacy—without risking a single toe.''
    "Trust a Tolnedran to be devious," Anheg growled.
    "Do you like freezing, Anheg?" Varana asked.
    Anheg shrugged. "It's something to do in the wintertime," he said.
    Varana rolled his eyes ceilingward. "Alorns," he said.
    "All right," Anheg said by way of apology. "I was only joking. What's this brilliantly devious plan of yours?"
    Varana looked across the room at Javelin. "How good is the Mallorean intelligence service, Margrave Khendon?" he asked bluntly.
    Javelin rose to his feet, straightening his pearl-gray doublet. "By himself, Brador is very good, your Imperial Majesty," he replied. "His people are sometimes awkward and obvious, but he has a lot of them. He has unlimited money to work with." He cast a slightly reproachful glance at Queen Porenn.
    "Be nice, Khendon," she murmured. "I'm on a tight budget."
    "Yes, ma'am." He bowed with a faint smile, then straightened and spoke