Sorceress of Darshiva

away.
    Polgara's voice came to him. "What was that?"
    "Nothing important," he replied, more than a little ashamed of himself. "Tell Durnik and the others to swing out to the west for a while. This group of soldiers is camped fairly close to the road."
    It was nearly dawn on the following night when the night breeze brought the smell of frying bacon to Garion's nostrils. He crept forward through the tall grass, but before he could get near enough to see who was cooking, he encountered his grandfather.
    "Who is it?" he asked in the manner of wolves.
    "A couple hundred soldiers," Belgarath replied, "and a whole herd of pack mules."
    "They're right on the road, aren't they?"
    "I don't think that's going to be a problem. I heard a couple of them talking. It seems that they work for Silk."
    "Silk's got his own army?" Garion asked incredulously.
    "So it would seem. I wish that little thief wouldn't keep secrets from me." Garion felt the old man's thought reaching out. "Pol, tell Durnik to send Silk up here."
    Then he looked at Garion. "Let's go back to the road. I want to have a little talk with the pride of Drasnia."
    They loped back to the road, resumed their own shapes, and intercepted Silk. Belgarath, Garion thought, showed enormous restraint. "There's a large group of soldiers wearing blue tunics just up ahead," he said in a level tone. "Would you by any chance know who they are?"
    "What are they doing here?" Silk asked with a puzzled frown. "They've been told to avoid any area where there's trouble."
    "Maybe they didn't hear you." Belgarath's tone was sarcastic.
    "It's a standing order, I'm definitely going to talk with the captain about this."
    "You've got a private army?" Garion asked the little man.
    "I don't know that I'd call it an army, exactly. Yarblek and I hired some mercenaries to guard our caravans, is all."
    "Isn't that terribly expensive?"
    "Not nearly as expensive as losing those caravans would be. Highway robbery is a cottage industry in Karanda, Let's go talk with them."
    "Why don't we?" Belgarath's tone was flat—even unfriendly.
    "You're not taking this very well, old friend."
    "Don't crowd it, Silk. I've been slinking through wet grass for five nights running. I've got burrs in my coat and a snarl in my tail that's going to take me a week to chew out, and all this time you've had an armed escort within shouting distance."
    "I didn't know they were here, Belgarath," Silk protested. "They're not supposed to be here."
    Belgarath stalked away muttering curses under his breath.
    The muleteers in the camp had begun to load their animals when Silk, with Garion walking on one side of him and Belgarath on the other, rode in. A hard-bitten looking man with a pockmarked face and thick wrists approached them and saluted.
    "Your Highness," he said to Silk, "we didn't know that you were in this part of Mallorea."
    "I move around a lot," Silk said. "Is it all right if we join you, Captain Rakos?"
    "Of course, your Highness."
    "The rest of our party will be along shortly," Silk told him. "What are we having for breakfast this morning?"
    "Bacon, fried eggs, chops, hot bread, jam—the usual, your Highness."
    "No gruel?"
    "I can have the cook mix some up for you, if you'd like, your Highness," Rakos replied.
    "No, thanks, Captain," Silk said. "I think I can live without gruel, for today anyway."
    "Would your Highness care to inspect the troops?"
    Silk made a face, then sighed. "They sort of expect it, don't they?"
    "It's good for morale, your Highness," Rakos assured him. "An uninspected trooper begins to feel unappreciated."
    "Right you are, Captain," Silk said, dismounting. "Fall them in if you would please, and I'll boost their morale."
    The captain turned and bellowed an order.
    "Excuse me," Silk said to Belgarath and Garion. "Certain formalities are the price of command.'' He smoothed down his hair with thie palm of his hand and carefully adjusted his clothing. Then he followed Captain Rakos toward die ranks of soldiers standing at attention beside the road. His manner was grand as he inspected his troops, and he rather meticulously pointed out missing buttons, unshaved faces, and boots not polished to perfection. Durnik, Polgara, and the others arrived while he was progressing down the last rank. Belgarath quickly explained the situation to them.
    When Silk returned, he had a certain self-satisfied look on his face.
    "Was all that really necessary?" Velvet asked him.
    "It's expected." He shrugged. He looked