The Seeress of Kell
sail around the southern end of the continent and go up that river. How far back from the main channel is this Kell place?"
"A league or so from the east bank. It's at the foot of a very big mountain. I'd be careful, though. Kell's got a very peculiar reputation. The seers live there, and they don't particularly welcome strangers."
"We'll have to chance it," Barak said. "Thanks for your help, friend. We'll give Kheldar your regards when we catch up with him."
They set out downriver the following morning. There was enough of a breeze so that the sails were able to aid the oarsmen, and they made excellent time. It was shortly before noon when they heard a number of cracking detonations coming from somewhere just ahead.
"Methinks we will encounter a storm ere long," Mandorallen said.
Barak frowned. "The sky's perfectly clear, Mandorallen," he disagreed, "and that doesn't sound exactly right for thunder." He raised his voice. "Ship oars and lower the sail," he commanded his sailors, swinging his tiller over sharply so that Seabird coasted to the bank.
Hettar, Relg, and Lelldorin came up from below. "Why are we stopping?” Hettar asked.
"There's something peculiar going on just up ahead," Barak replied. "I think we'd better go have a look before we blunder into anything."
"You want me to get the horses?"
"I don't think so. It's not very far, and men on horseback are kind of conspicuous.”
"You're starting to sound like Silk."
"We’ve been together for quite a while. Unrak!" he shouted to his son, who had been riding in the bow. "We're going to go see what that noise is all about. You're in charge here until we get back."
"But, father!" the red-haired boy protested.
"That's an order, Unrak!" Barak thundered.
"Yes, sir." Unrak sounded slightly sullen.
The Seabird swung slowly around in the current and bumped gently against the brush-covered riverbank. Barak and the others jumped from the rail to the bank and started cautiously inland.
There were more of those strange detonations that did not sound exactly like thunder.
"Whatever it is, it's coming from just up ahead," Hettar said quietly.
"Let's stay out of sight until we find out what's going on," Barak said. "We've heard that kind of sound before at Rak Cthol when Belgarath and Ctuchik were fighting."
"Sorcerers, thinkest thou?" Mandorallen suggested.
"I'm not positive, but I'm beginning to have some strong suspicions in that direction. I think we'd better stay under cover until we can see just who or what is out there."
They crept to the edge of a clump of scrubby trees and looked out at an open field.
A number of black-robed figures lay smoking on the turf. Others huddled fearfully near the edge of the field.
"Murgos?" Hettar sounded startled.
"Methinks not, my Lord," Mandorallen said. "If thou wilt look closely, thou wilt see that the hoods of their cloaks are lined in diverse colors. Those colors do indicate rank among the Grolims. Thou wert wise, my Lord of Trellheim, to advise caution."
"What's making them smoke like that?" Lelldorin whispered, nervously fingering his bow.
As if in answer to his question, a black-robed and hooded figure rose at the top of a knoll and gestured almost contemptuously, A ball of incandescent fire seemed to leap from the figure's hand, sizzled across the open field, and struck one of the frightened Grolims full in the chest with another of those cracking detonations. The Grolim shrieked and, clutching at his chest, fell to the earth.
"I guess that explains the noise," Relg observed.
"Barak," Hettar said quietly, "that one on top of the knoll is a woman."
"Are you sure?"
“I’ve got very good eyes, Barak, and I can tell the difference between a man and a woman."
“So can I, but not when they're all wrapped up in cloaks like that."
“Look at her elbows the next time she raises her arms. Women's elbows are hinged differently from ours. Adara says it has to do with carrying babies."
"Did you fear to come alone, Agachak?" the woman atop the little hill demanded with contempt. Then she flicked another fireball, and another Grolim crumpled to the ground.
"I fear nothing, Zandramas," a hollow voice came from the trees at the edge of the field.
"Now we know who they are," Hettar said. "But why are they fighting?"
"Zandramas is a woman?" Lelldorin asked in amazement.
Hettar nodded. "Queen Porenn found out about it some time back. She sent word to the Alorn kings, and Cho-Hag told me."
Zandramas almost
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