Belgariad 03 - Magician's Gambit by Eddings David

Author:Eddings, David [Eddings, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-08-31T15:42:39+00:00

The Eldrak shambled out of the trees and stood in the middle of the yelping pack. It was about eight feet tall and covered with shaggy black fur. It wore an armored shirt that had been made of large scraps of chainmail tied together with thongs; over the mail, also held in place with thongs, was a rusty breastplate that appeared to have been hammered out with rocks until it was big enough to fit around the creature's massive chest. A conical steel helmet, split up the back to make it fit, covered the brute's head. In its hand the Eldrak held a huge, steelwrapped club, studded with spikes. It was the face, however, that had brought the scream to Ce'Nedra's lips. The Eldrak had virtually no nose, and its lower jaw jutted, showing two massive, protruding tusks. Its eyes were sunk in deep sockets beneath a heavy ridge of bone across its brow, and they burned with a hideous hunger.

"That's far enough, Grul," Belgarath warned the thing in a cold, deadly voice.

"'Grat come back to Grul's mountains?" the monster growled. Its voice was deep and hollow, chilling.

"It talks?" Silk gasped incredulously.

"Why are you following us, Grul?" Belgarath demanded.

The creature stared at them, its eyes like fire. "Hungry, 'Grat," it growled.

"Go hunt something else," the old man told the monster.

"Why? Horses here - men. Plenty to eat."

"But not easy food, Grul," Belgarath replied.

A hideous grin spread across Grul's face. "Fight first," he said, "then eat. Come 'Grat. Fight again."

"Grat?" Silk asked.

"He means me. He can't pronounce my name - it has to do with the shape of his jaw."

"You fought that thing?" Barak sounded stunned.

Belgarath shrugged. "I had a knife up my sleeve. When he grabbed me, I sliced him open. It wasn't much of a fight."

"Fight!" Grul roared. He hammered on his breastplate with his huge fist. "Iron," he said. "Come, 'Grat. Try to cut Grul's belly again. Now Grul wear iron - like men wear." He began to pound on the frozen ground with his steel-shod club. "Fight!" he bellowed. "Come, 'Grat. Fight!"

"Maybe if we all go after him at once, one of us might get in a lucky thrust," Barak said, eyeing the monster speculatively.

"Thy plan is flawed, my Lord," Mandorallen told him. "We must lose several companions should we come within range of that club."

Barak looked at him in astonishment. "Prudence, Mandorallen? Prudence from you?"

"It were best, I think, should I undertake this alone," the knight stated gravely. "My lance is the only weapon that can seek out the monster's life with safety."

"There's something to what he says," Hettar agreed.

"Come fight!" Grul roared, still beating on the ground with his club.

"All right," Barak agreed dubiously. "We'll distract him then - come at him from two sides to get his attention. Then Mandorallen can make his charge."

"What about the rock-wolves?" Garion asked.

"Let me try something," Durnik said. He took up a burning stick and threw it, spinning and flaring, at the nervous pack surrounding the monster. The rock-wolves yelped and shied quickly away from the tumbling brand.

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