Eddings, David - Belgariad Universe 01 - Belgarath the Sorcerer by Eddings David

Author:Eddings, David [Eddings, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 9780345403957
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 1995-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 28

I flew due west from Rak Cthol, then .-went wolf and skirted the eastern border of Maragor, climbed up through the Tolnedran Mountains to the southern end of the Vale. All in all, I was rather pleased with myself. Things had gone well at Rak Cthol.

It was early evening when I reached my tower.

"How did it go?" Beldin asked me when I joined him and Pol.

"Not bad." I said it in an offhand sort of way. Boasting's very unbecoming, after all.

"What happened, father?" Pol asked in that suspicious tone she always takes when I have been out of her sight for more than five minutes. I wish Polgara would trust me just once. Of course, that would probably stop the sun.

I shrugged.

"I went to Rak Cthol."

"Yes, I know. And--?"

"I talked to Ctuchik."

"And--?"

"I didn't kill him."

"Father, get to the point!"

"Actually, I led him down the garden path. I told him a great many things he already knew just as an excuse to get close enough to him to test his capabilities. He's actually not all that good." I sat down in my favorite chair.

"Is supper ready yet?" I asked her.

"It's still cooking. Talk, father. What really happened?"

"I slipped into his city and paid him a call in the middle of the night. I made a large issue of telling him to keep his Murgos out of the western kingdoms, and then I raised the possibility that if the Murgos irritated the Alorns too much, Riva might use the Orb against them. That can't happen, of course, but I think the notion worried Ctuchik. He seems to be very gullible in some ways. I'm sure he believes that I'm a fussy old windbag who runs around repeating the obvious. Then I raised the possibility that if somebody did something that he wasn't supposed to do, it might just let pure, random chance enter into the picture."

"And he believed you?" Beldin asked incredulously.

"He seemed to. At least he considered it enough to worry about it.

Then we discussed the Ashabine Oracles. Both Ctuchik and Urvon are trying to slip people into Torak's house at Ashaba to get copies, but I got the impression that Torak's controlling those copies rather jealously, and Zedar's doing his best to keep his brothers' spies away from Ashaba. The three of them hate each other with a passion that's almost holy."

"What's Ctuchik look like?" Beldin asked me.

"I've seen that piebald Urvon a few times, but I've never actually seen Ctuchik."

"He's tall, skinny, and he's got a long, white beard. He looks like a walking corpse."

"Peculiar."

"What is?"

"Old Burnt-face seems to be attracted to ugliness. Ctuchik sounds hideous, and that speckled Urvon's no prize. Zedar's not so bad, I guess --unless you want to take the ugliness of his soul into account."

"You're not really in a position to talk, uncle," Pol reminded him.

"You didn't have to say that, Pol. What now, Belgarath?"

I scratched at my beard.

"I think we'd better get the twins and see if we can contact the Master. We need some advice here.

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