Guardians of the West

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"I'm sorry, Kail," Garion told his friend as they sat together in Garion's study with the morning sun streaming golden through the window, "but I have to have you and your brothers here at Riva. I'm taking most of our forces with me, and someone has to stay here to defend the city in case some of the cultists' ships slip around behind us."Kail's face was angry. "That's not the real reason is it?" he accused.

"Not entirely, no," Garion admitted. "I know how much you all loved your father and I know how much you want revenge on the people responsible for his murder."

"Isn't that only natural?"

"Of course it is, but people caught up in those feelings don't think clearly. They get rash and do things that put them in danger. Your family has shed enough blood already -first your brother Olban, then Arell, and now your father- so I'm not taking any chances with the rest of you."

Kail stood up, his face red with suppressed anger. "Does your Majesty have any further instructions for me?" he asked stay.

Garion sighed. "No, Kail," he said, "not at the moment. You know what to do here."

"Yes, your Majesty." Kail bowed curtly, turned and left the room.

Belgarath came into Garion's study through the other door.

"He didn't like it," Garion said.

"I didn't think he would." The old man shrugged, scratching at one bearded cheek. "But he's too important here in the Citadel for us to be risking his life. He'll be angry for a while, but he'll get over it."

"Is Aunt Pol staying behind, too?"

Belgarath made a face. "No. She insists on going. At least the other ladies have sense enough to realize that a battlefield is no place for a woman! I think we ought to leave Errand here, too. He has no sense of personal danger, and that's not a good trait when the fighting starts. You'd better finish here. The morning tide's turning, and we're almost ready to start."

As the Seabird moved out of the harbor that sunny morning with a flotilla of stout Rivan ships following her, Garion and the others gathered in the spacious, low-beamed aft cabin, poring over maps and discussing strategy.

"The inlet that runs up to Jarviksholm is very narrow," Anheg advised them, "and it's got more twists and turns to it than a Tolnedran trade agreement. It's going to slow us to a crawl."

"And then those catapults on top of the cliffs will sink half the fleet," Barak added gloomily.

"Is there any way we can come to the city from behind?" Hettar asked.

"There's a road coming up from Halberg," Barak replied, "but it goes through several passes fifteen leagues or so to the south of the city. Those passes are ideal for ambushes."

General Brendig had been studying the map. "What's this terrain like?" he asked, pointing at a spot on the south side of the mouth of the inlet.

"Rough," Barak said, "and steep."

"That's a description of most of Cherek," Silk observed.

"Is it passable?" Brendig persisted.

"Oh, you could climb it," Barak said, "but you'd be in plain view of the catapultists up on the cliffs. There's be a whole army waiting for you by the time you got to the top."

"Not if you did it at night," Brendig said.

"At night?" the big man scoffed. "Brendig, do you really want to take up nighttime mountain climbing at your age?"

Brendig shrugged. "If it's the only way to get there."

Mandorallen had also been studying the map. "Prithee, my Lord," he said to Barak, "is this slope to the north also gentle enough to afford access to the clifftop?"

Barak shook his head. "It's a sheer face."

"Then we must needs seek other means to neutralize the catapults on that side." The knight thought a moment, then he smiled. "We have the means at our immediate disposal," he declared.

"I'd be interested to know what they are," King Fulrach said to him.

"It is the simplest possible solution, your Majesty," Mandorallen beamed. "To convey siege engines up the south slope would be tiresome -particularly during the hours of darkness. It would, moreover, be totally unnecessary, since the means of destroying the engines on the north side are already in place."

"I don't quite follow what you're suggesting," Garion admitted.

"I do," Hettar said. "All we have to do is climb the south slope at night, capture the catapults on top and then start lobbing boulders at the engines across the inlet."

"And once you distract those people, I can sweep up the inlet with fireboats and burn out the shipyards," Anheg added.

"But doesn't that still leave the city intact?" King Fulrach asked dubiously.

Garion stood up and began to pace up and down, thinking hard. "Once we start throwing rocks back and forth across the inlet and the fireboats start moving up toward the yards, it's going to attract quite a bit of attention from the city, wouldn't you say?"

"I could almost guarantee that," Brendig replied.

"Then wouldn't that be a perfect time to mount an attack on the landward side of the town? Everybody's going to be lining the front wall. The backside will be only lightly defended. If we strike fast enough, we could be inside before most of the defenders knew we were coming."

"Very good, Belgarion," King Cho-Hag murmured.

"It's all going to have to be carefully timed, though," Barak said thoughtfully. "We'll have to work out a way to pass signals back and forth."

"That's not really a problem, Barak," Aunt Pol told the big man. "We can take care of that."

"You know," Anheg said, "I think it might work. If we get lucky, we could take Jarviksholm in a single day.

"I never cared much for long sieges anyway," Silk noted, carefully polishing one of his rings.

Two days later they found the Cherek fleet standing at anchor off the Halberg straits, a narrow passage leading through a cluster of small, rocky islets jutting up out of the coastal waters of the west coast of the Cherek peninsula.

The islets were topped with scrubby trees and they stood out, green against the snow-fields covering the higher mountains lying inland. Garion stood at the rail of the Seabird, drinking in the beauty of that wild coast. A light step behind him and a familiar fragrance announced his Aunt Pol's approach.

"It's lovely, isn't it, Garion?" she said.

"Breathtaking," he agreed.

"It always seems this way." she mused. "Somehow it's when you're on your way to something very ugly that you come across these glimpses of beauty." She looked at him gravely. "You will be careful at Jarviksholm, won't you?"