– I’m not permitted to tell you. –
– That didn’t seem to bother you back in the Vale. –
– That was different. Think, Belgarath. You know the Morindim, and you know how hard it is to control one of their demons. The magician has to concentrate very hard to keep his demon from turning on him. What does that suggest to you? –
-I do something to break their concentration? –
– Is that a question? If it is, I’m not allowed to answer. –
– All right, it’s not a question. What do you think of the idea? – just speculatively? Do your rules allow you to tell me if an idea is a bad one? –
– Just speculatively? I think that’s allowed. –
– It’ll make things a little awkward, but I think we can work around it. –
I suggested any number of possible solutions, and that silent voice inside my head rejected them one after another. I started to grow more and more exotic at that point. To my horror, that bodiless voice seemed to think that my most outrageous and dangerous notion had some possibilities. You should always try to curb your creativity in situations like that.
‘Are you mad?’ Riva exclaimed when I told the Alorns what I had in mind.
‘Let’s all hope not,’ I told him. ‘There isn’t any other way out, I’m afraid. I’m going to have to do it this way – unless we want to turn around and go home, and I don’t think that’s permitted.’
‘When are you going to do this?’ Cherek asked me.
‘Just as soon as the moon comes up again. I want to pick the time. I don’t want some tattooed magician out there picking it for me.’
‘Why wait?’ Dras demanded. ‘Why not do it now?’
‘Because I’ll need light to draw the symbols in the snow. I definitely don’t want to leave anything out. Try to get some sleep. It might be quite a while before we get the chance again.’ Then I went back outside to keep watch.
It was a nervous night – day, actually, since your days and nights get turned around during the arctic winter. When I’d suggested the plan to that voice of Necessity that seemed to have taken up residence inside my head for a time, I’d been grasping at straws, since I wasn’t really sure I could pull it off. Worrying isn’t a good way to spend any extended period of time.
When I judged that the moon was about ready to come up, I went back into the cave and woke up my friends. ‘I don’t want you standing too close to me,’ I advised them. ‘There’s no point in all of us getting killed.’
‘I thought you knew what you were doing!’ Dras objected. Dras was an excitable sort of fellow despite his size, and his normally deep voice sounded a little squeaky.
‘In theory, yes,’ I told him, ‘but I’ve never tried it before, so things could go wrong. I’ll have to wait until the magicians raise their demons before I do anything, so it might be sort of touch-and-go for a while. Just be ready to run. Let’s go.’
We came out of the cave, and I looked off toward the east. The pale glow along the horizon told me that it was very close to moon-rise, so we struck off in that direction, moving steadily toward the waiting Morindim. We topped a rise just as they were waking up. It’s an eerie thing to watch Morindim getting up in the winter. It resembles nothing quite so much as a suddenly animated graveyard, since they customarily bury themselves in snow before they go to sleep. The snow’s cold, of course, but the outside air is much colder. It’s a chilling thing to see them rising up out of the snow like men climbing up out of their graves.
The magicians probably hadn’t gotten any more sleep than I had. They had their own preparations to make. Each of them had stamped out the symbols in the snow and taken up positions inside those protective designs. They were already muttering the incantations when we came over the hill. And let me tell you, those Morind magicians are very careful not to speak too clearly when summoning demons. Those incantations are what you might call trade secrets, and the magicians guard them very jealously.
I decided that the hilltop was probably as good a place as any to make my stand, so I trampled my own design into the snow and stepped inside.
It was about then that several of the tribesmen in the valley below saw us, and there was a lot of pointing and shouting. Then the magicians began hurling challenges at me. That’s a customary thing among primitive people. They spend more time boasting and threatening each other than they do actually fighting. I didn’t waste my breath shouting back.
Then the demons started to appear. They were of varying sizes, depending on the skills of the magicians who summoned them. Some were no bigger than imps, and some were as big as houses. They were all hideous, of course, but that was to be expected. The one thing they all had in common was the fact that they steamed in the cold. They come from a much hotter climate, you realize.
I waited. Then, when I judged that all but a few of the demons were present, I began to gather in my Will. It was surprisingly easy, since I was bent on creating an illusion rather than actually doing anything in a physical sense. I didn’t speak the Word yet, though. I didn’t want to spring my surprise on them until the last possible moment.
You have no idea of how hard it is to keep your Will buttoned in like that. I could feel my hair rising as if it wanted to stand on end, and I felt as if I were about to explode.
Then somewhere in that mob below us somebody blew a horn. I gather that was supposed to be a signal of some kind. All the magicians began barking commands, and the howling demons started toward us, the imps skittering across the snow and the big ones lumbering up the hill like burning garbage scows, melting down the snowdrifts as they came.
‘Behold!’ I thundered – augmenting my voice, I’ll admit – and I pointed dramatically toward the south. I didn’t want the moon or the northern lights lessening the impact of what I was going to do.
Then, posing like a charlatan in a country fair, I spoke the words that released my Will in a voice they probably heard in Kell.
‘Rise up!’ I roared – and the sun came up.
Oh, come now. You know better than that. Nobody can order the sun around. Don’t be so gullible.
It looked like the sun, though. It was a very good illusion, even if I do say so myself.
The Morindim were thunderstruck, to say the very least. My clever fakery quite literally bowled them over. Would you believe that a sizeable number of them actually fainted?
The demons faltered, and most of them sort of shimmered like heat waves rising off hot rocks as they resumed their real forms. The shimmering ones turned around and went back to eat the magicians who’d enslaved them. That created a sort of generalized panic down in the valley. I expect that some of those Morindim were still running a year later.
There were still eight or ten of the magicians who’d kept their grip on their slaves though, and those fiery demons kept plowing up through the snow toward me. I’ll admit that I’d desperately hoped that the panic my imitation sun would cause would be universal. I didn’t want
