"Stop acting like an old woman, Fulrach," Anheg said bluntly. Fulrach's face grew very cold. "I don't know that I care for that last remark, Anheg," he said stiffly. Then he turned on his heel and stalked away.

"What's got into him?" the King of Cherek asked innocently.

"Anheg, if you don't learn how to keep your mouth shut, we might have to muzzle you," Rhodar told him.

"I thought we came here to fight Angaraks," Brand said mildly. "Have the rules been changed?"

The irritable bickering among her friends worried Ce'Nedra, and she went to Polgara with her concern.

"It's nothing all that important, dear," the lady replied as she scrubbed Errand's neck. "The upcoming battle's got them a bit edgy, that's all."

"But they're men," Ce'Nedra protested, "trained warriors."

"What does that have to do with it?" Polgara asked, reaching for a towel.

The princess couldn't think of an answer.

The portage at the rapids went smoothly, and the ships reentered the river below the tumbling stretch of seething white-water by late afternoon. Ce'Nedra by now was virtually ill as a result of the almost unbearable tension. All the months she had spent in raising the army and marching eastward were about to come to a final culmination. Within two days, they would hurl themselves at the walls of Thull Mardu. Was it the right time? Was it, in fact, really necessary? Couldn't they just portage around the city and avoid the battle entirely? Although the Alorn kings had assured her that the city had to be neutralized, Ce'Nedra's doubts grew with each mile. What if this was a mistake?

The princess worried and fretted and worried some more as she stood at the prow of Barak's ship, staring at the broad river winding through the Thullish grasslands.

Finally, just at evening of the second day after the portage, Hettar galloped back and reined in his horse on the north bank of the river. He motioned with his arm, and Barak swung his tiller over, angling the big ship in closer to the bank.

"The city's about two leagues ahead," the tall Algar called across the intervening space. "If you get too much closer, they'll see you from the walls."

"This is close enough, then," Rhodar decided. "Pass the word to anchor the ships. We'll wait here until dark."

Barak nodded and made a quick gesture to a waiting sailor. The man quickly raised a tall pole with a bit of bright red bunting nailed to its tip, and the fleet behind them slowed in answer to the signal. There was a creaking of windlasses as the anchors settled to the bottom, and the ships rocked and swung sluggishly in the current.

"I still don't like this part," Anheg growled morosely. "Too many things can go wrong in the dark."

"They'll go wrong for them, too," Brand told him.

"We've been over it a dozen times, Anheg," Rhodar said. "We all agreed that it's the best plan."