"There will be no need, Belgarion," Cyradis assured him. "Another fate doth lie in store for Zandramas, no matter what my choice may be. Thou wilt not be required to shed her blood."
A vast wave of relief came over Garion. "Thank you, Holy Seeress,” he said. “I’ve been afraid to face up to that. It's good to know that it's not one of the tasks I’ve got ahead of me. Oh, by the way, Grandfather, my friend up here—" He tapped his forehead "—has been visiting again. Last night he told me that my final task will be to choose my successor. I don't suppose I could get you to help me, could I?"
"No, Garion, I'm afraid not. I don't think I'm supposed to, am I, Cyradis?"
"Nay, Ancient Belgarath. That task lieth on the Child of Light alone."
"I was afraid you might look at it that way," Garion said glumly.
"Oh, one thing, Garion," Belgarath said. "The one you choose has a fair chance of becoming a God. Don't choose me. I 'm not suited for the job.”
The others drifted in singly or in pairs. As each one entered, Garion considered their faces, trying to picture each of his friends as a divinity. Aunt Pol? No, that didn't seem right somehow, and that automatically excluded Durnik. He could not deprive her of her husband. Silk? That idea very nearly caused Garion to collapse in helpless laughter. Zakath? It had some possibilities. Zakath was an Angarak, and the new God would be the God of that race. Zakath was a bit unpredictable, however. Until recently, he had been obsessed with power. A sudden onset of Godhood might unsettle his mind and make him revert. Garion sighed. He'd have to think about it some more.
The servants brought in breakfast, and Ce'Nedra, obviously remembering her promise of the previous night, fixed a plate for the puppy. The plate contained eggs, sausage, and a generous dollop of jam. The she-wolf looked away with a shudder.
They deliberately avoided the subject of tomorrow's meeting as they ate. The meeting was inevitable now, so there was no point in talking about it.
Belgarath pushed back his plate with a look of contentment on his face. "Don't forget to thank the king for his hospitality," he told Garion.
And then the she-wolf came over and laid her head in the old man's lap. Belgarath looked startled. The wolf had usually avoided him. "What is it, little sister?" he asked her.
Then, to everyone's astonishment, the wolf actually laughed and spoke quite plainly in the language of humans.” Your brains have gone to sleep, old wolf," she said to Belgarath. "I thought you'd nave known me weeks ago. Does this help?" A sudden blue nimbus surrounded her. "Or this?" She shimmered, and then the wolf was gone. Standing in its place was a tawny-haired, golden-eyed woman in a brown dress.
"Mother!" Aunt Pol exclaimed.
"You're no more observant than your father, Polgara," Po-ledra said reprovingly. "Garion has known for quite some time now."
Belgarath, however, was staring in horror at the puppy.
"Oh, don't be silly, old man," his wife told him, "You know that we're mated for life. The puppy was weak and sick, so the pack had to leave him behind. I cared for him, that's all."
The smile on the face of theSeeressof Kell was gentle. "This is the Woman Who Watches, Ancient Belgarath," she said. "Now is thy company complete. Know, however, that she is ever with thee, as she has always been."
PART THREE - THE HIGH PLACES OF KORIM
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Garion had seen his grandmother—or her image-several times, but the similarity of her features to Aunt Polls seemed uncanny. There were differences, of course. Aunt Pol's hair, except for that white lock at her brow, was dark, almost black, and her eyes were a deep, deep blue. Poledra, on the other hand, had tawny hair, hovering nearly on the verge of being as blond as Velvet's, and her eyes were as golden as the eyes of a wolf. The features of the two women, however, were almost identical, as had been, the one time Garion had seen her image, the features of Aunt Pol's sister, Beldaran. Belgarath, his wife, and his daughter had withdrawn to the far side of the room, and Beldin, his tears glistening through his scowl, had placed himself squarely between them and the others in the room to guard their privacy during their reunion.
"Who is she?" Zakath asked Garion in puzzlement.
"She's my grandmother," Garion replied simply, "Belgar-ath's wife."
"I didn't know he had a wife."
"Where did you think Aunt Pol came from?"
"I guess I hadn't thought of that." Zakath looked around, noting that both Ce'Nedra and Velvet were dabbing at their eyes with wispy little handkerchiefs.
"Why is everyone so misty-eyed?" he asked.
"We all thought that she had died in childbirth when Aunt Pol and her sister Beldaran were born."
"And how long ago was that?"
"Aunt Pol is over three thousand years old." Garion shrugged.
Zakath began to tremble. "And Belgarath's been grieving all that time?-"
"Yes." Garion didn't really want to talk just then. All he wanted to do was to drink in the radiant faces of his family. The word came to him unbidden, and he suddenly remembered that bleak tune after he had first learned that Aunt Pol was not, strictly speaking, his aunt. He had felt then so terribly alone— an orphan in the most dreadful sense of the word. It had taken years, but now everything was all right. His family was nearly complete. Belgarath, Poledra, and Aunt Pol did not speak, for speech was largely unnecessary. Instead they simply sat in chairs drawn closely together gazing into each other's faces and holding hands. Garion couid only faintly begin to understand the intensity of their emotions. He did not, however, feel cut off from them, but rather seemed somehow to share their joy.
Durnik crossed the room to the rest of them. Even solid, practical Durnik's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Why don't we leave them alone?" he suggested. "It's a good time to get the packing done anyway. We have a ship to catch, you know."
"She said you knew," Ce'Nedra said accusingly to Garion when they had returned to their room.
"Yes," he admitted.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"She asked me to keep it to myself."
"That doesn't apply to your own wife, Garion."
"It doesn't?" he asked in feigned surprise. "When did they pass that rule?"
"I just made it up," she admitted. "Oh, Garion," she said then, throwing her arms about his neck and kissing him, "I do love you.”
"I certainly hope so. Shall we pack?"
The corridors of the royal palace here in Perivor were cool as Garion and Ce'Nedra returned to the central room, and the arched embrasures admitted golden morning sunlight as if even the elements were bestowing a benediction on what was, after all, a special, even sacred, day.
When they had all gathered once again, Belgarath and his wife and daughter had composed themselves enough so that they welcomed company.
"Would you like to have me introduce them, mother?" Aunt Pol asked.
"I know all of them, Polgara," Poledra replied. "I’ve been with you for quite some time, remember?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to see if you could figure it out for yourself. You disappointed me just a bit, Polgara."
"Mother," Aunt Pol protested, "not in front of the children."
They both laughed that same warm, rich laugh. "Ladies and gentlemen," Polgara said then, "this is my mother, Poledra."
They crowded around the tawny-haired legend. Silk extravagantly kissed her hand. "I suppose, Lady Poledra," he said slyly, "we should congratulate Belgarath. All things considered, I think you got the worst of that bargain. You daughter's been trying to reform him for about three eons now without much notable success."
Poledra smiled. "One has perhaps greater resources at one's command than one's daughter, Prince Kheldar." She lapsed, it seemed, unconsciously into her previous mode of speech.
"All right, Poledra," Beldin growled, stumping forward, "what really happened? After the girls were born, our Master came to us and told us that you were no longer with us. We ail thought he meant that you had died. The twins cried fo
r two straight months, and that left me to try to cope with the babies. What really happened?"
"Aldur didn't tie to you, Beldin," she replied calmly. "In a very real sense, I was no longer with you. You see, shortly after the girls were bom, Aldur and UL came to me. They said they had a great task for me but that it would involve an equally great sacrifice. I would have to leave you all behind to prepare for the task. At first, I refused, but when they explained the task to me, I had no choice but to agree. I turned my back on the Vale and went with UL to Prolgu to receive instruction. From time to time he'd relent and let me go unobserved out into the world to see how my family was doing." She looked rather firmly at Belgar-ath. "You and I have much to discuss, Old Wolf," she told him.
Belgarath winced.
"I don't suppose you could give us some enlightenment about this momentous task?" Sadi suggested mildly.
"I'm afraid not."
"I didn't think so," the eunuch murmured.
"Eriond," Poledra said then, greeting the blond-haired young man.
"Poledra," he responded. Eriond, as always, seemed unsurprised by this turn of events. Eriond, Garion had noticed, was never surprised.
"You've grown since we last met," she noted.
"I suppose I have," he agreed.
"Are you ready?"
The question sent a chili through Garion as he suddenly remembered the strange dream he had had the night before his true identity had been revealed.
There was a polite knock on the door. Dumik answered it and found an armored knight standing outside. "His Majesty hath dispatched me to advise thee and thy companions that thy ship awaiteth thee in the harbor, my Lord," the knight said.
"I'm not a—" Durnik started.
"Let it be, Durnik," Silk told him. "Sir Knight," he said to the armored man at the door, "where might we find his Majesty? We would take our leave of him and tiiank him for his many kindnesses,"
"His Majesty doth await thee and thy companions at the harbor, my Lord. He would bid ye all farewell there and see ye off on the great adventure which doth tie in store for ye."
“We will make haste then, Sir Knight,” the little man promised. "It were discourteous of us in the extreme to keep one of the paramount monarchs of the world awaiting our arrival. Thou hast performed thine appointed task in manner which does thee credit, Sir Knight, and we are all in thy debt."
The knight bowed, beaming. Then he went back down the haliway.
"Where did you ever learn to speak like that, Kheldar?" Velvet asked in some surprise.
"Ah, dear Lady," Silk replied with outrageous extravagance, "knowest thou not that the poet doth lurk beneath the most common exterior? An it please thee, I will deliver unto thee fulsome compliments upon thine every ravishing and unsurpassed part." He eyed her up and down suggestively.
"Kheldar!" she exclaimed, blushing bright red.
"That's sort of fun, you know," Silk said, referring to the archaic speech—at least Garion hoped that was what he was referring to. "Once you learn how to wrap your tongue around the 'haths,' and 'doths,' and 'forasmuches,' it has a certain ring and cadence to it, doesn't it?"
"We're surrounded by charlatans, mother." Polgara sighed.
"Belgarath," Dumik said seriously, "there's not much point in taking the horses, is there? What I mean is that we're going to be clambering over rocks and wading in surf when we get to the reef. Wouldn't the horses just be in the way?"
"You're probably right, Dumik," the old man agreed.
"I'll go down to the stables and talk with the grooms," the smith said. "The rest of you go on ahead. I'll catch up." He turned and left the room.
"An eminently practical man," Poledra observed.
"The poet, however, doth lurk beneath that most practical of exteriors, Mother—" Polgara smiled "—-and thou woutdst not believe how much pleasure I take in that aspect of him."
"I think it's time for us to get off this island, Old Wolf," Poledra said wryly. "Two more days and they'll all be sitting around composing bad poetry."
Servants arrived then to carry their packs to the harbor, and Garion and his companions trooped through the halls of the palace and out into the streets of Dal Perivor. Although the morning had dawned bright and sunny, a bank of heavy clouds had begun to build up off to the west, heavy, purple clouds that spoke eloquently of the likelihood of bad weather over Korim.
"I suppose we should have known." Silk sighed. "Once-just once—I'd like to see one of these stupendous events happen in good weather."
Garion fully understood what lay behind the apparently tight-hearted banter. None of them approached tomorrow without a certain apprehension. The pronouncement Cyradis had made at Rheon that one of them would not survive the meeting lay heavily on each of their minds, and in the fashion as old as man himself, each tried to make light of his fears. That reminded him of something, and he dropped back to have a word with the . "Cyradis," he said to the blindfolded girl, "should Zakath and I wear our armor when we get to the reef?" He plucked at the front of the doublet he had put on with some relief that morning in the hope that he might never again be obliged to encase himself in steel. "What I'nl getting at is that if the meeting is going to be entirely spiritual, there's no real need for it, is there? But if there's a possibility of some ; fighting, we should probably be prepared, shouldn't we?"
"Thou art as transparent as glass, Belgarion of Riva," she said, chiding him gently, "Thou thinkest to trick answers from me to ' questions which I am forbidden to discuss with thee. Do as it pleas-eth thee, King of Riva. Prudence, however, doth suggest that a bit of steel here and mere in thine apparel might not be inappropriate when approaching a situation where surprises might await thee."
"I wUl be guided by thee." Garion grinned. "Thy prudent advice seemeth to me the course of wisdom."
"Makestthou a rather feeble attempt at humor, Belgarion?"
"Would I do that, Holy Seeress?" He grinned at her and strode back to where Belgarath and Poledra walked hand in hand just behind Zakath and Sadi. "Grandfather, I think I just man- r aged to sneak an answer out of Cyradis," he said.
"That might be a first," the old man replied. :
"I think there might be some fighting when we get to the | reef. I asked her if Zakath and I should wear armor when we i get there. She didn't answer me directly, but she said that it might not be a bad idea—just in case."
“You might want to pass that on to the others. Let's not have them walking into something blind."
"I'll do that."
The king, along with most of his gaily clad court, awaited them on a long wharf extending out into the choppy waters of , the harbor. Despite the temperate morning, the king wore an ' ermine robe and a heavy gold crown. "Gladly do I greet thee and thy noble companions, Belgarion of Riva," he declaimed, "and in sadness do I await thy departure. Many here have pled with me that I might permit them also to speak to this matter, but in thy behalf I have steadfastly refused such permission, knowing full well the urgency of thy quest."
"Thou art a true and faithful friend, your Majesty," Garion said with genuine gratitude at being spared a morning of windy speeches. He clasped the king's hand warmly. "Know that if the Gods grant us victory on the morrow, we will return straightaway to this happy isle so that we may more fulsomely express our gratitude to thee and the members of thy court who have all treated us with such noble courtesy.” Besides, they had to come back for the horses anyway. "And now, your Majesty, our fate
awaits us. We must, with scant and niggard farewell, take ship to go forth with resolute hearts to meet that fate. An it please the Gods, we shall return anon. Good-bye, my friend."
"Fare thee well, Belgarion of Riva," the king said in a voice near to tears. "May the Gods grant thee and thy companions victory."
"Pray that it may be so." Garion turned with a rather melodramatic swirl of his cloak and led his friends up the gangway. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw Durnik pushing his way through the crowd. That would
help. As soon as the smith was on board, Garion could give the order to cast off all lines and thus avoid the necessity of more extended farewells shouted across the ship's rail.
Directly behind Durnik came die several carts carrying their packs. Their belongings were quickly transferred to the ship, and Garion went aft to speak with the captain, a grizzled old seaman with a weathered face.
Unlike western vessels, whose bare plank decks were usually holystoned into some semblance of whiteness, the quarterdeck and its surrounding railings were finished with a dark, glossy varnish, and snowy ropes hung in neat coils from highly polished- belaying pins. The effect was almost ostentatiously neat, evidence that the vessel's master took great pride in his ship. The captain himself wore a somewhat weathered blue doublet. He was, after all, in port. A jaunty velvet cap was cocked rakishly over one of his ears.
"I guess that's everything, Captain," Garion said. "We may as well cast off and get clear of the harbor before the tide turns.”
"You've been to sea before, I see, young master," the captain said approvingly. "I hope your friends have, as well. It's always a trial to have landsmen aboard. They never seem to realize that throwing up into the wind isn't a good idea." He raised his voice to an ear-splitting bellow. "Cast off all lines! Prepare to make sail!"
"Your speech doesn't seem to be that of the island, Captain," Garion observed.
"I 'd be surprised if it were, young master. I 'm from the Mel-cene Islands. About twenty years ago, there were some ugly rumors about me being circulated in some quarters back home, so I thought it might be prudent to absent myself for a while. I came here. You wouldn't believe what these people were calling a ship when I got here."
“Sort of like a seagoing castle?” Garion suggested.
"You've seen them then?"
"In another part of the world.”
"Make sail!" the captain roared at his crew. "There, young master." He grinned at Garion. "I'll have you out of earshot in no time at all. That should spare us all that drasty 'eloquence. Where was I? Oh, yes. When I got here, the ships of Perivor were so top-heavy that a good sneeze would capsize them. Would you believe it only took me five years to explain that to these people?"
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