Demon Lord Of Karanda

by Eddings, David

  ‘I’d heard about that,’ Zakath said.

  ‘Anyway, he was in the process of stamping out the cult—he stamps quite well once he puts his mind to it—when someone crept into the Citadel at Riva and abducted his infant son—my great-grandson.’

  ‘No!’ Zakath exclaimed.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Belgarath continued grimly. ‘We thought that it was the cult and marched to Rheon in Drasnia, their headquarters, but it was all a clever ruse. Zandramas had abducted Prince Geran and misdirected us to Rheon. The leader of the cult turned out to be Harakan, one of the henchmen of Urvon—is this coming too fast for you?’

  Zakath’s face was startled, and his eyes had gone wide again. ‘No,’ he said, swallowing hard. ‘I think I can keep up.’

  ‘There isn’t too much more. After we discovered our mistake, we took up the abductor’s trail. We know that she’s going to Mallorea—to a “place which is no more”. That’s where the Sardion is. We have to stop her—or at least arrive there at the same time. Cyradis believes that when we all arrive at this “place which is no more”, there’s going to be one of those confrontations between the Child of Light and the Child of Dark which have been happening since before the beginning of time—except that this is going to be the last one. She’ll choose between them, and that’s supposed to be the end of it.’

  ‘I’m afraid that it’s at that point that my skepticism reasserts itself, Belgarath,’ Zakath said. ‘You don’t actually expect me to believe that these two shadowy figures that predate the world are going to arrive at this mysterious place to grapple once more, do you?’

  ‘What makes you think they’re shadowy? The spirits that are at the core of the two possible destinies infuse real people to act as their instruments during these meetings. Right now, for example, Zandramas is the Child of Dark. It used to be Torak—until Garion killed him.’

  ‘And who’s the Child of Light?’

  ‘I thought that would be obvious.’

  Zakath turned to stare incredulously into Garion’s blue eyes. ‘You?’ he gasped.

  ‘That’s what they tell me,’ Garion replied.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Kal Zakath, dread Emperor of boundless Mallorea, looked first at Belgarath, then again at Garion, and finally at Velvet. ‘Why do I feel that I’m losing control of things here?’ he asked. ‘When you people came here, you were more or less my prisoners. Now somehow I’m yours.’

  ‘We told you some things you didn’t know before, that’s all,’ Belgarath told him.

  ‘Or some things that you’ve cleverly made up.’

  ‘Why would we do that?’

  ‘I can think of any number of reasons. For the sake of argument I’ll accept your story about the abduction of Belgarion’s son, but don’t you see how that makes all your motives completely obvious? You need my aid in your search. All this mystical nonsense, and your wild story about Urgit’s parentage, could have been designed to divert me from my campaign here in Cthol Murgos and to trick me into returning with you to Mallorea. Everything you’ve done or said since you’ve come here could have been directed toward that end.’

  ‘Do you really think we’d do that?’ Garion asked him.

  ‘Belgarion, if I had a son and someone had abducted him, I’d do anything to get him back. I sympathize with your situation, but I have my own concerns, and they’re here, not in Mallorea. I’m sorry, but the more I think about this, the less of it I believe. I could not have misjudged the world so much. Demons? Prophecies? Magic? Immortal old men? It’s all been very entertaining, but I don’t believe one word of it.’

  ‘Not even what the Orb showed you about Urgit?’ Garion asked.

  ‘Please, Belgarion, don’t treat me like a child.’ Zakath’s lips were twisted into an ironic smile. ‘Isn’t it altogether possible that the poison had already crept into my mind? And isn’t it also possible that you, like any other of the charlatans who infest village fairs, used a show of mysterious lights and suggestions to make me see what you wanted me to see?’

  ‘What do you believe, Kal Zakath?’ Velvet asked him.

  ‘What I can see and touch—and precious little else.’

  ‘So great a scepticism,’ she murmured. ‘Then you do not accept one single out-of-the-ordinary thing?’

  ‘Not that I can think of, no.’

  ‘Not even the peculiar gift of the Seers at Kell? It’s been fairly well documented, you know.’

  He frowned slightly. ‘Yes,’ he admitted, ‘as a matter of fact, it has.’

  ‘How can you document a vision?’ Garion asked curiously.

  ‘The Grolims were seeking to discredit the Seers,’ Zakath replied. ‘They felt that the easiest way to do that was to have these pronouncements about the future written down and then wait to see what happened. The bureaucracy was instructed to keep records. So far, not one of the predictions of the Seers has proven false.’

  ‘Then you do believe that the Seers have the ability to know things about the past and the present and the future in ways that the rest of us might not completely understand?’ Velvet pressed.

  Zakath pursed his lips. ‘All right, Margravine,’ he said reluctantly, ‘I’ll concede that the Seers have certain abilities that haven’t been explained as yet.’

  ‘Do you believe that a Seer could lie to you?’

  ‘Good girl,’ Belgarath murmured approvingly.

  ‘No,’ Zakath replied after a moment’s thought. ‘A Seer is incapable of lying. Their truthfulness is proverbial.’

  ‘Well, then,’ she said with a dimpled smile, ‘all you need to do to find out if what we’ve told you is the truth is to send for a Seer, isn’t it?’

  ‘Liselle,’ Garion protested, ‘that could take weeks. We don’t have that much time.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I don’t think it would take all that long. If I remember correctly, Lady Polgara said that Andel summoned Cyradis when his Majesty here lay dying. I’m fairly sure we could persuade her to do it for us again.’

  ‘Well, Zakath,’ Belgarath said. ‘Will you agree to accept what Cyradis tells you as the truth?’

  The Emperor squinted at him suspiciously, searching for some kind of subterfuge. ‘You’ve manipulated me into a corner,’ he accused. He thought about it. ‘All right, Belgarath,’ he said finally. ‘I’ll accept whatever Cyradis says as the truth—if you’ll agree to do the same.’

  ‘Done then,’ Belgarath said. ‘Let’s send for Andel and get on with this.’

  As Velvet stepped out into the hall to speak with one of the guards who trailed along behind the Emperor wherever he went, Zakath leaned back in his chair. ‘I can’t believe that I’m even considering all the wild impossibilities you’ve been telling me,’ he said.

  Garion exchanged a quick look with his grandfather, and then they both laughed.

  ‘Something funny, gentlemen?’

  ‘Just a family joke, Zakath,’ Belgarath told him. ‘Garion and I have been discussing the possible and the impossible since he was about nine years old. He was even more stubborn about it than you are.’

  ‘It gets easier to accept after the first shock wears off,’ Garion added. ‘It’s sort of like swimming in very cold water. Once you get numb, it doesn’t hurt quite so much.’

  It was not long until Velvet re-entered the room with the hooded Andel at her side.

  ‘I believe you said that the Seeress of Kell is your mistress, Andel,’ Zakath said to her.

  ‘Yes, she is, your Majesty.’

  ‘Can you summon her?’

  ‘Her semblance, your Majesty, if there is need and if she will consent to come.’

  ‘I believe there’s a need, Andel. Belgarath has told me certain things that I have to have confirmed. I know that Cyradis speaks only the truth. Belgarath, on the other hand, has a more dubious reputation.’ He threw a rather sly, sidelong glance at the old man.

  Belgarath grinned at him and winked.

  ‘I will speak with my mistress, your Majesty,�
� Andel said, ‘and entreat her to send her semblance here. Should she consent, I beg of you to ask your questions quickly. The effort of reaching half around the world exhausts her, and she is not robust.’ Then the Dalasian woman kneeled reverently and lowered her head, and Garion once again heard that peculiar murmur as of many voices, followed by a long moment of silence. Again there was that same shimmer in the air; when it had cleared, the hooded and blindfolded form of Cyradis stood there.

  ‘We thank you for coming, Holy Seeress,’ Zakath said to her in an oddly respectful tone of voice. ‘My guests here have told me certain things that I am loath to believe, but I have agreed to accept whatever you can confirm.’

  ‘I will tell thee what I can, Zakath,’ she replied. ‘Some things are hidden from me, and some others may not yet be revealed.’

  ‘I understand the limitations, Cyradis. Belgarion tells me that Urgit, the King of the Murgos, is not of the blood of Taur Urgas. Is this true?’

  ‘It is,’ she replied simply. ‘King Urgit’s father was an Alorn.’

  ‘Are any of the sons of Taur Urgas still alive?’

  ‘Nay, Zakath. The line of Taur Urgas became extinct some twelve years ago when his last son was strangled in a cellar in Rak Goska upon the command of Oskatat, King Urgit’s Seneschal.’

  Zakath sighed and shook his head sadly. ‘And so it has ended,’ he said. ‘My enemy’s line passed unnoticed from this world in a dark cellar—passed so quietly that I could not even rejoice that they were gone nor curse the ones who stole them from my grasp.’

  ‘Revenge is a hollow thing, Zakath.’

  ‘It’s the only thing I’ve had for almost thirty years now.’ He sighed again, then straightened his shoulders. ‘Did Zandramas really steal Belgarion’s son?’

  ‘She did, and now she carries him to the Place Which Is No More.’

  ‘And where’s that?’

  Her face grew very still. ‘I may not reveal that,’ she replied finally, ‘but the Sardion is there.’

  ‘Can you tell me what the Sardion is?’

  ‘It is one half of the stone which was divided.’

  ‘Is it really all that important?’

  ‘In all of Angarak there is no thing of greater worth. The Grolims all know this. Urvon would give all his wealth for it. Zandramas would abandon the adoration of multitudes for it. Mengha would give his soul for it—indeed, he hath done so already in his enlistment of demons to aid him. Even Agachak, Hierarch of Rak Urga, would abandon his ascendancy in Cthol Murgos to possess it.’

  ‘How is it that a thing of such value has escaped my notice?’

  ‘Thine eyes are on worldly matters, Zakath. The Sardion is not of this world—no more than the other half of the divided stone is of this world.’

  ‘The other half?’

  ‘That which the Angaraks call Cthrag Yaska and the men of the West call the Orb of Aldur. Cthrag Sardius and Cthrag Yaska were sundered in the moment which saw the birth of the opposing necessities.’

  Zakath’s face had grown quite pale, and he clasped his hands tightly in front of him to control their trembling. ‘It’s all true, then?’ he asked in a hoarse voice.

  ‘All, Kal Zakath. All.’

  ‘Even that Belgarion and Zandramas are the Child of Light and the Child of Dark?’

  ‘Yes, they are.’ He started to ask her another question, but she raised her hand. ‘My time is short, Zakath, and I must now reveal something of greater import unto thee. Know that thy life doth approach a momentous crossroads. Put aside thy lust for power and thy hunger for revenge, as they are but childish toys. Return thou even to Mal Zeth to prepare thyself for thy part in the meeting which is to come.’

  ‘My part?’ He sounded startled.

  ‘Thy name and thy task are written in the stars.’

  ‘And what is this task?’

  ‘I will instruct thee when thou art ready to understand what it is that thou must do. First thou must cleanse thy heart of that grief and remorse which hath haunted thee.’

  His face grew still, and he sighed. ‘I’m afraid not, Cyradis,’ he said. ‘What you ask is quite impossible.’

  ‘Then thou wilt surely die before the seasons turn again. Consider what I have told thee, and consider it well, Emperor of Mallorea. I will speak with thee anon.’ And then she shimmered and vanished.

  Zakath stared at the empty spot where she had stood. His face was pale, and his jaws were set.

  ‘Well, Zakath?’ Belgarath said. ‘Are you convinced?’

  The Emperor rose from his chair and began to pace up and down. ‘This is an absolute absurdity!’ he burst out suddenly in an agitated voice.

  ‘I know,’ Belgarath replied calmly, ‘but a willingness to believe the absurd is an indication of faith. It might just be that faith is the first step in the preparation Cyradis mentioned.’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t want to believe, Belgarath,’ Zakath said, in a strangely humble tone. ‘It’s just—’

  ‘Nobody said that it was going to be easy,’ the old man told him. ‘But you’ve done things before that weren’t easy, haven’t you?’

  Zakath dropped into his chair again, his eyes lost in thought. ‘Why me?’ he said plaintively. ‘Why do I have to get involved in this?’

  Garion suddenly laughed.

  Zakath gave him a cold stare.

  ‘Sorry,’ Garion apologized, ‘but I’ve been saying “why me?” since I was about fourteen. Nobody’s ever given me a satisfactory answer, but you get used to the injustice of it after a while.’

  ‘It’s not that I’m trying to avoid any kind of responsibility, Belgarion. It’s just that I can’t see what possible help I could be. You people are going to track down Zandramas, retrieve your son, and destroy the Sardion. Isn’t that about it?’

  ‘It’s a little more complicated than that,’ Belgarath told him. ‘Destroying the Sardion is going to involve something rather cataclysmic.’

  ‘I don’t quite follow that. Can’t you just wave your hand and make it cease to exist? You are a sorcerer, after all—or so they say.’

  ‘That’s forbidden,’ Garion said automatically. ‘You can’t unmake things. That’s what Ctuchik tried to do, and he destroyed himself.’

  Zakath frowned and looked at Belgarath. ‘I thought you killed him.’

  ‘Most people do.’ The old man shrugged. ‘It adds to my reputation, so I don’t argue with them.’ He tugged at one earlobe. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I think we’re going to have to see this all the way through to the end. I’m fairly sure that the only way the Sardion can be destroyed is as a result of the final confrontation between the Child of Light and the Child of Dark.’ He paused, then sat up suddenly, his face intent. ‘I think Cyradis slipped and gave us something she hadn’t intended, though. She said that the Grolim priesthood all desperately wanted the Sardion, and she included Mengha in her list. Wouldn’t that seem to indicate that Mengha’s also a Grolim?’ He looked at Andel. ‘Is your young mistress subject to these little lapses?’

  ‘Cyradis cannot misspeak herself, Holy Belgarath,’ the healer replied. ‘A Seeress does not speak in her own voice, but in the voice of her vision.’

  ‘Then she wanted us to know that Mengha is—or was—a Grolim, and that the reason he’s raising demons is to help him in his search for the Sardion.’ He thought about it. ‘There’s another rather bleak possibility, too,’ he added. ‘It might just be that his demons are using him to get the Sardion for themselves. Maybe that’s why they’re so docile where he’s concerned. Demons by themselves are bad enough, but if the Sardion has the same power as the Orb, we definitely don’t want it to fall into their hands.’ He turned to Zakath. ‘Well?’ he said.

  ‘Well what?’

  ‘Are you with us or against us?’

  ‘Isn’t that a little blunt?’

  ‘Yes, it is—but it saves time, and time’s starting to be a factor.’

  Zakath sank lower in his chair, his expression unreadable. ‘I find
very little benefit for me in this proposed arrangement,’ he said.

  ‘You get to keep living,’ Garion reminded him. ‘Cyradis said that you’ll die before spring if you don’t take up the task she’s going to lay in front of you.’

  Zakath’s faint smile was melancholy, and the dead indifference returned to his eyes. ‘My life hasn’t really been so enjoyable that I’d consider going out of my way to prolong it, Belgarion,’ he replied.

  ‘Don’t you think you’re being just a little childish, Zakath?’ Garion snapped, his temper starting to heat up again. ‘You’re not accomplishing a single thing here in Cthol Murgos. There’s not one solitary drop of Urga blood left for you to spill, and you’ve got a situation at home that verges on disaster. Are you a King—or an Emperor—or whatever you want to call it—or are you a spoiled child? You refuse to go back to Mal Zeth just because somebody told you that you ought to. You even dig in your heels when someone assures you that you’ll die if you don’t go back. That’s not only childish, it’s irrational, and I don’t have the time to try to reason with somebody whose wits have deserted him. Well, you can huddle here in Rak Hagga and nurse all your tired old griefs and disappointments until Cyradis’ predictions catch up with you, for all I care, but Geran is my son, and I’m going to Mallorea. I’ve got work to do, and I don’t have time to coddle you.’ He had saved something up for last. ‘Besides,’ he added in an insulting, offhand tone, ‘I don’t need you anyway.’

  Zakath came to his feet, his eyes ablaze. ‘You go too far!’ he roared, slamming his fist down on the table.

  ‘Amazing,’ Garion said sarcastically. ‘You are alive after all. I thought I might have to step on your foot to get any kind of response out of you. All right, now that you’re awake, let’s fight.’

  ‘What do you mean, fight?’ Zakath demanded, his face still flushed with anger. ‘Fight about what?’