‘This young fellow is your responsibility,’ Barak told him, pointing at Geran. ‘I’ll be very cross if you let anything happen to him.’
Unrak bowed to Ce’Nedra. ‘Your Majesty,’ he greeted her, ‘you’re looking well.’
‘Thank you, Unrak,’ she smiled.
‘May I?’ Unrak asked, holding out his arms toward Geran. ‘His Highness and I should probably get to know each other.’
‘Of course,’ Ce’Nedra said, giving her son to the youthful Cherek.
‘We’ve missed you, your Highness,’ Unrak grinned at the little boy he held in his arms. ‘The next time you plan one of these extended trips, you should let us know. We were a little worried.’
Geran giggled. Then he reached out and tugged on Unrak’s scarcely fledged red beard.
Unrak winced.
Ce’Nedra embraced each of their old friends in turn, bestowing kisses at random. Mandorallen, of course, was weeping openly, too choked up to even deliver a flowery greeting, and Lelldorin was in virtually the same condition. Relg, peculiarly, did not even shrink from the Rivan Queen’s embrace. Relg, it appeared, had undergone certain philosophical modifications during the years of his marriage to Taiba.
‘There seem to be a few strangers here,’ Hettar noted in his quiet voice.
Silk smacked his forehead with an open palm. ‘How remiss of me,’ he said. ‘How could I have been so forgetful? This is Lady Poledra, Belgarath’s wife and Polgara’s mother. The rumors about her demise appear to have been exaggerations.’
‘Will you be serious?’ Belgarath muttered as their friends greeted the tawny-haired woman with a certain awe.
‘Not a chance,’ Silk said rogueishly. ‘I’m having too much fun with this, and I’m just starting to get warmed up. Please, gentlemen,’ he said to their friends, ‘let me get on with this. Otherwise the introductions are likely to last until midnight. This is Sadi. You should remember him – Chief Eunuch in the palace of Queen Salmissra.’
‘Formerly Chief Eunuch, Kheldar,’ Sadi corrected. ‘My Lords,’ he bowed.
‘Your Excellency,’ Hettar replied. ‘I’m sure there’ll be all sorts of explanations later.’
‘You all remember Cyradis, of course,’ Silk went on, ‘the Holy Seeress of Kell. She’s a little tired just now. She had to make a fairly important decision about noon today.’
‘Where’s that big fellow who was with you at Rheon, Cyradis?’ Barak asked her.
‘Alas, my Lord of Trellheim,’ she said. ‘My guide and protector gave up his life to insure our success.’
‘I’m deeply sorry,’ Barak said simply.
‘And this, of course,’ Silk said in an off-hand voice, ‘is his Imperial Majesty, Kal Zakath of Mallorea. He’s been rather helpful from time to time.’
Garion’s friends looked at Zakath warily, their eyes filled with surprise.
‘I’d assume that we can set aside certain unpleasantnesses from the past,’ Zakath said urbanely. ‘Garion and I have more or less resolved our differences.’
‘It pleaseth me, your Imperial Majesty,’ Mandorallen said with a creaking bow, ‘to have lived to see near-universal peace restored to all the world.’
‘Thy reputation, the marvel of the known world, hath preceeded thee. My Lord of Mandor,’ Zakath replied in an almost perfect Mimbrate dialect. ‘I do perceive now, however, that reputation is but a poor shade of the stupendous reality.’
Mandorallen beamed.
‘You’ll do just fine,’ Hettar murmured to Zakath.
Zakath grinned at him. Then he looked at Barak. ‘The next time you see Anheg, my Lord of Trellheim, tell him that I’m still going to send him a bill for all those ships of mine he sank in the Sea of the East after Thull Mardu. I think some reparations might be in order.’
‘I wish you all the luck in the world, your Majesty,’ Barak grinned, ‘but I think you’ll find that Anheg’s very reluctant to open the doors of his treasury.’
‘Never mind,’ Garion said quietly to Lelldorin, who had drawn himself up, pale-face and furious at the mention of Zakath’s name.
‘But—’
‘It wasn’t his fault,’ Garion said. ‘Your cousin was killed in a battle. Those things happen, and there’s no point in holding grudges. That’s what’s kept things stirred up in Arendia for the last twenty-five hundred years.’
‘And I’m sure you all recognize Eriond – formerly Errand,’ Silk said once again in a deliberately off-hand manner, ‘the new God of Angarak.’
‘The what?’ Barak exclaimed.
‘You really should try to keep abreast of things, my dear Barak,’ Silk said, buffing his nails on the front of his tunic.
‘Silk,’ Eriond said reprovingly.
‘I’m sorry,’ Silk grinned. ‘I couldn’t resist. Can you find it in Your heart to forgive me, your Divinityship?’ He frowned. ‘That’s really very cumbersome, you know. What is the correct form of address?’
‘How about just Eriond?’
Relg had gone deathly pale and he almost instinctively fell to his knees.
‘Please don’t do that, Relg,’ Eriond told him. ‘After all, you’ve known me since I was just a little boy, haven’t you?’
‘But—’
‘Stand up, Relg,’ Eriond said, helping the Ulgo to his feet. ‘Oh, my Father sends his best, by the way.’
Relg looked awed.
‘Oh well,’ Silk said wryly, ‘we might as well get it out into the open, I suppose. Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘I’m sure you all remember the Margravine Liselle, my fiancée.’
‘Your fiancée?’ Barak exclaimed in amazement.
‘We all have to settle down sometime,’ Silk shrugged.
They gathered around to congratulate him. Velvet, however, did not look pleased.
‘Was something the matter, dear?’ Silk asked her, all innocence.
‘Don’t you think you’ve forgotten something, Kheldar?’ she asked acidly.
‘Not that I recall.’
‘You neglected to ask me about this first.’
‘Really? Did I actually forget that? You weren’t planning to refuse, were you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Well, then—’
‘You haven’t heard the last of this, Kheldar,’ she said ominously.
‘I seem to be getting off to a bad start here,’ he observed.
‘Very bad,’ she agreed.
They built a large bonfire in the amphitheater not too far from the huge carcass of the dragon. Durnik had rather shamefacedly translocated a sizable stack of driftwood in from various beaches here and there on the reef. Garion looked critically at the stack. ‘I seem to remember a number of very wet evenings when Eriond and I spent hours looking for dry firewood,’ he said to his old friend.
‘This is sort of a special occasion, Garion,’ Durnik explained apologetically. ‘Besides, if you’d have wanted it done this way, you could have done it yourself, couldn’t you?’
Garion stared at him, then he suddenly laughed. ‘Yes, Durnik,’ he admitted, ‘I suppose I could have at that. I don’t know that we have to tell Eriond, though.’
‘Do you really think he doesn’t know?’
They talked until quite late. A great deal had happened since they had last seen each other, and they all had a lot of catching up to do. Finally, one by one, they drifted off to sleep.
It was still a few hours before dawn when Garion came suddenly awake.
It was not a sound had awakened him, but a light. It was a single beam of intense blue that bathed the amphitheater in its radiance, and it was soon joined by others that streamed down from the night sky in great glowing columns, red and yellow and green and shades for which there were no names. The columns stood in a semi-circle not far from the edge of the water, and there in the center of their rainbow-hued light, the pristine white albatross hovered on seraphlike wings. The incandescent forms Garion had seen before at Cthol Mishrak began to appear in the columns of pure light. Aldur a
nd Mara, Issa and Nedra, Chaldan and Belar, the Gods stood, their faces filled with the joy of welcome.
‘It’s time,’ Poledra sighed from where she sat enfolded in Belgarath’s arms. She firmly took his arms from about her shoulders and rose to her feet.
‘No,’ Belgarath protested in an anguished tone, his eyes filled with tears. ‘There’s time yet.’
‘You knew this was going to happen, Old Wolf,’ she said gently. ‘It has to be this way, you know.’
‘I’m not going to lose you twice,’ he declared. He also rose. ‘There’s no longer any meaning to any of this.’ He looked at his daughter. ‘Pol,’ he said.
‘Yes, father,’ she replied, rising to her feet with Durnik at her side.
‘You’ll have to look after things now. Beldin and Durnik and the twins will help you.’
‘Will you orphan me in one single stroke, father?’ Her voice was throbbing with unshed tears.
‘You’re strong enough to bear it, Pol. Your mother and I are not displeased with you. Be well.’
‘Don’t be foolish, Belgarath,’ Poledra said firmly.
‘I’m not. I won’t live without you again.’
‘It’s not permitted.’
‘It can’t be prevented. Not even our Master can prevent me now. You won’t leave alone, Poledra. I’m going with you.’ He put his arms about his wife’s shoulders and looked deeply into her golden eyes. ‘It’s better this way.’
‘As you decide, my husband,’ she said finally. ‘We must act now, however, before UL arrives. He can prevent it, no matter how much you bend your will to its accomplishment.’
Then Eriond was there. ‘Have you really considered this, Belgarath?’ He said.
‘Many times in the last three thousand years, yes. I had to wait for Garion, though. Now he’s here, and there’s nothing to hold me any longer.’
‘What would make you change your mind?’
‘Nothing. I won’t be separated from her again.’
‘Then I’ll have to see to that, I suppose.’
‘That’s forbidden, Eriond,’ Poledra objected. ‘I agreed to this when my task was laid upon me.’
‘Agreements are always subject to renegotiation, Poledra,’ he said. ‘Besides, my Father and my brothers neglected to advise me of Their decision, so I’ll have to deal with the situation without Their advice.’
‘You can’t defy your father’s will,’ she objected.
‘But I don’t know my father’s will as yet. I’ll apologize, of course. I’m sure he won’t be too angry with me, and no one stays angry forever – not even my father – and no decision is irrevocable. If necessary, I’ll remind him of the change of heart he had at Prolgu when Gorim persuaded him to relent.’
‘That sounds awfully familiar,’ Barak murmured to Hettar. ‘It looks as if the new God of Angarak has spent a little too much time with our Prince Kheldar.’
‘It might be contagious,’ Hettar agreed.
An impossible hope had sprung up in Garion’s heart.
‘May I borrow the Orb again, Garion’ Eriond asked politely.
‘Of course.’ Garion almost snatched the Orb from the pommel of the sword and offered it to the youthful God.
Eriond took the glowing jewel and approached Belgarath and his wife. Then He reached out with it and gently touched it to each of their foreheads. Garion, knowing that the touch of the jewel meant death, leaped forward with a strangled cry, but it was too late.
Belgarath and Poledra began to glow with a blue nimbus as they looked deeply into each others’ eyes. Then Eriond handed the Orb back to the Rivan King.
‘Won’t you get into trouble about this?’ Garion asked.
‘It’s all right, Garion,’ Eriond assured him. ‘I’m probably going to have to break all kinds of rules in the next several years, so I might as well get into practice.’
A deep organ note came from the incandescent columns of light at the edge of the water. Garion looked quickly at the assembled Gods and saw that the albatross had become so intensely bright that he could not bear to look at it.
And then the albatross was gone, and the Father of the Gods stood where it had hovered, and he was surrounded by His sons. ‘Very well done, my Son,’ UL said.
‘It took me a little while to perceive what thou hadst in thy mind, Father,’ Eriond apologized. ‘I’m sorry to have been so dense.’
‘Thou art unaccustomed to such things, my Son,’ UL forgave him. ‘Thy use of thy Brother’s Orb in this was unanticipated, however, and most ingenious.’ A faint smile touched the Eternal Face. ‘Even had I been inclined not to relent, that alone would have forestalled me.’
‘I thought such might be the case, Father.’
‘I pray thee, Poledra,’ UL said then, ‘forgive me my cruel-seeming subterfuge. Know that the deception was not meant for thee, but for my son. He hath ever been of a retiring nature, reluctant to exercise his will, but his will shall prevail upon this world, and He must learn now to unleash it or to restrain it as seemeth him best.’
‘It was a test, then, Most Holy?’ Belgarath’s voice had a slight edge to it.
‘All things which happen are tests, Belgarath,’ UL explained calmly. ‘Thou mayest take some satisfaction in the knowledge that thou and thine espoused wife did very well in this. It was the decisions of you two which compelled my Son to make his. Still do you both serve even now, when all seems complete. And now, Eriond, join with me and thy brothers. Let us go apart a ways that we may welcome Thee unto this world which we now deliver into thy hands.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE SUN HAD risen, a golden disc hanging low on the eastern horizon. The sky was intensely blue and the light breeze blowing steadily in from the west touched the tops of the waves with white. There was still the faint, damp smell of the previous day’s fog lingering on the stones of the strangely shaped pyramid which jutted up out of the sea to form the center of the reef.
Garion was light-headed with exhaustion. His body screamed for rest, but his mind skittered from impression to thought to image and back again, keeping him awake but all bemused on the very edge of sleep. There would be time later to sort out everything which had happened here in the Place Which Is No More. And then he rearranged his thinking about that. If ever there was a place that was, it was Korim. Korim was more eternally real than Tol Honeth, Mal Zeth, or Val Alorn. He gathered his sleeping wife and his son closer in his arms. They smelled good. Ce’Nedra’s hair had its usual, flowerlike fragrance, and Geran smelled like every little boy who had ever lived – a small creature probably at least marginally in need of a bath. Garion’s own need for bathing was, he concluded, somewhat more than marginal. Yesterday had been very strenuous.
His friends were gathered in strange little groupings here and there around the amphitheater. Barak, Hettar, and Mandorallen were talking with Zakath. Liselle sat with a look of abstract concentration on her face, combing Cyradis’ hair. The ladies all seemed quite determined to take the Seeress of Kell in hand. Sadi and Beldin sprawled on the stones near the carcass of the dragon, drinking ale. Sadi’s expression was polite, but it nonetheless revealed that he was consuming the bitter brew more out of politeness than from any sense of gusto. Unrak was exploring, and close on his heels was Nathel, the slack-faced young King of the Thulls. The Archduke Otrath stood alone near the now-sealed portal to the grotto, his face filled with apprehensive dread. Kal Zakath had not yet seen fit to discuss certain matters with his kinsman, and Otrath was obviously not looking forward to their conversation. Eriond was talking quietly with Aunt Pol, Durnik, Belgarath, and Poledra. The young God had a strange nimbus of pale light about Him. Silk was nowhere in sight.
And then the little man came around the shoulder of the pyramid. Behind him, on the far side of the peak, rose a column of dark smoke. He came down the stairway to the floor of the amphitheater and crossed to where Garion was sitting.
‘What were you doing?’ Garion asked him.
‘I se
t out a signal for Captain Kresca,’ Silk replied. ‘He knows the way back to Perivor, and I’ve seen Barak navigate in confined waters before. Seabird’s meant for the open sea, not for close quarters.’
‘You’ll hurt his feelings if you tell him that, you know.’
‘I wasn’t planning to tell him.’ The rat-faced little man sprawled on the stones beside Garion and his family.
‘Did Liselle have that little chat with you as yet?’ Garion asked.
‘I think she’s saving it up. She wants to have plenty of uninterrupted time for it. Is marriage always like this? I mean, do you always live in perpetual apprehension, waiting for these conversations?’
‘It’s not uncommon. You’re not married yet, though.’
‘I’m closer to it than I ever thought I’d be.’
‘Are you sorry?’
‘No, not really. Liselle and I are suited for each other. We have a great deal in common. I just wish she wouldn’t keep things hanging over my head is all.’ Silk looked sourly around the amphitheater. ‘Does he have to glow like that?’ he asked, pointing at Eriond.
‘He probably doesn’t even know He’s doing it. He’s new at this. He’ll get better at it as he goes along.’
‘Do you realize that we’re sitting around criticizing a God?’
‘He was a friend first, Silk. Friends can criticize us without giving offense.’
‘My, aren’t we philosophical this morning? My heart almost stopped when He touched Belgarath and Poledra with the Orb, though.’
‘Mine, too,’ Garion admitted, ‘but it appears he knew what he was doing.’ He sighed.
‘What’s the problem?’
‘It’s all over now. I think I’m going to miss it – at least I will just as soon as I get caught up on my sleep.’
‘It has been a little hectic for the past few days, hasn’t it? I suppose that if we put our heads together, we can come up with something exciting to do.’
‘I know what I’m going to be doing,’ Garion told him.
‘Oh? What’s that?’
‘I’m going to be very busy being a father.’
‘Your son won’t stay young forever, Garion.’