At the foot of the mountain, two Grolims were waiting for him. They greeted him with profoundest respect. "We felt you coming, King Belgarion, and we are honored by your visit. Please, allow us to convey you to our Mistress."
Garion was surprised to see them wearing the traditional black robes of Torak's Grolims. He knew that Rak Cthol freed its slaves immediately after the ban of slavery ten years ago. So he never doubted that the Grolims here decided to follow Eriond. His letter expressing the wish to see the saved parts of the library of Rak Cthol was answered soon by an invitation. Its tone was more than polite - even friendly.
Their way up the high mountain seemed endless. For a moment, Garion regretted that he didn't go falcon, and simply rode an updrift. But, of course, he didn't know where to find this "mistress", and it would have been sort of difficult to ask directions. Finally, they reached the top. Garion had a shock of recognition - this was the place where Silk fighted with Brill. Then they passed the Temple. The altars were clean, and the fires were out forever. Eriond had seen to that. Even the stink of burnt flesh was gone long ago. However, in this empty room was still an atmosphere of evil. After a moment, Garion understood why. Torak's face looked down at him.
One of the Grolims knocked at a door to the left. Garion perceived the soft touch of a probing thought.
"Come in," a melodic voice said.
When they stepped in, a young woman rose from her seat. She threw back her hood and shook her head to let her long hair fall freely over her shoulders. It was of a glossy black.
Garion held his breath. Of course, he knew that many Angarak women were beautiful, but he'd never expected anything like this. And he'd never met a Grolim with such an enormous potential - with the possible exception of Ctuchik.
She made a few steps around the table towards him. Garion was startled by the harmony of her motions. She couldn't be a day over eighteen.
"Welcome in Rak Cthol, King Belgarion. My name is Ka, I'm the High Priestess of this Temple," she said with a polite bow of her head. With a negligent gesture, she released the two Grolims. She had the manners of a queen. When the door closed, she added with a smile, "I was informed that the aim of your visit is more peaceful this time. A few hundred people were busy for thirty years to tidy up after your last stay."
"Don't blame me," Garion protested, "it was Ctuchik's catastrophic self-obliteration that destroyed this Temple."
"Maybe," she answered, "but it was the fear you could take Cthrag Yaska that drove him into desperation." She sighed. "It was a terrible earthquake. I remember it very well - and I was very young then." She openly enjoyed his incredulous look.
"You're right, King Belgarion, I'm younger than you - by three years."
She looked at him thoughtfully. Yes, these weren't the eyes of a young girl. They were almost black, and they were full of a dark knowledge. Garion shuddered when he thought about what she must have seen in the books she guarded here. Now, these eyes seemed to ask him a question. He shook off their suggestive power.
"Why do you wear a black robe, and not the white one, like all the followers of Eriond?" he demanded.
Ka answered with a shrug and just one word - "White!". And then she stood before him in a white robe. In contrast to this snowy white, her skin had a slight touch of yellow. Then she changed back to the original colors. Garion had to admit that the black satin and the bloody-red inside of her hood emphasized her fair complexion far better. His thought must have been loud enough.
"I see you are a man of good taste, King Belgarion," she said approvingly. Then she returned to her memories. "There's another thing I remember. Your shadow returned and burnt Agachak's beard. The old fool had a very high opinion of his potential. He didn't take it very well that even your shadow was mightier. And after that you destroyed the most precious jewel of our Temple - our sacred ruby." Her tone was faintly accusing.
"It was necessary, Ka. The Hierarchs tried to kill one of my friends."
Ka nodded. She knew the story, of course. "Why don't we sit down?", Ka invited him. While he took a seat, the door opened noiselessly. Without a word, a Grolim put two bowls with a reddish beverage onto the table and left the room.
"Wine?" he asked her.
"No, King Belgarion, that's a mix of juice and icy water. It's much better than wine when you are thirsty."
Garion was grateful. "Thank you, I was about to ask for a drink. I've really worked up a thirst during our way up here."
Ka smiled at that. For somebody with her talent, Belgarion thought loud enough fairly often. "Now we are in a better position to talk about our common 'friends'," she said with slight irony.
"I met Agachak later in Rak Urga," Garion remembered. "He hadn't got a more realistic notion of his talent, though."
"I wouldn't have expected it."
"His last mistake he made in Mallorea. He was foolish enough to face Zandramas. My friends saw how she turned into a Dragon and ate him."
Her beautiful face took a pained expression. "I pray you, Belgarion, don't mention the name of the Darshivan hag here. There's no name we'd hate more in Rak Cthol."
She didn't have to say that - Garion could feel her hatred. In this moment, he felt very near to Ka. He didn't have any reason to love Zandramas.
"She betrayed our whole world, Belgarion. Cthrek Goru was forged to defend it - from the demons, among others. And she gave it Mordja!" She was almost sobbing.
"Eriond told me the same ten years ago." Garion laid his hand on hers comfortingly. "We'll win it back," he said very firmly.
She gave him a warm look. The idea to invite him to Rak Cthol was even better than she thought at first - even though it seemed paradoxical. She looked in his eyes. "Torak's spirit touched you," she noted, "and not only once. I know him well; the books in our library are full of him."
Garion nodded. He remembered the feeling when he only looked at the Book of Torak in King Anheg's library, even though he didn't understand Old Angarak then. Naturally, this was nothing compared to their direct encounter...
"Sometimes I regret that I had to kill him," Garion confessed.
"Of course, you do, Belgarion," Ka agreed, "it's clear that Torak didn't want to kill you. But you were born to kill him," she sighed.
Garion was touched by how completely this fascinating woman understood his feelings. It was only natural, though - she knew the Dark Prophecies. That's why he was here. He hoped to find some hints which traps the Dark Destiny could have left, besides the treason with the demons.
"Nobody likes the idea of killing his son," Ka continued.
Garion realized that he obviously missed something here. She couldn't possibly mean his son.
Ka felt his confusion. She couldn't believe it. This powerful child, Eriond, couldn't be that naive!
"Eriond didn't tell you all, I see." She rose to her feet and fetched a book from a high shelf. Garion noticed that she didn't wear anything under her satin robe. A faint smile touched her face - she noticed him noticing. Garion felt how he blushed. He called himself a fool. Ka wasn't naive, she certainly knew that she wasn't exactly ugly.
Ka didn't want him to follow that thought too far. She had already found the page she was looking for, and now she translated for him.
"Lo, Torak, the daughter of thine enemy will be thy wife, and Belgarion will be thy son. But thou wilt have to win them. Beware, Dragon God, thy son will seek to slay thee. Send out, therefore, thy shadow to watch him, and to guard him from the evil power of the Destiny of Light."
Garion remembered the black rider of his childhood very well.
"Torak told me the same when we approached Cthol Mishrak," he admitted, "But the Prophecy said he's lying - he can't change the past."
"No, he couldn't," Ka agreed, "but wasn't Polgara really your mother - in a spiritual sense? It could have been something like that what he had in mind."
Garion stared at her in horror. This added a new dimension to what he had done.
"The Prophecy of Light didn't tell me the whole truth," he complained.
Ka knew that she had to open this old wound even a little further. Her compassion, however, was at least partially sincere.
"Would you have been able to kill him if you knew?"
"I'm not sure," Garion answered honestly, "maybe I would. But it would have been much harder."
Ka nodded. "However, you were willing to kill your own son, if necessary," Ka said admiringly. She knew that only that had defeated Zandramas at Korim. Of course, it would have been better if he'd really done it, but he wouldn't understand - not yet.
Garion recalled the terrible moment many years ago. He didn't understand very much of Old Angarak when Belgarath forced him to read this page of the Ashabine Oracles, but this wasn't really necessary. Garion could literally hear Torak's voice from this page then, and he heard it again in that grot.
"Hail, my hated brother, and farewell. We will meet - or have met - in the City of Endless Night, and there will our dispute be concluded. The task, however, still lieth before us in the Place Which Is No More. Should it be thou, fail us not. Failing all else, thou must reave the life from thine only son, even as thou hast reft mine from me."
And he indeed was his brother then. He could not allow for Zandramas to touch the Sardion with Geran's hand.
Ka felt the presence of Torak's spirit in the mind of his brother. It made her feel like a cat resting in the warm sunshine.
"I wouldn't have survived that, of course," Garion said, "I'd have to kill my son and my wife with one single blow. I'd have killed myself after that." He never had talked about it with anybody before.
"However, you were ready to die."
"I always knew that this risk was included, Ka. It was the sense of my life. Even now, I'm ready to die for this world, if it's really necessary."
Ka looked at him in adoration. There were tears in her eyes, and it made them even more brilliant. Once again, her beauty took away Garion's breath.
It was his free will! Belgarion would have his chance to die for the world of his brother Torak. She wanted to embrace him, but it was too early. First, he had to finish the task Torak set out for him - to kill the Child of Dark, who was doubtlessly infected by the spirit of Zandramas. And maybe he was really able to win back Torak's sword. If anybody could fight Mordja at all, it would have to be Torak's brother. Then he would have deserved his reward - to die in her arms in a moment of ecstasy. It would require only a quick cut. The sacrifice of the heart of the Godslayer would certainly make Torak's spirit strong enough. With a single thought, they would re-create his body.
It was almost midnight. Ka stood in the center of the Temple. Her heart sang - Torak's spirit lived in the minds of the Angaraks. The door opened, and a Murgo in a black robe stepped in. He fell down to her feet.
"Don't do that, Ernak," she said gently. She bowed down and helped him to his feet. With a happy smile, she looked in his eyes. "You want to die for our God," she said with her soft voice.
"Yes, it's my free will," he answered firmly. Ka loved this man. He had understood the original sense of the sacrifice. He gave his heart for his God, and Ka literally could feel how much stronger Torak's spirit would be after that. "You remember the incantation." She took his hand. "Let's call him."
They turned to the wall, from where Torak's face looked down at them. Then they spoke the ritual words. The stony mask seemed to melt and turned into Torak's beautiful face. Torak didn't die for nothing. She remembered the words of both Prophecies.
"Behold, the heart of the stone shall relent, and the beauty that was destroyed shall be restored, and the eye that is not shall be made whole again."
Cthrag Yaska had forgiven him, and had restored Torak's perfect body. If she only knew where the Gods had hidden it...
Ka turned to Ernak. "The time is now." She could feel Ernak shuddering slightly. He was a brave man, and she knew that he would set aside his fear. But she didn't want him to suffer more than necessary. His body relaxed when she kissed him. "Don't be afraid," she whispered, "it won't be very painful. Soon you will be in Torak's arms." She helped him to take off his robe and to lay down on the altar. Then she dropped her robe. His eyes grew wide when he beheld the most beautiful woman of this world bowing over him.
She was right, it wasn't painful. A few quick cuts with her sharp knife, and she held his heart in her hands. She laid it into a metallic vessel, and said just one word - "Burn!". A bright flame consumed the heart, without smoke or ashes. Ka smiled. "Come on, little boy, try to put out that fire without killing me - and you don't want to kill!". Then she looked at Ernak's body with appreciation. His face was still smiling. "Go to rest now, Ernak!" - with these words she translocated him two miles downward. Nobody was likely to look for him in the solid rock under the mountain. Another thought cleaned her bloody hands and her knife. Then, she pulled on her robe again and left the Temple.
On her way back to her private suite, she passed the room where Belgarion slept. His sleep really was very deep, Ka could feel it. "Open," she murmured at the door, and then she went in. She sat down on his bed and watched the sleeping man. On her robe was one of her hairs. Absently, she plucked it off and dropped it on the cutting edge of her knife. Her eyes followed the two parts falling down on the floor.
Then she looked at Belgarion. Of course, he was older than she was, but he certainly didn't look like a man of his age. Quite obviously, he cheated - not only women were vain. She touched his hair tenderly.
Suddenly, Ka perceived a change. His eyes began to move under the lids - he dreamed. Ka wondered how much he had opened his mind for her. She could watch his dream without any effort. Not surprisingly, it was influenced by the memories that awaked today. Again, she saw him killing Torak, and felt his deep regret while he remembered Torak crying "Mother!". Again, she saw him in that cave at Korim, his sword ready to kill his son and his wife. She resisted the temptation to make a slight alteration in his dream and to let him do it - he was not yet ready for that.
And then she smiled - she saw herself in his dream. He wasn't awake now, and he dared to imagine her without her robe. Clearly, he'd never seen an Angarak woman without her clothes before. With a gentle touch of her mind, she corrected the picture - it was almost like a kiss. His reaction was to be expected, but she didn't expect it that way. Ka had to suppress the urge to laugh out loud. Smilingly, she touched his hair again. Then, she left his room hurriedly. Behind the next corner, she couldn't help her mirth, though - it was too funny. This man was raised by prudish Sendarians?! However, he was married to a Dryad, all right.
Garion woke up from a ray of sunlight touching his nose. He had slept surprisingly well in this black temple-city. He didn't remember the frightening first part of his dream, but its end was still in his memory. It made him blush. Fortunately, Ce'Nedra's amulet didn't allow her to hear his thoughts, for all he knew. A dozen times he already planned to ask Aldur about the limits of this strange amulet, and a dozen times he forgot about it. One thing was beyond any doubt - if it was possible, Ce'Nedra would find it out sooner or later. And it was just difficult enough now and then without that.
Of course, he wasn't really very much surprised by his dream. Ka was an exciting woman. Smilingly, he dressed, and tried to recall how they came here from Ka's official room near the Temple. There was a delicate knock at the door. "Come in!" Then, however, he remembered that he had locked the door yesterday, and opened it. The man before him seemed to be one of the Grolims who met him yesterday, but he wasn't absolutely sure of that. "Good morning, King Belgarion," the Grolim said with a deep bow, "my Mistress invites you to share her breakfast."
Garion definitely liked the idea. While they went through this labyrinth of courtyards and corridors, he admitted that he probably wouldn't have found the way. It was the same black stone everywhere.
Ka was waiting for him. "I hope you slept and dreamed well in my Temple, Belgarion," she greeted him with a smile. Garion didn't know how to answer this. He just hoped not to blush visibly.
The breakfast was very simple, but Garion enjoyed it in the presence of his beautiful host. The flat kind of bread Garion knew already. There was some cold meat, and several sorts of fruits and juice, and a large decanter with a cristalline-clear liquid - water. It was very good and cold water - but it was just water. Ka noticed how he tasted it.
"It's the most precious thing on this table, Belgarion. You probably know how difficult it is to find water around here."
Garion had to agree. Even with the excellent nose of a wolf, it had been very hard for him to find drinkable water in the desert out there. And even that water had a slight foul taste of sulphur. But here they were at the top of a mountain...
"Thousands of slaves were busy thousand years to build Rak Cthol, Belgarion. To dig our well took twice this effort. This water comes from deep under the mountain."
Garion didn't ask how deep. He shuddered when he thought of the height of the mountain itself - one mile. The mere notion of a well going through this much solid rock made him sick. How could people be that insane to build a city here?
After they had finished eating, Ka showed him the library. Of course, it was only a small part of the books and scrolls Ctuchik had collected here. Most of them were lost forever after the earthquake. But a small part of Ctuchik's hanging turret didn't break off the mountain - not immediately. The Grolims of Rak Cthol had a few days to save all books they could find there, before the stones supporting these rooms gave in. Garion learned that the forbidden Book of Torak was only that small part of the original which was allowed for ordinary Grolims. Ka proudly showed him Ctuchik's complete copy. His knowledge of Old Angarak wasn't very deep, of course. Ka didn't mind to translate for him some of the passages, and he didn't mind to listen to her melodic voice. He was fascinated by the story how Torak forged his Sword of Shadows, to defend this world.
"Most people in the West have called Torak just insane," he said thoughtfully, "but Grandfather once remarked that it depends on your point of view. If you accept Torak's notion that this world was made for him, all his actions were completely rational."
Ka looked at him in utter surprise. After a short moment of thought, she nodded and said, "He is a wise man."
"There's another thing Belgarath wrote - Torak must have known what would happen to him when using the Orb for cracking the world."
"He knew," Ka agreed, "it's in the Book of Torak. He had to do this to save at least some of his Angaraks, and he accepted the punishment for that."
"Consequence, you mean," Garion corrected absently. When he noticed her astonishment, he quoted Torak: "There are no punishments or rewards, only consequences."
Ka was startled. "Nothing of this I've seen in the books here, probably they were lost. But how the people in the West can know this?".
Garion smiled. "Ka, you forgot that Belgarath and Polgara met Torak. They remember his words, and I read it in their memoirs."
"These books would be an interesting completion of our library, then," Ka concluded.
"I could send you a copy when I return to Riva," Garion proposed.
"We would be grateful for that, Belgarion. There would be a faster way, though... if you don't mind."
Garion didn't understand. "Faster?"
"You could create a copy of those books right here and now."
Garion laughed. "This would be fast, indeed - I don't remember almost anything of those books."
Ka smiled. "You are not right, Belgarion. All of those books is in your mind, you just don't know how to find it there. I could help you - if you open your mind for me."
In fact, his mind was open enough, but she was curious about how much he would trust her.
Garion looked at her with a strange expression. "Aunt Pol said it's dangerous - if I open my mind, somebody could erase it with a single thought."
Ka managed to stay serious. "This connection is mutual, Belgarion - I'd have to open my mind as well, with the same risk."
She was right, Garion knew that. He remembered now what he had experienced not very far from here. When they approached Cthol Mishrak thirty years ago, a Grolim had penetrated their shield with his thought. And Garion felt again how Polgara followed this thought back, and how she destroyed his mind. Again he saw how the Grolim used his last lucid moment to escape the terror filling his mind - how he jumped down from the incredible height of this rock. His memories were extremely vivid, and they were horrible. He didn't just think loud. It was rather a mental cry of pain, and he could have known the effect on this perceptible woman. Ka went very pale, her eyes were wide open. Only now he realized that she was in Rak Cthol then, and that she possibly knew this Grolim. He had never thought about what personal feelings Torak's Grolims could have for their "colleagues". Hardly it was always only contempt or hatred...
Ka drew in a deep breath. Then she said with a very low voice, "Thank you, Belgarion. I'm grateful that you cleared up a question nobody could answer for all that time. Now I know how my father died."
Garion spent much time together with Ka in the next two weeks. He learned a lot about Torak's strange logic, and about the iron will of his Grolims to follow his commands. Mostly, it was hardly distinguishable from ordinary stubborness. They had no mercy for others, but fairly often they had no mercy for themselves, too.
All this time, Garion felt the soft touch of Ka's mind. She obviously didn't attempt to explore his mind in depth, and he in turn respected her privacy. Nonetheless, this touch of their minds was almost like a gentle embrace. The outer world, including his own family, was very far from Garion in those days.
Ka enjoyed this time even more. The great Belgarion laid on her palm; and all she had to do was to double her fist. She could sniff out his mind like a candle, if she decided to do so. Indeed, this would be a nice way to pay back what she owed Polgara. However, she didn't want to change her far-reaching plans for a quick revenge. Right now, it was sufficient that she could do it. Unfortunately, Polgara didn't know that, but this could be helped, of course. And later, she would pay back her credit - with interest.
A big vulture landed at the top of the mountain. He shimmered and turned into a tall red-blonde young man. Geran laid the palm of his right hand at the pommel of the big sword on his back.
"Help me to find father, please," his thought asked the gray stone. Following the soft pull of his sword, he found his way through the labyrinth of Rak Cthol without difficulty. Just a few Grolims saw him, but they didn't seem to be surprised by the presence of this Alorn in the black temple-city, and they forgot immediately that they had seen him.
The door of Ka's laboratory clicked open at his command, and Geran stepped in. "Hallo," he said simply, and approached his father and the woman in black at his side. Ka looked at him in surprise. She hadn't felt him coming. Geran admitted that this Grolim priestess was beautiful. Despite his will, he remembered Zandramas, even though the comparison was ridiculous. In this moment, Ka's hatred for Zandramas played a bad joke with her. She could perceive Geran's memories only vaguely, and she misunderstood them completely.
"Belgarion, I can feel Zandramas here," she wailed. "She gave Cthrek Goru to the demons, and now she has Cthrek Yaska - Riva's sword!"
The close link between their minds was fatal now. Garion saw Geran as Ka did. The image of Zandramas superimposed that of his son. His reaction was that of an experienced fighter. With a single smooth motion he took Riva's sword out of the sheath on Geran's back. The Orb didn't resist, of course. It greeted Belgarion joyously. Aldur's Orb was the most intelligent stone in the universe - but not more. "No, she has not," Garion commented dryly.
Geran's reflexes were even faster. Almost at the same moment as he saw a man with a sword before him, he had taken a sword from the wall. It was beyond Garion how a man could move that fast. Of course, he perceived that Geran cheated. But the use of his will was far too complex. Garion couldn't even begin to understand how his son did it. He didn't think much about it. In his ears was that ringing he always heard during a fight, and before him he saw Zandramas with a sword in her hand. He didn't hear Geran's shout, "Father, what are you doing?! Wake up!" He attacked.
Unfortunately, Ka didn't understand anything in sword fights. She noticed how quick Geran was, but she misinterpreted his defensive tactics as weakness. Who could resist the Godslayer with Cthrek Yaska? In fact, Geran ignored the many opportunities to hit his father quite deliberately. He merely parried the heavy blows. Since he obviously didn't have a chance to get through to the mind of his father, he directed his thought at the Orb. Finally, the stone began to realize that this was not a frolic game. And it took steps - it simply stopped to support the enormous weight of the weapon. The sword in Garion's hand became incredibly heavy. This, however, only increased his rage - and he was a strong man. Another heavy blow let Geran falter, and he decided to stop that foolishness.
"Help him!" he commanded at the Orb. The Orb immediately burst out in a bright blue light. And this light showed the truth. Zandramas' image dissolved. Garion realized that he was fighting his only son, and he felt the touch of Ka's mind who wanted him to kill Geran. He pushed her back, and the brutality of this mental blow paralyzed her for a moment. With an angry cry, Garion gathered all of his physical strength and lifted the heavy sword, turning to Ka.
"No!" Geran didn't rely on this word. He knew he needed something more convincing here. Naturally, he didn't have the time to get between father and Ka to parry the blow. And he wasn't sure he'd risk to turn his back to this pretty sorceress. His trained intellect found a simple and efficient solution. Garion would never forget the terrible sound with which Geran's sword cut through the sinews and bones of his right wrist. Riva's sword fell down. Using his will, Geran loosened the grip of the hand, and put the sword back into the sheath. "It won't be that easy to take it again," he warned his father.
Garion looked at his right hand lying on the floor. He was in a shock, and he didn't feel pain. And he didn't understand anything.
Neither did Ka. This young man was obviously not obsessed with Zandramas' spirit. But why he saved the woman who wanted him dead, maiming his own father? Probably, it had to do with Eriond, and who was able to understand this strange child? Anyway, Ka didn't want to discuss it with Eriond himself. She felt him coming, and she didn't want him to look into her plans. Ka shimmered and turned in a big crow. Her wise and mischievous eyes looked at the two men, then she flew out of the open window. The last thing they heard was the cry of the bird, and it sounded like "Ka!".
Almost in the same moment, Eriond appeared out of nothing in front of Garion. This time he wasn't just irritated, but in rage. His voice was like thunder when he demanded, "What do you think you are doing?! Are you sane? This is Riva's sword, not a butcher knife! Why did you want to kill her?"
"She wanted me to kill my son...", Garion tried to explain.
"The Orb wouldn't hurt the heir of the Rivan throne, you fool! She thought that Zandramas' spirit lived in Geran, and you would have to kill him if this was true. But you wanted to kill her after she realized her mistake - why?" There was no question where he had learned to lose temper. This was definitely Belgarath's style.
"She is very dangerous...", Garion tried to justify himself.
"Do you really think that the two most powerful sorceres of the world can't control a Grolim priestess without killing?" Eriond asked with heavy sarcasm. Garion was ashamed.
Eriond turned to Geran, his face softened. "You fighted very well, Geran, my brother Aldur will be proud of you. And your move to save the life of the most beautiful woman of my world was brilliant."
Garion looked at the stump of his right arm. Brilliant?! He felt the pain now.
Eriond grew irritated again. "Don't you think you should fix it by now? It won't be easier if you wait longer, you know. Geran stopped the bleeding - I'm afraid you wouldn't have thought of that."
Garion stared at him. "Fix it?"
Eriond turned his eyes to the ceiling. It took the enormous will of a God not to add "Alorns!". Then he explained it patiently. "Garion, your body is built for healing. If you sew together the cut muscles, sinews, blood vessels and nerves, it will grow together even without any sorcery - but it will take many weeks. Now do you suppose that a former Child of Light could convince his body to hurry this time?" This dry voice was not Eriond's.
Garion blushed. Why this thought didn't occur to him? He took his right hand and put it to the stump. Now he was grateful that Polgara insisted in some study of anatomy. He knew what was necessary, and he gathered his will to let it happen. Then he released his will with the first word that came into his mind - "Hurry!".
"Hurry?!" Geran repeated incredulously.
Garion tried to move his hand, doubled his fist. His fingertips were numb, and the motions were awkward, but it worked. He was proud of himself. Eriond looked disapprovingly at the white scar around Garion's wrist.
"I didn't know how to avoid this," Garion apologized.
"You blundered with the nerves, too," Eriond sighed. "It will take a few weeks until you can use your right hand normally."
His anger seemed to be gone, but there was a great sadness in his eyes. "We were always friends, Garion," he said. When he noticed that the word "were" hit Garion like a whip, he corrected himself. "Okay, we are friends. I wouldn't waste my time with you otherwise. But I can't allow you to go around and kill people. You were born to kill Torak - Belgarath would probably use the word 'breeded'. But you are a man, Garion, and you have to control those homicidal impulses." He looked at Garion thoughtfully. Eriond felt pity for Garion, but he had deserved what would follow now. Hopefully, it would make him better. "Geran, tell him what you came for."
Geran sighed. "Mother once tried to contact you through her amulet, father. She heard a part of a talk with Ka. It worried her very much - not what you said, but how. She never tried eavesdropping again. Mother was afraid she could hear something she would not want to know. Was there something like that, father?"
Eriond answered for Garion. "No, Geran, he never touched her. He wouldn't have survived it, by the way." Then he showed Garion a vision. Garion saw himself lying, and Ka bowing over him. While she kissed him, his eyes closed, and then he saw the quick cut of her sharp knife, and his heart burning as a sacrifice for Torak. It was the only thing Ka had revealed to Eriond while she departed.
Garion went deadly pale. "And you didn't want me to kill her?"
"She's a Black Grolim. They sacrifice people to Torak's spirit - volunteers, mostly. You told her that you want to die for this world - and it's Torak's world in her understanding."
"I didn't understand her meaning," Garion protested.
"That seems to be your main problem," the dry voice commented.
"Mother contacted me," Geran continued. "She asked me to go here and to remind you that you have a family, and that we need you. - Why did you give Ka that much power over you, father?" Geran asked him accusingly.
Only now Garion realized how much he hurt Ce'Nedra. He even tried to kill her messenger - her only son... Garion looked at Eriond in horror. "Do you think she will forgive me?" he asked the God.
"Oh no, Garion, don't ask me. This is something you'll have to find out yourself." And then Eriond was gone.
"It will be sort of difficult to say goodbye to your hostess," Geran remarked. "I think we should move immediately. Mother and the girls are waiting for us."
Garion swallowed hard. Geran was right. "We'll go wolves?" he proposed.
"No, thanks, I don't want to go through that stinking desert with the nose of a wolf. Moreover, there isn't much water out there."
He was right, again. "What do you suggest then?"
"As I came here - as vultures. They are best adapted to the desert." "But they are so ugly," Garion complained.
Geran grinned. "The female I met didn't seem to think so. She was very much disappointed that I had to hurry."
Garion looked at him in astonishment. Geran seemed to see those things from a very natural and practical point of view. It was clear now that he didn't intend to maim him permanently. Garion had to agree with Eriond - it was brilliant to find this solution in a moment. Garion knew that his own mind was not nearly as quick. Strangely, he didn't feel ashamed by that, but proud of his son, instead. "Can you show me the image? I don't know vultures very well," he asked Geran.
"Of course, father." Geran looked at Garion's right hand. "Be careful, you'll have problems with your right wing. Try to flap as less as possible. Fortunately, there's always an updrift over that desert." He shimmered, and then he slowly changed into the form of a vulture.
Garion followed his example. It was easier than he thought. Geran was right, though - he managed to fly up only at the second try. Then, however, it was much easier - he simply had to lock his wings and to soar. The nature of vultures took over. He became very calm, and he moved without many thoughts, only waiting for signals of death from the ground.
Those signals they received only much later, when they already left behind the Escarpment and were over Algaria. They went down immediately. A colt was fallen into a ravine and had broken both forelegs. His mother tried to help him, but there wasn't anything the mare could do. When she saw the two big birds coming, she fled. The colt looked at them, his big eyes filled with pain and fear. A few blows with their heavy beaks ended his suffering. And then they ate, and drank his blood. Again, they didn't think much about it - it felt right. When they had ate their fill, they continued their way to North-West. A group of mounted Algars seemed to disapprove of the presence of the two vultures. But their short bows didn't reach that high.
When they arrived at the Sendarian border, they rested and changed back to their own forms.
"My opinion about vultures has changed a lot," Garion admitted.
Geran agreed. "Aldur taught me that we shouldn't listen too much to our prejudices - it blocks our minds."
After that break, they went wolves, of course. Garion felt at home in that form. However, he did have difficulties with that paw. He wasn't exactly lame, but he had problems to get into the rhythm of that economic wolf-trot consuming league after league. It went better while they traversed Sendaria. When they reached the Sendarian coast near Camaar, Garion felt almost normal. The personality of a wolf had its consequences. Garion knew that what expected him in Riva was going to be unpleasant. But he knew as well that he had to go through that to lessen his guilt. And the wolf Garion accepted that.
When they had to decide how to get to Riva, Garion proposed the albatross. Geran considered that, but then he decided, "It's not that far. I think a sea-gull will do. We can rest one time or the other on the water, and catch a fish - and then we'll be at home."
A few hours later, they changed back to their own forms on the shore of Riva. Now, of course, Garion almost heard his heart beating.
"Probably, they don't know that we're coming," he said. Geran was surprised. "You're wrong, mother is listening right now. Can't you feel her amulet?"
Garion didn't know what to say. "Hallo, Ce'Nedra, I'm coming," he managed finally - but there was no answer. Naturally, they knew the way. At the gates, Brand met them. He was deliriously happy to see his king and his crown prince. On their way to the throne room, he told Garion any number of things that didn't really interest him at the moment.
Then they entered the throne room. Brand withdrew immediately. Garion realized that his tiny queen filled this whole giant hall with her presence. Geran spoke first.
"Mother, I brought father here, as you asked me."
Ce'Nedra looked at him, and her green eyes were full of love.
"Thank you, Geran, I knew I can rely on you. Now, however, I'd like you to leave us. Your sisters can't wait to embrace you - and there's something I'd like to discuss with your father alone."
Geran loved his father, and after the two weeks they hunted together they were very close. However, he loved his mother even more. He only hoped that she could forgive father.
"Anything you say, mother," he said, and then he left.
Garion looked at Ce'Nedra nervously. Her eyes were much harder now. "Come on, Garion, I want to hear your story."
And Garion decided to tell her all. Well, almost all - he left out the dream of his first night in Rak Cthol. He even told her about the vision Eriond had shown him - Ka's plan to sacrifice him to Torak. This was not a very good idea.
"How appropriate," Ce'Nedra said in an icy tone, "you would have deserved that, because you lied to Torak."
Garion couldn't follow that, but she didn't mind to explain it.
"You told me yourself how you resisted Torak while you approached Cthol Mishrak. You showed Torak my image - and you even told me which one - to irritate and confuse him, and not that of the overpretty Grolim priestess! You betrayed Torak, you betrayed our love, and you even wanted to kill our only son for that witch!"
Her voice was about two octaves higher now. She almost cried the last words, and then she stormed out of the throne room with tears in her eyes.
Garion didn't have a chance to answer. And there wasn't anything he could answer. Ce'Nedra was right. Garion wanted to die, but he knew that he didn't have the right to do that. This world would need him for a while yet.
He spent much time with his children during the next days. Garion left for Rak Cthol only a few weeks ago, but it seemed to him that he was absent much longer. Of course, he really hadn't seen Geran about a year. He was impressed how much Geran had learned in the Vale in that time. He didn't hesitate to use his talent in everyday life, and he did it in a very natural way. Those little things didn't need much power, and Geran managed to do them almost noiselessly. His sisters adored him, and he loved his tiny Dryad sisters. As all the boys in the Rivan line, he didn't speak much - with one exception. He discussed with Beldaran all problems, his and hers.
But with the same patience he could play with his youngest sister, XMera. She was only two, and Garion wasn't entirely sure if that one-ended stick was the right toy for her. Then he remembered that Geran played with it at the same age, and it hadn't done any harm to his mind.
However, he wasn't happy, even when he was together with his son or with his daughters. Ce'Nedra didn't show up all these days. She didn't leave her rooms even for eating. There were hints that she saw their children, but her door stayed closed for him. She didn't even answer when he knocked. And he didn't insist - he really didn't know what to tell her. His children were always glad to see him, but they clearly avoided to speak about their mother.
Garion knocked at Beldaran's door.
"Come in, father."
"How did you know it's me?" Garion asked her while he stepped in.
"The servants knock more delicately," Beldaran replied with a smile, "and the others don't knock at all. When the door opens almost without any noise, I know it's Geran."
"But when your door is locked, they have to knock," Garion objected.
"Father, have you seen lately Geran opening a door with his hands? He wouldn't even notice if it's locked. He always simply comes in."
Garion was shocked. "But you are almost eighteen, and maybe sometimes you aren't dressed..."
Beldaran laughed. She was a Dryad, and she found that father paid too much attention to those things.
"Father, I'm not a Sendar. I'm Geran's sister, and he comes here to tell me something, or to ask something - and not to look at my dress."
She sighed. "In fact, he wouldn't normally notice my dress. And when I ask him about how he likes it, I can't pull out more than something like 'If you like it - where's the problem?'" She rolled her eyes upward. "Men!"
It was clear that she was trying to brighten him up, but Garion only smiled sadly. She was very similar to Ce'Nedra in her appearance - she had the same red hair and the same green eyes. In this moment, Garion realized how much he loved Ce'Nedra. He wouldn't be able to live without her. Suddenly, he knew what he had to do. There was only one thing he could do. "Excuse me," he said to Beldaran, and then he left hurriedly.
In front of Ce'Nedra's door, he drew a deep breath. Then, however, he let the air out again slowly - he didn't want to destroy that door. He measured his power very carefully, and the door opened with a soft click.
Ce'Nedra laid on her bed weeping. She sat up when she realized that this was not Geran. But Garion was already before her - on his knees. He didn't dare to look into her face.
"Ce'Nedra, I came to say that I still love you, and that I always will love you. I don't understand how this all could happen. I only know that I can't live without you." After a break, he added with a low voice, "Can you still love me? Can you forgive me?"
There was only a short moment of silence after his words, but it seemed to be endless. Then, to Garion's surprise, he felt her hands in his hair.
"Of course, I love you, you big fool. I'll never understand why, but I love you. I wouldn't have been that hurt if I didn't."
Garion looked up to her. Polgara had told her once that she didn't belong to the women who can cry without consequences for their beauty. And she had cried for several days now. But for Garion, she was the most wonderful woman in the world. And he told her that. Ce'Nedra bowed down to him and kissed him. The door shut noiselessly and locked. It would not open without Garion's will - he was a Sendar.