Rivan Codex Series

by Eddings, David

  Cyradis sat at the table eating a simple meal with Toth standing protectively over her. "What hath thou wrought, Ancient One?" she asked.

  "Naradas is no longer with us," he replied, "and now the king's in mourning for him. It could be weeks before he recovers his composure enough to show me that map."

  Her face grew distant and Garion seemed to hear the murmur of mat strange group mind. "I am permitted to aid thee in this, Ancient One," she said. "The Child of Dark hath violated the Tt-fpommandment we laid upon her when we assigned her this task. •'Ipbe sent her henchman here rather than coming to seek the chart 4llerself. Thus certain strictures upon me are relaxed."

  She leaned back in her chair and spoke briefly to Toth. He nodded and quietly left the room. “I have sent for one who will assist us," she said.

  "What exactly are you going to do?" Silk asked her.

  "It might be unwise of me to tell thee in advance, Prince Kheldar. Canst thou, however, discover the location of the remains of Naradas for me?"

  "I should be able to do that," he replied. "I'll go ask around a bit." Then he left the room.

  "And when Prince Kheldar returns with the location of dead Naradas, thou, King of Riva, and thou, Emperor of Mallorea, go even unto the king and prevail upon him in the strongest of terms to accompany you at midnight to that place, for certain truths shall be revealed to him there which may lessen his grief."

  "Cyradis," Beldin sighed, "why must you always complicate things?"

  She smiled almost shyly. “It is one of my few delights, gentle Beldin. To speak obscurely doth cause others to ponder my words more carefully. The dawning of understanding in them causes me a certain satisfaction."

  "Not to mention the fact that it's very irritating."

  "That perhaps is also a part of the delight," she agreed impishly.

  "You know," Beldin said to Belgarath, "I think she's a human being after all."

  It was about ten minutes later when Silk returned. "Found him," he said a bit smugly. "They've got him laid out on a bier in the chapel of Chamdar on the main floor of the palace. I looked in on him. He's really much, much more attractive with his eyes closed. The funeral's scheduled for tomorrow. It's summer, and he probably won't keep."

  "What would be thine estimate of the hour, Goodman?" Cyradis asked Durnik.

  The smith went to the window and looked up at the stars. "I make it about an hour before midnight," he replied.

  "Go then now, Belgarion and Zakath. Use all the powers of persuasion at your command. It is absolutely essential that the king be in that chapel at midnight."

  "We'll bring him, Holy Seeress," Zakath promised her.

  "Even if we have to drag him," Garion added.

  "I wish I knew what she was up to," Zakath said as he and Garion walked down the hall outside. "It might make the king a bit easier to persuade if we could tell him what to expect.”

  "It might also make him skeptical," Garion disagreed. "I think Cyradis is planning something fairly exotic, and some people have difficulty accepting that sort of thing."

  "Oh, my, yes." Zakath grinned.

  "His Majesty does not wish to be disturbed," one of the guards at the king's door said when they asked admission.

  "Tell him, please, that it is a matter of extremes! urgency," Garion said.

  "I'll try, Sir Knight," the guard said dubiously, "but he is much distraught at the death of his friend."

  The guard returned a few moments later. "His Majesty consents to see thee and thy companion, Sir Knight, but prithee, be brief. His suffering is extreme."

  "Of course," Garion murmured.

  The king's private chambers were ornate. The king himself sat in a deeply cushioned chair reading a slender volume by the light of a single candle. His face looked ravaged, and there were signs that he had been weeping. He held up the book after they had presented themselves to him. "A volume of consolation," he said. "It doth not offer much of that to me, however. How may I serve ye, Sir Knights?"

  "We have come in part to offer thee our condolences, your Majesty," Garion began carefully. "Know that first grief is always sharpest. The passage of time will dull thy pain."

  “But never banish it entirely, Sir Knight.”

  "Undoubtedly true, your Majesty. What we have come to ask of thee may seem cruel in the light of present circumstances, and we would not presume to intrude upon thee were the matter not of such supreme urgency—not to us so much as it is to thee."

  "Say on, Sir Knight," the king said, a fault interest showing in his eyes.

  "There are certain truths which must be revealed unto thee this very night, your Majesty," Garion went on, "and they can be revealed only in the presence of thy late friend."

  "Unthinkable, Sir Knight," the king said adamantly.

  "We are assured by the one who will reveal these truths that they may in some measure assuage thy sorrow. Erezel was thy dearest friend, and he would not have thee suffer needlessly.”

  "Truly," the king conceded. "He was a man with a great

  "I'm sure," Garion said.

  "There is perhaps another, more personal reason for thee to visit the chapel where Master Erezel lies in state, your Majesty," Zakath added. "His funeral will be held, we are told, tomorrow. The ceremony will be attended by most of thy court. This night provides thee thy last opportunity to, visit with him privately and to fix his well-loved features in thy memory. My friend and I will guard the chapel door to insure that thy communion with him and with his spirit shall be undisturbed."

  The king considered that. "It may be even as thou sayest, Sir Knight," he conceded. "Though it may wring my heart, I would indeed look upon his face one last time. Very well, then, let us repair to the chapel." He rose and led them from the chamber.

  The chapel of Chamdar, the Arendish God, was dimly lighted by a lone candle standing on the bier at the body's head. A gold-colored cloth covered the immobile form of Naradas to the chest, and his face was calm, even serene. Knowing what he did of the Grolim's career, Garion found that apparent serenity a rriockery.

  “We will guard the chapel door, your Majesty,” Zakath said, "and leave thee alone with thy friend." He and Garion stepped back out into the corridor and closed the door.

  "You were very smooth back there," Garion told his friend.

  "You weren't so bad yourself, but smooth or rough, at least we got him here."

  They stood at the door awaiting Cyradis and the others. After about a quarter of an hour, they arrived.

  "Is he in there?" Belgarath asked Garion.

  "Yes. We had to do a bit of fast talking, but he finally agreed."

  Standing beside Cyradis was a figure robed and hooded in black. It appeared to be a woman, a Dal most likely, but it was the first time Garion had ever seen one of that race clad in any color but white. "This is the one who will aid us," the Seeress said. "Let us go in unto the king, for the hour is nigh."

  Garion opened the door, and they filed in.

  The king looked up in some surprise.

  "Be not dismayed, King of Perivor," Cyradis said to him,, "for, as thy champions have told thee, we have come to reveal truths to thee, truths which will lessen thy sorrow."

  "I am grateful for thine efforts, Lady," the king replied, "but that is scarce possible. My sorrow may neither be lessened nor banished. Here lieth my dearest friend, and my heart lieth on that coki bier with him."

  "Thine heritage is in part Dal, your Majesty," she said to him, "so thou art aware that many of us possess certain gifts. There are things the one you called Erezel did not tell thee ere he died. I have summoned one who will question him ere his spirit doth sink into the darkness."

  "A necromancer? Truly? I have heard of such, but have never seen the art practiced."

  "Knowest thou that one with such gifts cannot misspeak what the spirits reveal?"

  "I understand so, yes."

  "I assure thee that it is true. Let us then probe the mind of this Erezel, and see what truths he
will reveal to us."

  The dark-robed and hooded necromancer stepped to the bier and laid her pale, slender hands on Naradas' chest,

  Cyradis began posing the questions. "Who art thou?" she asked.

  "My name was Naradas," the figure in black replied in a halting, hollow voice. "1 was Grolim Archpriest of the Temple of Torak at Hemil in Darshiva."

  The king stared first at Cyradis and then at the body of Naradas in stunned astonishment.

  "Whom didst thou serve?" Cyradis asked.

  "I served the Child of Dark, the Grolim Priestess Zandra-mas."

  "Wherefore earnest thou to this kingdom?."

  "My mistress sent me hither to seek out a certain chart and to impede the progress of the Child of Light to the Place Which Is No More."

  "And what means didst thou use to accomplish these ends?"

  "I sought out the king of this isle, a vain and foolish man, and I beguiled him. He showed me the chart which I sought, and the chart revealed to me a wonder which my shadow conveyed immediately to my mistress. Now she knows precisely where the final meeting is to take place. I prevailed upon the king's gullibility and was able to lead him into various acts which delayed the Child of Light and his companions so that my mistress might arrive at the Place Which Is No More before him and thereby avoid the necessity of leaving the issue in the hands of a certain seeress whom my mistress distrusts."

  "How is it that thy mistress did not herself perform this task, which was lain upon her and not upon thee?" Cyradis' voice was stern.

  "Zandramas had other concerns. I was her right hand, and all that I did was as if she had done the deeds herself."

  "His spirit doth begin to sink out of reach, Holy Seeress," ;the necromancer said in a more normal tone of voice. "Ask quickly, for soon I will no longer be able to wrest further answers from him."

  "What were these concerns of thy mistress which prevented her from seeking the answer to the last riddle herself as she was commanded to do?"

  "A certain Grolim Hierarch from Cthol Murgos, Agachak by name, had come to Mallorea seeking the Place Which Is No More, hoping to supplant my mistress. He was the last of our race with enough power to challenge her. She met him near the barrens of Finda and killed him there.” The hollow voice broke off, and then there came a despairing wail. "Zandramas!" the voice cried. "You said that I would not die! You promised, Zandramas!" The last word seemed to fall away into some unimaginable abyss.

  The dark-hooded necromancer's head slumped fofward, and she was shuddering violently. "His spirit has gone, Holy Seer-ess," she said in a weary voice. "The midnight hour is past, and he can no longer be reached."

  "I thank thee," Cyradis said simply.

  "I but hope, Holy Seeress, that I have been able in some small way to aid thee in thine awesome task. May I retire now? For contact with this diseased mind hath distressed me beyond measure."

  Cyradis nodded briefly, and the necromancer quietly left the chapel.

  The King of Perivor, his face ashen but firmly set, walked to the bier. He took hold of the golden cloth that covered Naradas to the chest and hurled it to the floor. "Some rag perhaps," he said from between clenched teeth. "I would not look upon the face of this foul Grolim more."

  "I'll see what I can find, your Majesty," Durnik said sympathetically. He stepped out into the hall.

  The rest stood silently by as the king, his back to the bier and his jaws clenching and unclenching, stared at the back wall of the chapel.

  After a few moments, the smith returned with a torn piece of burlap, rusty and mildewed. "There was a storeroom just down the hall, your Majesty," he said. "This was plugging up a rat hole. Was it more or less what you had in mind?"

  "Perfect, my friend. An it please thee, throw it over the face of that piece of carrion. I declare here unto ye all, there will be no funeral for this miscreant. Some ditch and a few spadefuls of earth shall be his grave."

  "More than a few spadefuls I think, your Majesty," Dumik suggested prudently. "He's corrupted your kingdom enough already. We wouldn't want him to pollute it any more, would we? I'll take care of it for you."

  "I like thee, my friend," the king said. "An it please thee, bury the Grolim facedown."

  "We'll see to it, your Majesty," Durnik promised. He nodded to loth, and the two of them roughly lifted the body of Naradas from the bier by the shoulders and dragged it from the chapel with its sandal-shod feet bouncing unceremoniously across the floor.

  Silk stepped closer to Zakath. "So now we know that Agachak is dead," he said quietly to the Mallorean. "Urgit will be delighted to hear it. I don't suppose you'd be willing to send a messenger to him to let him know about it?”

  "The tensions between your brother and myself have not re-: taxed all that much, Kheldar."

  "Who are ye all?" the king demanded. "Was this so-called quest of thine mere subterfuge?"

  "The time hath come for us to reveal ourselves," Cyradis said gravely. "The need for concealment is now past, for the other spies Zandramas hath set in this place without the knowledge of Naradas cannot commune with her without his aid.”

  "That's Zandramas, all right," Silk said. "She doesn't even trust herself."

  Garion and Zakath raised their visors with some relief. "I know that your kingdom is isolated, your Majesty," Garion said in his normal dialect. "How much do you know of the outside world?"

  "There are times when seafarers call upon this harbor," the Icing replied. "They bring us news as well as goods."

  "And what of the events that shaped the world in times past?”

  "Our forebears brought many books with them, Sir Knight, for the hours at sea are long and tedious. Among those volumes were those of history, which I have read."

  "Good," Garion said. "That should make things a bit easier to explain. I am Beigarion, King of Riva," he introduced himself.

  The king's eyes widened. "The Godslayer?" he asked in an awed voice.

  “You've heard about that, I see," Garion said wryly. , "All the world hath heard of it. Didst thou indeed slay the God of Angarak?"

  "I'm afraid so. My friend here is Kal Zakath, Emperor of Mallorea."

  The king began to tremble. "What event is of such magnitude that it persuaded ye two to put aside thy hereditary enmity?"

  "We'll get to that in a moment, your Majesty. The helpful fellow who's out burying Naradas is Durnik, the most recent disciple of the God Aldur. The short one there is Beldin, also a disciple, and the one with the whiskers is Belgarath the Sorcerer. “

  "The Eternal Man?" The king's voice was choked.

  "I wish you wouldn't throw that around so much, Garion," Belgarath said in a pained tone. "Sometimes it upsets people."

  "It saves time, Grandfather," Garion replied. "The tall lady with the lock of white hair is Belgarath's daughter, Polgara the Sorceress. The little one with the red hair is Ce'Nedra, my wife. The blond girl is the Margravine Liselle of Drasnia, niece to the chief of Drasnian intelligence, and the blindfolded girl who exposed Naradas is the . The big fellow who's helping Durnik is Toth, her guide, and this one is Prince Kheldar of Drasnia."

  "The richest man in the world?"

  "The reputation might be a trifle exaggerated, your Majesty," Silk said modestly, "but I'm working on it."

  "The young fellow with blond hair is named Eriond, a very close friend."

  "I am awed to be in such august company. Which of ye is the Child of Light?"

  "That's the burden I bear, your Majesty," Garion told him. "Now, though it's largely a part of Alorn history and prophecy, you may know that from time to time in the past there have been meetings between the Child of Light and the Child of Dark. We're going toward the last one there's ever going to be. The meeting's going to decide the fate of the world. Coir problem at the moment is discovering where the meeting's supposed to take place."

  "Thy quest then is even more awesome than I had imagined, King Belgarion. I will aid thee in whatsoever way I can. The foul Grolim Naradas misled me
into hindering thee. Whatever small way in which I might assist thee may serve as partial recompense for that error. I will send forth my ships to seek out the place of the meeting for thee wheresoever it may be, from the beaches of Ebal to the reef of Korim.”

  "The reef of wIwf?" Belgarath exclaimed.

  "Korim, Ancient Belgarath. It doth lie to the northwest of this isle. Its location is clearly marked upon that chart which tfeou hast sought. Let us repair to my chambers, and I will show thee."

  "I think we've just about come to the end of it, Belgarath," Beldin said. "As soon as you take a look at that map, you'll be able to go home."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "That's the end of your task, old man. We certainly appreciate your efforts, though."

  "You wouldn't mind too much if I came along, would you?"

  "That's up to you, of course, but we wouldn't want to keep you from anything important you've been neglecting." Beldin's grin grew vicious. Needling Belgarath was one of his favorite forms of entertainment.

  As they turned toward the chapel entrance, Garion saw the she-wolf sitting in the doorway. Her golden eyes were intent, and her tongue lolled out in a wolfly smile.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  They followed the king through the dimly lighted'and deserted midnight halls of the palace at Perivor. A tense excitement filled Garion. They had won. No matter how hanl Zan-dramas had tried to prevent it, they had still won. The answer to the riddle lay no more than a few yards away, and once it was answered, the meeting would take place. No power on earth could prevent it now.

  "Stop that, " the voice in his mind told him. "You have to be calm now—very calm. Try to think about Faldor's farm. That always seems to settle you.”

  "Where have you—" Garion started, then broke off.

  "Where have I what?"

  "Never mind. The question always irritates you. "

  "Amazing. You actually remembered something I said. Faldor's farm, Garion. Faldor's farm. "

  He did as he had been told. Though the memories had seemed 190