"Some of each, actually. There's one of them now." Eriond pointed out to sea.
They all turned to look.
Silk suddenly laughed. "We should have known," he said. “Trust Barak to disobey orders.”
They all looked out at the gently rolling ocean. The Seabird looked a bit the worse for weather, but she wallowed through the waves ponderously on a starboard tack that was taking her on a course past the reef. "Beldin," Silk suggested, "why don't we go down to the shore and light a signal for him?"
"Can't you do it yourself?"
"I'll be happy to—just as soon as you teach me how to set fire to rocks."
"Oh, I hadn't thought of that, I guess."
“Are you sure you're not older than Belgarath? Your memory seems to be slipping a bit, old boy."
"Don't belabor it, Silk. Let's go see if we can signal that oversized barge into shore."
The two of them started down to the edge of the water.
“Was that arranged?” Garion asked Eriond.” Barak showing up, I mean?"
"We had a hand in it, yes," Eriond admitted. "You're going to need transportation back to Riva, and Barak and the others are sort of entitled to find out what happened here."
"The others, too? Is that all right? I mean, at Rheon Cyradis said—"
"There's no problem now.” Eriond smiled. "The Choice has been made. There are quite a number of people on their way to meet us, actually. Our mutual friend has a passion for tying up loose ends."
"You've noticed that already, I see."
The Seabird hove to on the lee side of the reef, and a longboat put out from her starboard side to glide across what seemed to Garion to be a molten stretch of water made golden by the setting sun. They all went down to the shore to join Silk and Beldin as (he longboat ran smoothly toward the shore of the reef.
"What kept you?" Silk called across the intervening water to Barak, who stood, his beard aflame in the light of the setting sun, in the prow of the boat.
Barak was grinning broadly. "How did things turn out?" he shouted.
"Quite well, actually," Silk called back. Then he seemed to think of something. "Sorry, Cyradis," he said to the Seeress. "That was insensitive of me, wasn't it?"
"Not entirely, Prince Kheldar. My companion's sacrifice was made willingly, and methinks his spirit doth rejoice in our success even as we do."
They were all in the boat with Barak, Garion saw. Mandor-allen's armor gleamed just behind the huge Cherek. Hettar, lean and whiplike, was there, and Lelldorin, and even Relg. Barak's son Unrak was chained in the stern. Unrak had grown, but the restraints upon him were puzzling.
Barak placed one huge foot on the gunwale, preparing to leap from the boat.
"Careful," Silk told him. "It's deep right there. There are a fair number of Grolims who found that out the hard way."
"Did you throw them out into the water?" Barak asked.
"No. They volunteered."
The longboat's keel grated on the wave-eroded stones of the amphitheater, and Barak and the others clambered out. "Did we miss very much?" the big man asked.
"Not really," Silk replied with a shrug. "It was just your average, run-of-the-mill saving of the universe. You know how those things are. Is your son in trouble?" Silk looked at Unrak, who seemed a bit crestfallen in his chains.
"Not exactly that," Barak replied. "Along about noon, he turned into a bear, that's all. We sort of thought it was significant."
"It runs in your family, I see. But why chain him now?"
' "The sailors refused to get into the longboat with him until we did."
"I didn't follow that at all," Zakath murmured to Garion.
"It's a hereditary sort of thing," Garion explained. "Barak's family members are the protectors of the Rivan King. When the situation demands it, they turn into bears. Barak did it several times when I was in danger. It appears that he passed it on to Unrak—his son."
"Unrak's your protector now? He seems a little young, and you don't really need that much protection."
"No. He's probably Geran's protector, and Geran was in a certain amount of danger back there in the grotto.”
"Gentlemen," Ce'Nedra said then in a triumphant voice, "may I introduce the Crown Prince of Riva?" She held Geran up so that they could see him.
“He's going to forget how to walk if she doesn't put him down one of these days," Beldin muttered to Belgarath.
"Her arms should start getting tired before too much longer," Belgarath said.
Barak and the others crowded around the little queen even as the sailors who had been rowing reluctantly removed the chains from Barak's son.
"Unrak!" Barak roared, "Come here!"
"Yes, father." The boy stepped out of the boat and came forward.
"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 arm 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 roguishly. "I'm having too much fun with this, and I'm just starling to get wanned 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 . 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 offhand 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 preceded 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-faced 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 hi a deliberately offhand manner,”the new God of Angarak."
"The whatV 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 fiancee."
"Your one?" 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. Dumik 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," Dumik 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, Dur-nik," 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 that 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 semicircle 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 that Garion had seen before at Cthol Mishrak began to appear in the columns of pure light. Aldur and Mara, Issa and Nedra, Chaidan 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 wilt 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 Canon'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 tate.
Belgarath and Poledra began to glow with a blue nimbus as they looked deeply into each other's 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 probab
ly 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
^*eemeth 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 ex-T plained calmly. "Thou mayest take some satisfaction in the ;V knowledge that thou and thine espoused wife did very well in
'tias. It was the decisions of you two which compelled my son Ito make his. Still do you both serve even now, when all seems
complete. And now, Eriond, join with me and my 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 that 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 hi3 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 that had happened here in the Place Which Is No More. And then he rearranged his thinking about dial. 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, floweriike 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.
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