The Seeress of Kell

by David Eddings

  There was no point in arguing with her on that score. The idea that she would not survive this day was so firmly fixed in her mind that no amount of talking would erase it. ‘You might want to give him to Geran,’ she added. ‘Every boy should have a dog, and caring for him will teach our son responsibility.’

  ‘I never had a dog,’ Garion said.

  ‘That was unkind of you, Aunt Pol,’ Ce’Nedra said, lapsing unconsciously – or perhaps not – into that form of address.

  ‘He wouldn’t have had time to look after one, Ce’Nedra,’ Polgara replied. ‘Our Garion has had a very busy life.’

  ‘Let’s hope that it gets less so when this is all over,’ Garion said.

  After they had eaten, Captain Kresca entered the cabin carrying a map. ‘This isn’t very precise,’ he apologized. ‘As I said last night, I was never able to take very accurate soundings around that peak. We can inch our way to within a few hundred yards of the beach, and then we’ll have to take to the long-boat. This fog is going to make it even more complicated, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Is there a beach along the east side of the peak?’ Belgarath asked him.

  ‘A very shallow one,’ Kresca replied. ‘The neap tide should expose a bit more of it, though.’

  ‘Good. There are a few things we’ll need to take ashore with us.’ Belgarath pointed at the two stout canvas bags holding the armor Garion and Zakath would wear.

  ‘I’ll have some men stow them in the boat for you.’

  ‘When can we get started?’ Ce’Nedra asked impatiently.

  ‘Another twenty minutes or so, little lady.’

  ‘So long?’

  He nodded. ‘Unless you can figure out a way to make the sun come up early.’

  Ce’Nedra looked quickly at Belgarath.

  ‘Never mind,’ he told her.

  ‘Captain,’ Poledra said, ‘could you have someone look after our pet?’ She pointed at the wolf. ‘He’s a bit over-enthusiastic sometimes, and we wouldn’t want him to start howling at the wrong time.’

  ‘Of course, Lady.’ Kresca, it appeared, had not spent enough time ashore to recognize a wolf when he saw one.

  ‘Inching’ proved to be a very tedious process. The sailors raised the anchors and then manned the oars. After every couple of strokes, they paused while a man in the bow heaved out the lead-weighted sounding line.

  ‘It’s slow,’ Silk observed in a low voice as they all stood on deck, ‘but at least it’s quiet. We don’t know who’s on that reef, and I’d rather not alert them.’

  ‘It’s shoaling, Captain,’ the man with the sounding line reported, his voice no louder than absolutely necessary. The obviously warlike preparations of Garion and his friends had stressed the need for quiet louder than any words. The sailor cast out his line again. There was that interminable-seeming wait while the ship drifted up over the weighted line. ‘The bottom’s coming up fast, Captain,’ the sounder said then. ‘I make it two fathoms.’

  ‘Back your oars,’ Kresca commanded his crew in a low voice. ‘Drop the hook. This is as close as we can go.’ He turned to his mate. ‘After we get away in the long-boat, back out about another hundred yards and anchor there. We’ll whistle when we come back – the usual signal. Guide us in.’

  ‘Aye, aye, Cap’n.’

  ‘You’ve done this before, I see,’ Silk said to Kresca.

  ‘A few times, yes,’ Kresca admitted.

  ‘If all goes well today, you and I might want to have a little talk. I have a business proposition that I think might interest you.’

  ‘Is that all you ever think about?’ Velvet asked him.

  ‘A missed opportunity is gone forever, my dear Liselle,’ he replied with a certain pomposity.

  ‘You’re incorrigible.’

  ‘I suppose you could say that, yes.’

  An oil-soaked wad of burlap in the hawsehole muffled the rattling of the anchor chain as the heavy iron hook sank down through the dark water. Garion felt rather than heard the grating of the points of the anchor on the rocks lying beneath the heavy swells.

  ‘Let’s board the longboat,’ Kresca said. ‘The crew will lower her after we’re all on board.’ He looked apologetically at them. ‘I’m afraid you and your friends are going to have to help with the rowing, Garion. The longboat only holds so many people.’

  ‘Of course, Captain.’

  ‘I’ll come along to make sure you get ashore safely.’

  ‘Captain,’ Belgarath said then, ‘once we’re ashore, stand your ship out to sea a ways. We’ll signal you when we’re ready to be picked up.’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘If you don’t see a signal by tomorrow morning, you might as well go on back to Perivor, because we won’t be coming back.’

  Kresca’s face was solemn. ‘Is whatever it is you’re planning to do on that reef really that dangerous?’ he asked.

  ‘Probably even more so,’ Silk told him. ‘We’ve all been trying very hard not to think about it.’

  It was eerie rowing across the oily-seeming black water with the grayish tendrils of fog rising from the heavy swells. Garion was suddenly reminded of that foggy night in Sthiss Tor when they had crossed the River of the Serpent with only the unerring sense of direction of the one-eyed assassin Issus to guide them. Idly, as he rowed, Garion wondered whatever had happened to Issus.

  After every ten stokes or so, Captain Kresca, who stood in the stern at the tiller, signaled for them to stop, and he cocked his head, listening to the sound of the surf. ‘Another couple hundred yards now,’ he said in a low voice. ‘You there,’ he said to the sailor in the bow who held another sounding line, ‘keep busy with that lead. I don’t want to hit any rocks. Sing out if it starts shoaling.’

  ‘Aye, aye, Cap’n.’

  The longboat crept on through dark and fog toward the unseen beach where the long wash and slither of the waves on graveled shingle made that peculiar grating sound as each wave lifted pebbles from the beach to carry them up to the very verge of land and then, with melancholy and regretful note, to draw them back again as if the ever-hungry sea mourned its inability to engulf the land and turn all the world into one endless ocean where huge waves, unimpeded, could roll thrice around the globe.

  The heavy fog bank lying to the east began to turn lighter and lighter as dawn broke over the dark, mist-obscured waves.

  ‘Another hundred yards,’ Kresca said tensely.

  ‘When we get there, Captain,’ Belgarath said to him, ‘keep your men in the boat. They won’t be permitted to land anyway, and they’d better not try. We’ll push you back out as soon as we get ashore.’

  Kresca swallowed hard and nodded.

  Garion could hear the surf more clearly now and catch the seaweed-rank smell of the meeting of sea and land. Then, just before he was able to make out the dark line of the beach through the obscuring fog, the heavy, dangerous swells flattened, and the sea around the longboat became as flat and slick as a pane of glass.

  ‘That was accommodating of them,’ Silk observed.

  ‘Shh,’ Velvet told him, laying one finger to her lips. ‘I’m trying to listen.’

  The bow of the longboat grated on the gravel strand, and Durnik stepped out of the boat and drew it farther up onto the pebbles. Garion and his friends also stepped out into the ankle-deep water and waded ashore. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow morning, Captain,’ Garion said quietly as Toth prepared to push the boat back out. ‘I hope,’ he added.

  ‘Good luck, Garion,’ Kresca said. ‘After we’re all back on board, you’ll have to tell me what this was all about.’

  ‘I may want to forget about it by then,’ Garion said ruefully.

  ‘Not if you win,’ Kresca’s voice came back out of the fog.

  ‘I like that man,’ Silk said. ‘He’s got a nice optimistic attitude.’

  ‘Let’s get off this open beach,’ Belgarath said. ‘In spite of what Garion’s friend told him, I sense a certain tenuousness about this fog. I’ll feel a
lot better if we’ve got some rocks to hide behind.’

  Durnik and Toth picked up the two canvas bags containing the armor, and Garion and Zakath drew their swords and led the way up from the gravel strand. The mountain they approached seemed composed of speckled granite, fractured into unnatural blocks. Garion had seen enough granite in the mountains here and there around the world to know that the stone usually crumbled and weathered into rounded shapes. ‘Strange,’ Durnik murmured, kicking with one still-wet boot at the perfectly squared-off edge of one of the blocks. He lowered the canvas bag and drew his knife. He dug for a moment at the rock with his knife-point. ‘It’s not granite,’ he said quietly. ‘It looks like granite, but it’s much too hard. It’s something else.’

  ‘We can identify it later,’ Beldin told him. ‘Let’s find some cover just in case Belgarath’s suspicion turns out to be accurate. As soon as we get settled, I’ll drift around the peak a few times.’

  ‘You won’t be able to see anything,’ Silk predicted.

  ‘I’ll be able to hear, though.’

  ‘Over there,’ Durnik said, pointing with his sledge. ‘It looks as if one of these blocks got dislodged and rolled down to the beach. There’s a fairly large niche there.’

  ‘Good enough for now,’ Belgarath said. ‘Beldin, when you make the change, do it very slowly. I’m sure Zandramas landed at almost the exact same time we did, and she’ll hear you.’

  ‘I know how it’s done, Belgarath.’

  The niche in the side of the strange, stair-stepped peak was more than large enough to conceal them, and they moved down into it cautiously.

  ‘Neat,’ Silk said. ‘Why don’t you all wait here and catch your breath? Beldin can turn into a seagull and go have a look around the island. I’ll go on ahead and pick out a trail for us.’

  ‘Be careful,’ Belgarath told him.

  ‘Someday you’re going to forget to say that, Belgarath, and it’ll probably wither every tree on earth.’ The little man climbed back up out of the niche and disappeared into the fog.

  ‘You do say that to him a lot, you know,’ Beldin said to Belgarath.

  ‘Silk’s an enthusiast. He needs frequent reminding. Did you plan to leave sometime during the next hour?’

  Beldin spat out a very unflattering epithet, shimmered very slowly, and sailed away.

  ‘Your temper hasn’t improved much, Old Wolf,’ Poledra said to him.

  ‘Did you think it might have?’

  ‘Not really,’ she replied, ‘but there’s always room for hope.’

  Despite Belgarath’s premonition, the fog hung on. After about a half-hour, Beldin returned. ‘Somebody’s landed on the west beach,’ he reported. ‘I couldn’t see them, but I could certainly hear them. Angaraks seem to have some trouble keeping their voices down – sorry, Zakath, but it’s the truth.’

  ‘I’ll issue an imperial command that the next three or four generations converse in whispers, if you’d like.’

  ‘No, that’s all right, Zakath.’ The dwarf grinned. ‘As long as I’m on the opposite side from at least some Angaraks, I like to be able to hear them coming. Did Kheldar make it back yet?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Garion told him.

  ‘What’s he doing? These stone blocks are much too big to steal.’

  Then Silk slipped over the edge of the niche and dropped lightly to the stone floor. ‘You’re not going to believe this,’ he said.

  ‘Probably not,’ Velvet said, ‘but why don’t you go ahead and tell us anyway?’

  ‘This peak is man-made – or at least something made it. These blocks encircle it like terraces, all straight and smooth. The thing forms steps up to that flat place on top. There’s an altar up there and a huge throne.’

  ‘So that’s what it meant!’ Beldin exclaimed, snapping his fingers. ‘Belgarath, have you ever read the Book of Torak?’

  ‘I’ve struggled through it a few times. My Old Angarak isn’t really all that good.’

  ‘You can speak Old Angarak?’ Zakath asked with some surprise. ‘It’s a forbidden language here in Mallorea. I suspect Torak was changing a few things, and he didn’t want anyone to catch him at it.’

  ‘I learned it before the prohibition went into effect. What’s the point of this, Beldin?’

  ‘Do you remember that passage near the beginning – in the middle of all that conceited blather – when Torak said He went up into the High Places of Korim to argue with UL about the creation of the world?’

  ‘Vaguely.’

  ‘Anyway, UL didn’t want anything to do with it, so Torak turned his back on His father and went down and gathered up the Angaraks and led them back to Korim. He told them what he had in mind for them, and then, in true Angarak fashion, they fell down on their faces and started butchering each other as sacrifices. There’s a word in that passage, “Halagachak”. It means “temple” or something like that. I always thought that Torak was speaking figuratively, but He wasn’t. This peak is that temple. The altar up there more or less confirms it, and these terraces were where the Angaraks stood to watch while the Grolims sacrificed people to their God. If I’m right, this is also the place where Torak spoke with His father. Regardless of how you feel about old burnt-face, this is one of the holiest places on earth.’

  ‘You keep talking about Torak’s father,’ Zakath said, looking puzzled. ‘I didn’t know that the Gods had fathers.’

  ‘Of course They do,’ Ce’Nedra said loftily. ‘Everybody knows that.’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘UL is Their father,’ she said in a deliberately off-hand manner.

  ‘Isn’t He the God of the Ulgos?’

  ‘Not by choice exactly,’ Belgarath told him. ‘The original Gorim more or less bullied Him into it.’

  ‘How do you bully a God?’

  ‘Carefully,’ Beldin said. ‘Very, very carefully.’

  ‘I’ve met UL,’ Ce’Nedra supplied gratuitously. ‘He sort of likes me.’

  ‘She can be very irritating at times, can’t she?’ Zakath said to Garion.

  ‘You’ve noticed.’

  ‘You don’t have to like me,’ she said with a toss of her curls, ‘either one of you. As long as the Gods like a girl, she’ll do all right.’

  Garion began to have some hope at that point. If Ce’Nedra was willing to banter with them, it was a fair indication that she did not take her supposed intimations of her own incipient demise all that seriously. He did, however, wish that he could get that knife away from her.

  ‘During the course of your fascinating explorations, did you by any chance happen to locate that cave?’ Belgarath asked Silk. ‘I more or less thought that’s why you were out there sneaking around in the fog.’

  ‘The cave?’ Silk said. ‘Oh, that’s around on the north side. There’s a sort of amphitheater in front of it. It’s almost exactly in the middle of that face. I found that in the first ten minutes.’

  Belgarath glared at him.

  ‘It’s not exactly a cave, though,’ Silk added. ‘There may be a cave back inside the peak, but the opening is more like a wide doorway. It’s got pillars on each side and a familiar face above the lintel.’

  ‘Torak?’ Garion said with a sinking feeling.

  ‘None other.’

  ‘Hadn’t we better get started then?’ Durnik suggested. ‘If Zandramas is already on the island …’ He spread his hands.

  ‘So what?’ Beldin said.

  They all stared at the grotesque little hunchback.

  ‘Zandramas can’t go into the cave until we get there, can she?’ he asked Cyradis.

  ‘Nay, Beldin,’ she replied. ‘That is forbidden.’

  ‘Good. Let her wait, then. I’m sure she’ll enjoy the anticipation. Did anybody think to bring anything to eat? I may have to be a seagull, but I don’t have to eat raw fish.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THEY WAITED FOR almost an hour until Beldin decided that by now Zandramas must be keyed to a fever pitch. Garion and Zakath t
ook advantage of the delay to put on their armor. ‘I’ll take a look,’ the dwarf said finally. He slowly slipped into the shape of a seagull and drifted away into the fog. When he returned, he was chuckling evilly. ‘I’ve never heard a woman use that kind of language,’ he said. ‘She even puts you to shame, Pol.’

  ‘What’s she doing?’ Belgarath asked him.

  ‘She’s standing outside the cave mouth – or door, or whatever you want to call it. She had about forty Grolims with her.’

  ‘Forty?’ Garion exclaimed. He turned on Cyradis. ‘I though you said we’d be evenly matched,’ he accused.

  ‘Art thou not a match for at least five, Belgarion?’ she asked simply.

  ‘Well—’

  ‘You said had,’ Belgarath said to his brother.

  ‘I’d say that our star-speckled friend tried to force several of her Grolims to push through whatever it is that has the door sealed against her. I’m not sure if it was the force holding the door or if Zandramas lost her temper when the Grolims failed. About five of them are noticeably dead at the moment, and Zandramas is stalking about outside inventing swearwords. All of her Grolims have purple linings on the inside of their hoods, by the way.’

  ‘Sorcerers, then,’ Polgara said bleakly.

  ‘Grolim sorcery is not all that profound,’ Beldin shrugged.

  ‘Could you see if she’s got those lights under her skin?’ Garion asked.

  ‘Oh, my, yes. Her face looks like a meadow full of fireflies on a summer evening. I saw something else, too. That albatross is out there. We nodded, but we didn’t have time to stop and speak.’

  ‘What was he doing?’ Silk asked suspiciously.

  ‘Just hovering. You know how albatrosses are. I don’t think they move their wings more than once a week. The fog is starting to thin. Why don’t we just ease around and stand on one of these terraces just above that amphitheater and let this murk dissipate. Seeing a group of dark figures emerging out of the fog should give her quite a turn, wouldn’t you think?’

  ‘Did you see my baby?’ Ce’Nedra asked, her heart in her voice.

  ‘He’s hardly a baby any more, little girl. He’s a sturdy little lad with curls as blond as Eriond’s used to be. I gathered from his expression that he’s not very fond of the company he’s in, and judging from the look of him, he’s going to grow up to be as bad-tempered as the rest of his family. Garion could probably go down there and hand him the sword, and then we could all sit back and watch him deal with the problem.’