The Seeress of Kell Read online

  It was nearly sunset when they reached the gleaming city in the valley. Garion noticed with a certain satisfaction that Beldin was also limping as they walked along the marble street that led to the house Dallan had lodged them in.

  The others were eating when they entered. As it chanced to happen, Garion was looking at Zakath’s face when the Mallorean saw that Cyradis was with them. His olive-skinned face paled slightly, a pallor made more pronounced by the short black beard he had grown to conceal his identity. He rose to his feet and bowed slightly. ‘Holy Seeress,’ he said respectfully.

  ‘Emperor of Mallorea,’ she responded. ‘As I promised thee in cloud-dark Darshiva, I surrender myself up to thee as thy hostage.’

  ‘There’s no need to talk of hostages, Cyradis,’ he replied with a slightly embarrassed flush. ‘I spoke in haste in Darshiva, before I clearly understood what it is that I am to do. I am committed now.’

  ‘I am, nonetheless, thy hostage, for it is thus preordained, and I must accompany thee unto the Place Which Is No More to face the task which awaits me.’

  ‘You must all be hungry,’ Velvet said. ‘Come to the table and eat.’

  ‘I must complete one task first, Huntress,’ Cyradis told her. She held out both hands, and Toth placed the heavy book he had carried down from the mountain in them. ‘Ancient Belgarath,’ she said in that strangely choral voice, ‘thus do we commend into thy hands our holy book as the stars have instructed us to do. Read it carefully, for thy destination is revealed in its pages.’

  Belgarath rose quickly, crossed to her, and took the book, his hands trembling with eagerness. ‘I thank you, Cyradis. I know how precious the book is, and I will care for it while it is in my hands and return it once I’ve found what I need.’ Then he went to a smaller table near the window, sat, and opened the heavy volume.

  ‘Move over,’ Beldin told him, stumping to the table and drawing up another chair. The two old men bent their heads over the crackling pages, oblivious to all around them.

  ‘Will you eat now, Cyradis?’ Polgara asked the blindfolded girl.

  ‘Thou art kind, Polgara,’ the Seeress of Kell replied. ‘I have fasted since thine arrival here in preparation for this meeting, and mine hunger weakens me.’

  Polgara gently led her to the table and seated her between Ce’Nedra and Velvet.

  ‘Is my baby well, Holy Seeress?’ Ce’Nedra asked urgently.

  ‘He is well, Queen of Riva, although he doth yearn to be returned to thee.’

  ‘I’m surprised he even remembers me.’ Ce’Nedra said it with some bitterness. ‘He was only a baby when Zandramas stole him.’ She sighed. ‘There’s so much I’ve missed – so many things I’ll never see.’ Her lower lip began to tremble.

  Garion went to her and put his arms comfortingly around her. ‘It’s going to be all right, Ce’Nedra,’ he assured her.

  ‘Will it, Cyradis?’ she asked in a voice near to tears. ‘Will everything really be all right again?’

  ‘That I cannot say, Ce’Nedra. Two courses stand before us, and not even the stars know upon which we will place our feet.’

  ‘How was the trip?’ Silk asked, more, Garion thought, to get past an uncomfortable moment than out of any burning curiosity.

  ‘Nervous,’ Garion replied. ‘I don’t fly very well, and we ran into some bad weather.’

  Silk frowned. ‘But it’s been absolutely clear all day.’

  ‘Not where we were, it wasn’t.’ Garion glanced at Cyradis and decided not to make an issue of the near-disastrous downdraft. ‘Is it all right to tell them about the place where you live?’ he asked her.

  ‘Of a certainty, Belgarion,’ she smiled. ‘They are of thy company, and thou shouldst conceal nothing from them.’

  ‘Do you remember Mount Kahsha in Cthol Murgos?’ Garion asked his friend.

  ‘I’ve been trying to forget.’

  ‘Well, the seers have a city that’s sort of like the one the Dagashi built at Kahsha. It’s inside a very large cave.’

  ‘I’m glad I didn’t go there, then.’

  Cyradis turned her face toward him, a concerned little frown touching her forehead. ‘Hast thou not yet mastered this unreasoning fear of thine, Kheldar?’

  ‘Not noticeably, no – and I’d hardly call it unreasoning. Believe me, Cyradis, I have reasons – lots and lots of reasons.’ he shuddered.

  ‘Thou must summon up thy courage, Kheldar, for the time will surely come when thou must enter a place such as thou holdest in dread.’

  ‘Not if I can help it, I won’t.’

  ‘Thou must, Kheldar. No choice is open to thee.’

  His face was bleak, but he said nothing.

  ‘Tell me, Cyradis,’ Velvet said then, ‘were you the one who interrupted the progress of Zith’s pregnancy?’

  ‘Thou art shrewd to have perceived the pause in that most natural of events, Liselle,’ the Seeress told her, ‘but nay, it was not I. The wizard Vard on the Isle of Verkat bade her to wait until her task at Ashaba was completed.’

  ‘Vard is a wizard?’ Polgara asked in some surprise. ‘I can usually detect them, but in his case, I didn’t sense a thing.’

  ‘He is most subtle,’ Cyradis agreed. ‘Things stand so in Cthol Murgos that great care must be exercized in the practice of our arts. The Grolims in the land of the Murgos are ever alert to the disturbances such acts inevitably cause.’

  ‘We were quite put out with you on Verkat,’ Durnik told her. ‘That was before we understood the reason for what you did. I’m afraid I treated Toth very badly for a while. He was good enough to forgive me, though.’

  The big mute smiled at him and made a few gestures.

  Durnik laughed. ‘You don’t really have to do that any more, Toth,’ he told his friend. ‘I finally figured out how you were talking to me.’

  Toth lowered his hands.

  Durnik seemed to listen for a moment. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘It’s much easier this way – and faster, too – now that we don’t have to wave our hands at each other. Oh, by the way, Eriond and I found a pond a little ways below the city here. It has some very nice trout in it.’

  Toth grinned broadly.

  ‘I thought you might feel that way.’ Durnik grinned back.

  ‘I’m afraid we’ve corrupted your guide, Cyradis,’ Polgara apologized.

  ‘Nay, Polgara.’ The Seeress smiled. ‘This passion hath been upon him since boyhood. Oft times in our travels he hath found excuse to linger for a time by some lake or stream. I do not chide him for this, for I am fond of fish, and he doth prepare them exquisitely.’

  They finished their meal and sat, talking quietly to avoid disturbing Belgarath and Beldin who still sat pouring over the Mallorean Gospels.

  ‘How is Zandramas going to find out where we’re all going?’ Garion asked the Seeress. ‘Since she’s a Grolim, she can’t come here.’

  ‘That I may not tell thee, Child of Light. She will, however, arrive at the appointed place at the proper time.’

  ‘With my son?’

  ‘As it hath been foretold.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to that meeting.’ He said it bleakly. ‘There are a great many things Zandramas and I have to settle.’

  ‘Let not thy hatred blind thee to thy tasks,’ she told him quite seriously.

  ‘And what is my task, Cyradis?’

  ‘That thou wilt know when it doth face thee.’

  ‘But not before?’

  ‘Nay. Thy performance of that task would be marred shouldst thou consider it overlong.’

  ‘And what is my task, Holy Seeress?’ Zakath asked her. ‘You said you would instruct me here at Kell.’

  ‘I must reveal that to thee in private, Emperor of Mallorea. Know, however, that thy task will begin when thy companions have completed theirs, and it will consume the balance of thy life.’

  ‘As long as we’re talking about tasks,’ Sadi said, ‘perhaps you could explain mine to me.’

  ‘You have already begun
it, Sadi.’

  ‘Am I doing it very well?’

  She smiled. ‘Passing well, yes.’

  ‘I might do a little better if I knew what it is.’

  ‘Nay, Sadi. Even as Belgarion’s, thy task would be marred shouldst thou know of it.’

  ‘Is this place we’re going to very far?’ Durnik asked her.

  ‘Many leagues, and there is yet much to be done.’

  ‘I’ll need to talk with Dallan about supplies, then. And I think I’ll want to check the horses’ hooves before we start. This might be a good time to get them shod again.’

  ‘That’s impossible!’ Belgarath suddenly burst out.

  ‘What is it, father?’ Aunt Pol asked him.

  ‘It’s Korim! The meeting is supposed to take place at Korim!’

  ‘Where’s that?’ Sadi asked in puzzlement.

  ‘It’s no place,’ Beldin growled. ‘It’s not there anymore. It was a mountain range that sank into the sea when Torak cracked the world. The Book of Alorn mentions it as “The High Places of Korim, which are no more.”.’

  ‘There’s a certain perverted logic to it,’ Silk observed. ‘That’s what these assorted prophecies have meant all along when they talked about a Place Which Is No More.’

  Beldin tugged thoughtfully at one ear. ‘There’s something else, too,’ he noted. ‘You remember the story Senji told us back at Melcene? About the scholar who stole the Sardion? His ship was last seen rounding the southern tip of Gandahar, and it never came back. Senji said he thought that it had gone down in a storm off the Dalasian coast. It’s beginning to sound as if he was right. We have to go where the Sardion is, and I’ve got the uncomfortable feeling that it’s resting on top of a mountain that sank into the sea over five thousand years ago.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE QUEEN OF Riva was in a pensive mood as they set out from the glowing marble city of Kell. A peculiar kind of languor seemed to come over her as they rode through the forest to the west of Kell, a languor that grew more pronounced with each passing mile. She took no part in the general conversation, but was content merely to listen.

  ‘I don’t see how you can be so calm about this, Cyradis,’ Belgarath was saying to the blindfolded Seeress as they rode along. ‘Your task will fail the same as ours will if the Sardion is lying at the bottom of the sea. And why are we making this side trip to Perivor?’

  ‘It is there that the instruction thou received from the Holy Book will be made clear to thee, Ancient Belgarath.’

  ‘Couldn’t you just explain it to me yourself? We’re a little pressed for time, you know.’

  ‘That I may not do. I may not give thee any aid which I do not also give to Zandramas. It is thy task – and hers – to unravel this riddle. To aid one of thee and not the other is forbidden.’

  ‘Somehow I thought you might look at it that way,’ he said glumly.

  ‘Where’s Perivor?’ Garion asked Zakath.

  ‘It’s an island off the south coast of Dalasia,’ the Mallorean replied. ‘The inhabitants there are very strange. Their legends say that they’re descendants of some people from the west who were aboard a ship that was blown off-course and wrecked on the island about two thousand years ago. The island’s of little value, and the people there are fearsome fighters. The general opinion in Mal Zeth has always been that the place wouldn’t be worth the trouble it would take to subdue it, and Urvon didn’t even bother to send Grolims there.’

  ‘If they’re so savage, won’t it be sort of dangerous for us to go there?’

  ‘No. Actually they’re civil and even hospitable – as long as you don’t try to land an army there. That’s when things start to take a turn for the worse.’

  ‘Have we really got the time to go to this place?’ Silk asked the Seeress of Kell.

  ‘Ample time, Prince Kheldar,’ she replied. ‘The stars have told us for eons that the Place Which Is No More awaits the coming of thee and thy companions, and that thou and thy companions will come there upon the day appointed for the meeting.’

  ‘And so will Zandramas, I suppose?’

  She smiled a gentle little smile. ‘How can there be a meeting if the Child of Dark be not also present?’ she asked him.

  ‘I think I detected a faint glimmer of humor there, Cyradis,’ he bantered. ‘Isn’t that a bit out of character for one of the seers?’

  ‘How little you know us, Prince Kheldar.’ She smiled again. ‘Oft times we have been convulsed with laughter at some message writ large in the stars and at the absurd lengths to which others go to ignore or avoid that which is pre-ordained. Submit to the instruction of the heavens, Kheldar. Spare thyself the agony and turmoil of trying to evade thy fate.’

  ‘You throw the word fate around awfully lightly, Cyradis,’ he said disapprovingly.

  ‘Hast thou not come here in response to a fate laid down for thee at the beginning of days? All thy concern with commerce and espionage have been but a diversion to occupy thee until the appointed day.’

  ‘That’s a polite way to tell someone he’s been behaving like a child.’

  ‘We are all children, Kheldar.’

  Beldin came soaring through the sun-dappled forest, avoiding tree trunks with deft shifts of his wings. He settled to earth and changed form.

  ‘Trouble?’ Belgarath asked him.

  ‘Not as much as I’d expected.’ The dwarf shrugged. ‘And that worries me a bit.’

  ‘Isn’t that a little inconsistent?’

  ‘Consistency is the defense of a small mind. Zandramas couldn’t go to Kell, right?’

  ‘As far as we know.’

  ‘Then she has to follow us to the meeting place, right?’

  ‘Unless she’s found some other way to find out where it is.’

  ‘That’s what worries me. If she had to follow us, wouldn’t it be logical for her to have ringed this forest with troops and Grolims to find out which way we were going?’

  ‘I suppose so, yes.’

  ‘Well, there’s no army out there – only a few patrols, and they’re just going through the motions.’

  Belgarath frowned. ‘What’s she up to?’

  ‘My point exactly. I’d guess that she’s got a surprise in store for us somewhere.’

  ‘Keep your eyes open, then. I don’t want her slipping up behind me.’

  ‘It might simplify things if she did.’

  ‘I doubt it. Nothing about this entire affair has been simple, and I don’t expect things to change at this stage.’

  ‘I’ll go scout ahead.’ The dwarf blurred and soared away.

  They made their encampment that evening beside a spring that gushed out of an outcropping of moss-covered rock. Belgarath seemed moody and out of sorts, so the rest of them avoided him as they worked at tasks they had repeated so many times that they had become habitual.

  ‘You’re very quiet this evening,’ Garion said to Ce’Nedra as they sat by the fire after supper. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I just don’t feel like talking.’ The peculiar lethargy that had come over the little queen had not diminished as the day wore on, and she had actually found herself dozing in her saddle several times during the late afternoon.

  ‘You look tired,’ he observed.

  ‘I am, a bit. We’ve been traveling for a long time now. I think it might be starting to catch up with me.’

  ‘Why don’t you go to bed then? You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.’

  She yawned and held out her arms to him. ‘Carry me,’ she said.

  He looked startled. Ce’Nedra enjoyed startling her husband. His face always looked so wide-eyed and boyish. ‘Aren’t you feeling well?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m fine, Garion. I’m just sleepy, and I want to be babied a bit. Carry me to the tent, put me to bed, and tuck me in.’

  ‘Well, if that’s what you want …’ He rose, picked her up easily, and carried her across the encampment to their tent.

  ‘Garion,’ she murmured drows
ily after he had gently drawn their blankets up around her shoulders.

  ‘Yes, dear?’

  ‘Please don’t wear your mail shirt when you come to bed. It makes you smell like an old iron pot.’

  Ce’Nedra’s sleep that night was disturbed by strange dreams. She seemed to see people and places she had not seen or even thought of in years. She saw legionnaires guarding her father’s palace, and Lord Morin, her father’s chamberlain, hurrying down a marble corridor. Then she seemed to be at Riva, holding a long, incomprehensible conversation with Brand, the Rivan Warder, while Brand’s blond niece sat spinning flax by the window. Arell seemed unconcerned about the dagger hilt protruding from between her shoulder blades. Ce’Nedra stirred, muttering to herself, and immediately began to dream again.

  She seemed then to be at Rheon in eastern Drasnia. Casually, she plucked a dagger from the belt of Vella, the Nadrak dancer, and just as casually drove it to the hilt into the belly of black-bearded Ulfgar, the head of the Bear-cult. Ulfgar was speaking sneeringly to Belgarath as Ce’Nedra sank the knife into him, and he did not even pay any attention to her as she slowly twisted the blade in his vitals.

  And then she was at Riva again, and she and Garion were sitting naked beside a sparkling forest pool while thousands of butterflies hovered over them.

  She traveled in her restless dream to the ancient city of Val Alorn in Cherek, and then went on to Boktor for the funeral of King Rhodar. And once again she saw the battlefield at Thull Mardu, and once more the face of her self-appointed protector, Brand’s son, Olban.

  There was no coherence to the dream. She seemed to go from place to place without effort, moving through time and space looking for something, although she could not remember what it was she had lost.

  When she awoke the next morning, she was as tired as she had been the previous evening. Every movement was an effort, and she kept yawning.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Garion asked her as they dressed. ‘Didn’t you sleep well?’

  ‘Not really,’ she replied. ‘I kept having the strangest dreams.’

  ‘Do you want to talk about them? Sometimes that’s the best way to put them to rest so they don’t keep coming back night after night.’