“It’s a sound plan, Garion,” Barak said approvingly.
Mandorallen stood up. “And when we arrive at this fortified city on the moors of eastern Drasnia, I will undertake with siege engines and diverse other means to weaken the walls so that we may more easily gain access when we make our final assault,” he noted. “Rheon will fall, and we will bring this miscreant Ulfgar to swift and terrible justice.”
“Nottoo swift, I hope,” Hettar murmured. “I was thinking along the lines of something more lingering.”
“We’ll have time to think about that after we catch him,” Barak said.
The door opened, and Ce’Nedra, pale and wan-looking and accompanied by Queen Layla and the other ladies, entered. “Why are you all still here?” she demanded. “Why aren’t you taking the world apart to find my baby?”
“That’s hardly fair, Ce’Nedra,” Garion chided her gently.
“I’m not trying to be fair. I want my baby.”
“So do I, but we’re not going to accomplish much by dashing around in circles, are we?”
“I’ll raise an army myself, if I have to,” she declared hotly. “I did it before and I can certainly do it again.”
“And just where would you take them, dear?” Polgara asked her.
“Wherever it is that they’ve got my baby.”
“And where is that? If you know something that we don’t, shouldn’t you share it with us?”
Ce’Nedra stared at her helplessly, her eyes filling with tears.
Belgarath had not contributed anything to the discussions, but rather had sat brooding out at the storm from a deep-cushioned chair by the window. “I’ve got the feeling that I’m missing something,” he muttered as Adara and Nerina led the distraught Ce’Nedra to a chair near the council table.
“What did you say, Belgarath?” Anheg asked, removing his dented crown and tossing it on the table.
“I said that I think I’m missing something,” the old man replied. “Anheg, just how extensive is your library?”
The Cherek King shrugged, scratching at his head. “I don’t know that I could match the university library at Tol Honeth,” he admitted, “but I’ve gatheredmost of the significant books in the world.”
“How does your collection stack up in the area of the mysteries?”
“Of what?”
“Prophecies -not so much the Mrin Codex or the Darine- but the others: the Gospels of the Seers at Kell, the Grolim Prophecies of Rak Cthol, the Oracles of Ashaba.”
“I’ve got that one,” Anheg told him. “the Ashaba thing. I picked it up about a dozen years ago.”
“I think I’d better go to Val Alorn and have a look at it.”
“This is hardly the time for side trips, Grandfather,” Garion objected.
“Garion, we know that something’s happening that goes beyond an insurrection by a group of religious fanatics. That passage you found in the Mrin Codex was very specific. It instructed me to look into the mysteries, and I think that if I don’t do exactly that, we’re all likely to regret it.” He turned to Anheg. “Where’s your copy of the Ashabine Oracles?”
“In the library -up on the top shelf. I couldn’t make any sense out of it, so I stuck it up there. I always meant to get back to it one day.” Then a thought occurred to him. “Oh, by the way, there’ s a copy of the Mallorean Gospels in the monastery at Mar Terrin.”
Belgarath blinked.
“That’s one of the other books you wanted to see, wasn’t it? The one by the Seers of Kell?”
“How could you possibly know what’s in the library at Mar Terrin?”
“I heard about it a few years back. I have people who keep their eyes open for rare books. Anyway, I made the monks an offer for it -quite generous, I thought- but the negotiations fell through.”
“You’re a positive sink of information, Anheg. Can you think of anything else?”
“I can’t help you with the Grolim Prophecies of Rak Cthol, I’m afraid. The only copy I know of was in Ctuchik’s library, and that was probably buried when you blew Rak Cthol off its mountaintop. You could go dig for it, I suppose.”
“Thanks, Anheg,” Belgarath said drily. “You have no idea how much I appreciate your help.”
“I can’t believe that I’m hearing this,” Ce’Nedra said accusingly to Belgarath. “Someone has stolen my baby -your great-grandson- and instead of trying to find him, you’re planning to go off chasing obscure manuscripts.”
“I’m not abandoning the child, Ce’Nedra. I’m just looking for him in a different place, that’s all.” He looked at her with a great sympathy in his eyes. “You’re still very young,” he said, “and all you can see is the one reality that your baby has been taken from you. There are two kinds of reality, however. Garion is going to follow your child inthis reality. I’m going to follow him in the other. We’re all after the same thing and this way we cover all the possibilities.”
She stared at him for a moment, and then she suddenly covered her face with her hands and began to cry. Garion rose, went to her, and put her arms around her. “Ce’Nedra,” he said soothingly, “Ce’Nedra, it’s going to be All right.”
“Nothing will be All right,” she sobbed brokenly. “I’m so afraid for my baby, Garion. Nothing will ever be all right again.”
Mandorallen rose to his feet, tears standing in his eyes. “As I am thy true knight and champion, dearest Ce’Nedra, I vow upon my life that the villain Ulfgar will never see another summer.”
“That sort of gets to the point,” Hettar murmured. “Why don’t we all go to Rheon and nail Ulfgar to a post someplace -with very long nails?” Anheg looked at Cho-Hag. “Your son has a remarkably firm grasp of the realities of this situation,” he observed.
“He’s the delight of my twilight years,” Cho-Hag said proudly.
The argument with Ce’Nedra began immediately upon their return to the royal apartment. Garion tried reason first, then commands. Finally, he resorted to threats.
“I don’t care what you say, Garion, Iam going to Rheon.”
You arenot!”
“I amso!”
“I’ll have you locked in the bedroom.”
“And as soon as you leave, I’ll order someone to unlock the door -or I’ll chop it down- and I’ll be on the next boat out of the harbor.”
“Ce’Nedra, it’s too dangerous.”
“So was Thull Mardu -and Cthol Mishrak- and I didn’t flinch from either one. I’m going to Rheon, Garion -either with you or by myself. I’m going to get my baby back- even if I have to tear down the city walls with my bare hands.”
“Ce’Nedra, please.”
“No!” she exclaimed, stamping her foot. “I’m going, Garion, and nothing you can say or do is going to stop me!”
Garion threw his arms in the air. “Women!” he said in a despairing tone.
The fleet left at dawn the following morning, sailing out of the harbor into rough seas and the dirty scud and wrack of the tail-end of the storm.
Garion stood on the aft deck of theSeabird beside Barak, whose thick hands firmly grasped the tiller. “I didn’t think I was ever going to have to do this again,” he said morosely.
“Oh, sailing in rough weather isn’t all that bad.” Barak shrugged as the wind tossed his red beard.
“That’s not what I meant. I thought that after Torak died, I could live out my life in peace.”
“You got lucky,” Barak told him.
“Are you trying to be funny?”
“All anybody ever got out of peace was a fat behind and cobwebs in his head,” the big man said sagely. “Give me a nice friendly little war any time.”
When they were some leagues at sea, a detachment of ships separated from the fleet to sail due east toward Sendar, bearing with them King Fulrach, General Brendig, the Earl of Seline, and the heavily sedated Queen Layla.
“I hope Brendig gets to Darine on time,” Anheg said, standing at the rail. “I’m really going to need those ships during the search.”
“Where do you plan to start?” Queen Porenn asked him.
“The cult’s largely concentrated on the west coast,” he replied. “If Prince Geran’s abductors went to Cherek, they’d most likely head for a cult stronghold. I’ll start along the coast and work my way inland.”
“That seems like sound strategy.” she agreed. “Deploy your men and sweep the area.”
“Porenn,” he said with a pained look, “I love you like a sister, but please don’t use military terms when you talk to me. It sets my teeth on edge to hear that sort of language in a woman’s mouth.”
The passage through the Cherek Bore delayed them for two days. Although Greldik and a few other hardy souls were willing -even eager- to attempt the Great Maelstrom in the heavy seas that were the aftermath of the storm, cooler and more prudent heads prevailed.
“I’m sure the sea will quiet down in a bit,” Barak shouted across to his friend, “and Rheon isn’t going anyplace. Let’s not lose any ships if we don’t have to.”