“What do you believe, Kal Zakath?” Velvet asked him.
“What I can see and touch ‑and precious little else.”
“So great a skepticism,” she murmured. “Then you do not accept one single out‑of‑the‑ordinary thing?”
“Not that I can think of, no.”
“Not even the peculiar gift of the Seers at Kell? It’s been fairly well documented, you know.”
He frowned slightly. “Yes,” he admitted, “as a matter of fact, it has.”
“How can you document a vision?” Garion asked curiously.
“The Grolims were seeking to discredit the Seers,” Zakath replied. “They felt that the easiest way to do that Was to have these pronouncements about the future written down and then wait to see what happened. The bureaucracy was instructed to keep records. So far, not one of the predictions of the Seers has proven false.”
“Then you do believe that the Seers have the ability to know things about the past and the present and the future in ways that the rest of us might not completely understand?” Velvet pressed.
Zakath pursed his lips. “ All right, Margravine,” he said reluctantly, “I’ll concede that the Seers have certain abilities that haven’t been explained as yet.”
“Do you believe that a Seer could lie to you?”
“Good girl,” Belgarath murmured approvingly.
“No,” Zakath replied after a moment’s thought. “A Seer is incapable of lying. Their truthfulness is proverbial.”
“Well, then,” she said with a dimpled smile, “all you need to do to find out if what we’ve told you is the truth is to send for a Seer, isn’t it?”
“Liselle,” Garion protested, “that could take weeks. We don’t have that much time.”
“Oh,” she said, “I don’t think it would take all that long. If I remember correctly, Lady Polgara said that Andel summoned Cyradis when his Majesty here lay dying. I’m fairly sure we could persuade her to do it for us again.”
“Well, Zakath,” Belgarath said. “Will you agree to accept what Cyradis tells you as the truth?”
The Emperor squinted at him suspiciously, searching for some kind of subterfuge. “You’ve manipulated me into a corner,” he accused. He thought about it. “All right, Belgarath,” he said finally. “I’ll accept whatever Cyradis says as the truth ‑if you’ll agree to do the same.” “Done then,” Belgarath said. “Let’s send for Andel and get on with this.”
As Velvet stepped out into the hall to speak with one of the guards who trailed along behind the Emperor wherever he went, Zakath leaned back in his chair. “I can’t believe that I’m even considering all the wild impossibilities you’ve been telling me,” he said.
Garion exchanged a quick look with his grandfather, and then they both laughed.
“Something funny, gentlemen?”
“Just a family joke, Zakath,” Belgarath told him. “Garion and I have been discussing the possible and the impossible since he was about nine years old. He was even more stubborn about it than you are.”
“It gets easier to accept after the first shock wears off,” Garion added. “It’s sort of like swimming in very cold water. Once you get numb, it doesn’t hurt quite so much.”
It was not long until Velvet reentered the room with the hooded Andel at her side.
“I believe you said that the Seeress of Kell is your mistress, Andel,” Zakath said to her.
“Yes, she is, your Majesty.”
“Can you summon her?”
“Her semblance, your Majesty, if there is need and if she will consent to come.”
“I believe there’s a need, Andel. Belgarath has told me certain things that I have to have confirmed. I know that Cyradis speaks only the truth. Belgarath, on the other hand, has a more dubious reputation.” He threw a rather sly, sidelong glance at the old man.
Belgarath grinned at him and winked.
“I will speak with my mistress, your Majesty,” Andel said, “and entreat her to send her semblance here. Should she consent, I beg of you to ask your questions quickly. The effort of reaching half around the world exhausts her, and she is not robust.” Then the Dalasian woman knelt reverently and lowered her head, and Garion once again heard that peculiar murmur as of many voices, followed by a long moment of silence. Again there was that same shimmer in the air; when it had cleared, the hooded and blindfolded form of Cyradis stood there.
“We thank you for coming, Holy Seeress,” Zakath said to her in an oddly respectful tone of voice.” My guests here have told me certain things that I am loath to believe, but I have agreed to accept whatever you can confirm.”
“I will tell thee what I can, Zakath,” she replied. “Some things are hidden from me, and some others may not yet be revealed.”
“I understand the limitations, Cyradis. Belgarion tells me that Urgit, the King of the Murgos, is not of the blood of Taur Urgas. Is this true?”
“It is,” she replied simply. “King Urgit’s father was an Alorn.”
“Are any of the sons of Taur Urgas still alive?”
“Nay, Zakath. The line of Taur Urgas became extinct some twelve years ago when his last son was strangled in a cellar in Rak Goska upon the command of Oskatat, King Urgit’s Seneschal.”
Zakath sighed and shook his head sadly. “And so it has ended,” he said. “My enemy’s line passed unnoticed from this world in a dark cellar ‑passed so quietly that I could not even rejoice that they were gone, nor curse the ones who stole them from my grasp.”
“Revenge is a hollow thing, Zakath.”
“It’s the only thing I’ve had for almost thirty years now.” He sighed again, then straightened his shoulders. “Did Zandramas really steal Belgarion’s son?”
“She did, and now she carries him to the Place Which Is No More.”
“And where’s that?”
Her face grew very still. “I may not reveal that,” she replied finally, “but the Sardion is there.”
“Can you tell me what the Sardion is?”
“It is one half of the stone which was divided.”
“Is it really all that important?”
“In all of Angarak there is no thing of greater worth. The Grolims all know this. Urvon would give all his wealth for it. Zandramas would abandon the adoration of multitudes for it. Mengha would give his soul for it -indeed, he hath done so already in his enlistment of demons to aid him. Even Agachak, Hierarch of Rak Urga, would abandon his ascendancy in Cthol Murgos to possess it.”
“How is it that a thing of such value has escaped my notice?”
“Thine eyes are on worldly matters, Zakath. The Sardion is not of this world ‑no more than the other half of the divided stone is of this world.”
“The other half?”
“ That which the Angaraks call Cthrag Yaska and the men of the West call the Orb of Aldur. Cthrag Sardius and Cthrag Yaska were sundered in the moment which saw the birth of the opposing necessities.”
Zakath’s face had grown quite pale, and he clasped his hands tightly in front of him to control their trembling.
“It’s all true, then?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
“All, Kal Zakath. All.”
“Even that Belgarion and Zandramas are the Child of Light and the Child of Dark?”
“Yes, they are.”
He started to ask her another question, but she raised her hand. “My time is short, Zakath, and I must now reveal something of greater import unto thee, Know that thy life doth approach a momentous crossroads. Put aside thy lust for power and thy hunger for revenge, as they are but childish toys. Return thou even to Mal Zeth to prepare thyself for thy part in the meeting which is to come.”
“My part?” He sounded startled.
“Thy name and thy task are written in the stars.”
“And what is this task?”
“I will instruct thee when thou art ready to understand what it is that thou must do. First thou must cleanse thy heart of that grief and remorse which hath haunted thee.”
His face grew still, and he sighed. “I’m afraid not, Cyradis,” he said. “What you ask is quite impossible.”
“Then thou wilt surely die before the seasons turn again. Consider what I have told thee, and consider it well, Emperor of Mallorea. I will speak with thee anon.” And then she shimmered and vanished.
Zakath stared at the empty spot where she had stood.
His face was pale, and his jaws were set.
“Well, Zakath?” Belgarath said. “Are you convinced?”
The Emperor rose from his chair and began to pace up and down. “This is an absolute absurdity!” he burst out suddenly in an agitated voice.
“I know,” Belgarath replied calmly, “but a willingness to believe the absurd is an indication of faith. It might just be that faith is the first step in the preparation Cyradis mentioned.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to believe, Belgarath,” Zakath said, in a strangely humble tone. “It’s just‑“
“Nobody said that it was going to be easy,” the old man told him. “ But you’ve done things before that weren’t easy, haven’t you?”