“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 drowsily 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 a 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
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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.”
“They didn’t make any sense, Garion. They just kept jumping around. It was almost as if someone were moving me from place to place for some reason of her own.”
“Her? Was this someone a woman?”
“Did I say ‘her’? I can’t imagine why. I never saw this person.” Ce’Nedra yawned again. “I hope whoever it was got finished with it, though. I’d rather not go through another night like that.” Then she gave him a sly, sidelong glance through her eyelashes. ‘ ‘There were some parts of the dream that were rather nice, though,” she said. “Once we were sitting by that pool back at Riva. Do you want to know what we were doing?”
A slow blush crept up Garion’s neck. “Uh, no, Ce’Nedra. I don’t really think so.”
But she told him anyway—in great detail—until he finally fled from the tent.
Her restless night increased the peculiar lassitude that had lain on her since they had left Kell, and she rode that morning in a half doze that, try though she might, she could not seem to shake off. Garion spoke with her several times to warn her that she was allowing her horse to stray, and then, apparently seeing that she just couldn’t keep her eyes open, he took her reins from her hands and led her horse.
About midmorning, Beldin rejoined them. “I think you’d better take cover,” he tersely told Belgarath. “There’s a Darshivan patrol coming along this trail.”
“Are they searching for us?”
“Who knows? If they are, they’re not being very serious
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about it. Go back into the woods for a couple hundred yards and let them ride on by. I’ll keep an eye on them and let you know when they’ve passed.”
“All right.” Belgarath turned aside from the trail and led the rest of them back into the concealment of the forest.
They dismounted and waited tensely. Soon they heard the jingling of the soldiers’ equipment as they rode along the forest trail at a trot.
Even in this potentially dangerous situation, Ce’Nedra simply could not keep her eyes open. Dimly she could hear the whispered conversations of the others until she finally dozed oif again.
And then she came awake—or at least partially so. She was walking alone through the forest, her mind all bemused. She knew that she should be alarmed at being separated from the others, but oddly, she was not. She walked on, not so much going anywhere m particular as following some sort of subtle summoning.
Then at last she reached a grassy clearing and saw a tall blond girl standing among the wildftowers and holding a blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms. The girl’s blond braids were coiled at her temples, and her complexion was like new milk. It was Brand’s niece, Arell. “Good morning, your Majesty,” she greeted the Queen of Riva. “IVe been waiting for you.”
Something deep in Ce’Nedra’s mind tried to scream at her that this was wrong—that the tall Rivan girl could not possibly be here. But Ce’Nedra could not remember why, and the moment passed. “Good morning, Arell,” she said to her dear friend. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I came to help you, Ce’Nedra. Look at what IVe found.” She turned back the comer of the blanket to reveal a tiny face.
“My baby!” Ce’Nedra exclaimed, almost overcome with joy. She ran forward, her arms extended hungrily, and took the sleeping infant from her friend and held him to her body, her cheek pressed against his soft curls. “How did you possibly find him?” she asked Arell. “WeVe been looking for him for the longest time now.”
“I was traveling alone through this forest,” Arell replied, “and I thought I smelled the smoke of a campfire. I went to investigate and I found a tent set up beside a little stream. I looked inside the tent, and there was Prince Geran. There was no one else around, so I picked him up and came looking for you.”
Ce’Nedra’s mind was still trying to scream at her, but she
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was too deliriously happy to pay any attention. She held her baby, rocking back and forth and crooning to him.
“Where is King Belgarion?” Arell asked.
“Back there someplace.” Ce’Nedra gestured vaguely.
“You should go to him and let him know that his son is safe.”
“Yes. He’ll be very happy.”
“I have something that I really have to attend to, Ce’Nedra,” Arell said. “Do you think you’ll be able to find your way back alone?”
“Oh, I’m sure I could, but couldn’t you come along? His Majesty is sure to want to reward you for restoring our son to
us.”
Arell smiled. “The happiness on your face is all the reward I need, and this matter I must take care of is extremely important. I may be able to join you later, however. Which way will you be traveling?”
“South, I think,” Ce’Nedra replied. “We have to get to the seacoast.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. We’re going to an island—Perivor, I think the name is.”
“There’s supposed to be a meeting of some kind very soon, isn’t there? Is Perivor the place where it’s going to happen?”
“Oh, no.” Ce’Nedra laughed, still cuddling her baby. “We’re just going to Perivor to get some more information about it. We’ll be going on from there.”
” I may not be able to join you at Perivor,” Arell said, frowning slightly. “Perhaps you could tell me where the meeting’s supposed to take place. I’m sure I’ll be able to meet you there.”
“Let me see,” Ce’Nedra pondered. “What did they call it? Oh, now I remember. It’s someplace that’s called Korim.”
“Korim?” Arell exclaimed in astonishment.
“Yes. Belgarath seemed dreadfully upset when he first found out about it, but Cyradis told him that everything would be all right. That’s why we have to go to Perivor. Cyradis says that there’s something there that will make everything clear. It seems to me that she said something about a chart or something.” She laughed a bit giddily. “To be honest with you, Arell, IVe been so sleepy for the last few days that I can barely keep track of what the people around me are saying.”
“Of course,” Arell said absendy, her face creased in thought. ‘ ‘Why would Perivor be the key?” she mused to herself.’ ‘What could possibly be there to explain an absurdity? Are you abso-