“Must it be so, Master?” Polgara asked in a voice that clearly revealed her reluctance.
“It must, my daughter,” Aldur replied sadly.
Polgara sighed. “Then so be it, Master.” She extended her left hand, and the God enclosed it in his. The gathering-in of her will roared in Garion’s mind like a tornado, and the force of it pushed against him with an awful power. Enclosed in blue light and linked by their touching hands, Polgara and Aldur stood side by side on the surface of the water, facing the hideous demon who still held the weakly struggling Cha-bat high in the air.
“I abjure thee, creature of darkness,” Polgara said in a great voice. “Return to the hell that spawned thee and never more corrupt this world by thy foul presence. Begone and take with thee the one who summoned thee.” She raised her hand, and the force of her will, combined with the will of the God Aldur, blazed forth from her palm. There was a vast thunderclap as the demon suddenly exploded into a huge ball of fire with the waters of the harbor geysering up around it.
‘Then he was gone, and with him disappeared the priestess
When Garion looked back, Aldur no longer stood at Polgara’s side. She turned and slowly walked back across the “^waves toward the quay. As she approached, Garion clearly saw that her eyes were filled with anguish.
Part Three
THE ISLE OF VERKAT
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The barren coast of the Urga peninsula slid by on their left the following morning as the Murgo scow beat steadily southward with a good following breeze. Cliffs rose sharply out of the crashing surf, and there was only the scantiest of vegetation to break the monotony of the desolation of rust-colored rock. The autumn sky was a deep, chill blue, but the sun stood far to the north, for winter came early to these extreme southern latitudes.
Garion, as he always did when he was at sea, had risen at first light of day and gone up on deck. He stood at the rail amidships, half-bemused by the sparkle of the morning sun on the waves and by the steady creak and roll of the vessel under his feet.
The slanting door that opened onto the short flight of steps leading down to the aft companionway creaked, and Durnik came out on deck, bracing himself against the awkward roll of the ship and squinting in the bright sunlight. The smith wore his usual plain brown tunic, and his face was somber.
Garion crossed the deck to his friend’s side. “Is she all right?” he asked.
“She’s very tired,” Durnik replied wearily. His own nearly exhausted face clearly showed that he had slept very little himself. “She tossed and fretted for a long time before she finally went to sleep last night. That was a terrible thing she had to do.”
“Did she talk to you about it at all?”
“Some. The demon had to be sent back to where he came from. Otherwise he’d have spread horror and death across the whole world. Since Chabat summoned him, he could have used her as a doorway to come into this world any time he wanted to. That’s why Chabat had to go with him—to close that doorway.”
“Exactly where do they come from—demons, I mean?”
“She didn’t say very much about that, but I got the feeling that I wouldn’t really want to know about it.”
“Is she sleeping now?”
Durnik nodded. “I’m going to go talk with the ship’s cook. I want to have something hot for her to eat when she wakes up.”
“You’d better get some sleep yourself.”
“Perhaps. Would you excuse me, Garion? I don’t want to stay away too long—just in case she wakes up and needs me.” He went on forward toward the ship’s galley.
Garion straightened and looked around. The Murgo sailors worked with fearful looks on their faces. What had taken place the previous afternoon had washed away all traces of the stiff arrogance that usually marked a Murgo’s expression, and they all cast frightened, sidelong glances at every one of their passengers, as if expecting them to turn into – ogres or sea monsters without any warning.
Silk and Urgit had emerged from the companionway door while Garion and Durnik had been talking and stood at the rail near the stern, idly watching the bubbly wake tracing its path across the dark green swells and the white-winged gulls screeching and hovering in a greedy cloud behind them. Gar-ion moved a bit closer, but did not actually join them.
“Uninviting sort of place,” Silk observed, looking at the stark cliffs rising from the sea. The little man had discarded the shabby clothing he had worn when they had begun this journey and he now wore a plain, unadorned gray doublet.
Urgit grunted morosely. Idly, he tossed chunks of stale bread into their wake, watching without much interest as the squawking gulls trailing the ship swooped down to fight over them. “Kheldar,” he said, “does she do that all the time?”
“Who’s that?”
“Polgara.” Urgit shuddered. “Does she obliterate everybody who displeases her?”
“No,” Silk replied. “Polgara doesn’t do that—none of them do. It’s not allowed.”
“I’m sorry, Kheldar. Allowed or not, I know what I saw yesterday.”
“I talked to Belgarath about it,” Silk told him, “and he explained it. Chabat and the demon weren’t actually destroyed. They were just sent back to the place where the demon came from. The demon absolutely had to be sent back; unfortunately, Chabat had to go with him.”
“Unfortunately? I didn’t feel all that much sympathy for her.”
“I don’t think you quite understand, Urgit. Killing somebody is one thing, but destroying someone’s soul is quite something else. That’s what made Polgara miserable. She was forced to condemn Chabat to eternal pain and horror. That’s the most terrible thing anybody can be forced to do.”
“Who was that who came up out of the water with her?”
“Aldur.”
“You’re not serious!”
“Oh, yes. I’ve seen him once or twice. It was Aldur, all right.”
“A God? Here? What was he doing?”
“He had to be here.” Silk shrugged. “No human, however powerful, can face a demon unaided. When the magicians of the Morindim raise a demon, they always are very careful to set rigid limits on him. Chabat just unleashed hers without any limits at all. Only a God can deal with a demon with that kind of freedom; and since the Gods work through us, Polgara had to be involved as well. It was a very tricky business.”
Urgit shuddered. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to deal with this.”
They stood side by side, leaning on the rail and looking out at the long waves rolling in off the Great Western Sea to crash against the barren cliffs. As Garion looked at the two of them, he wondered how it had been possible for anyone to miss the relationship. Although they were not exactly identical, their features were so much alike that there could be no doubt they were brothers.
“Kheldar,” Urgit said finally, “what was our father really like?”
“He was taller than either of us,” Silk replied, “and very distinguished-looking. His hair was son of iron-gray, and this nose we’ve all got made him look more like an eagle than a rat.”
“We do look a bit like rodents, don’t we?” Urgit agreed with a brief smile. “That’s not what I meant, though. What was he really like?”
“Polished. He had exquisite manners, and he was very civilized and urbane. I never heard him use a harsh word to anyone.” Silk’s face was melancholy.
“But he was deceitful, wasn’t he?”
“What makes you say that?”
“He did cheat, after all. I’m not the product of any sort of lasting fidelity.”
“You don’t exactly understand,” Silk disagreed. He looked thoughtfully out at the green swells topped by an occasional whitecap. “For all his polish, our father was very much an adventurer. He’d accept any challenge—just for the fun involved—and he had an insatiable wanderlust. He was always looking for something new. I think that when you put the two of those traits together, you might begin to understand exactly why he was attracted to your mother. I visited the palace in Rak Goska when Taur Urgas was still alive. His wives were all either closely guarded or kept under lock and key. It was the sort of thing our father would have viewed as a challenge.”
Urgit made a sour face. “You aren’t bolstering my ego very much, Kheldar. I’m here because a Drasnian gentleman liked to pick locks.”
“Not entirely. I didn’t have much chance to talk with your mother about it, but I gather that she and our father were genuinely fond of each other. Taur Urgas was never fond of anyone. At least our father and your mother were having fun.”
“Maybe that explains my sunny disposition.”