The Belgariad 4: Castle of Wizardry by David Eddings

“Very nicely put, Ariana,” Adara murmured without any hint of a smile.

“Oh dear.” Queen Layla sighed. “Now I have two more to worry about.”

“I think that covers everything, then,” Polgara said. “Running a kingdom isn’t all that much different from running a house, and you’ve all had experience at that. Don’t change any major policies, and don’t sign any treaties. Aside from that, just let yourselves be guided by common sense. I think we can join the gentlemen now. It’s getting on toward suppertime, and men tend to grow restless if they aren’t fed regularly.”

A few days later, Barak returned to Riva, accompanied by a leanfaced Drasnian nobleman. The two of them immediately went to the council chamber to report to the kings. Princess Ce’Nedra considered following them into the conference, but decided against it. Her presence might inhibit the discussion, and she had another way to find out what was going on. She retired quickly to her rooms and touched her fingertips to the amulet at her throat.

“-going fairly well,” she heard Barak’s voice say after she had finally located the conversation she wished to hear. “The fleet’s ready to move out of Val Alorn, and Queen Porenn’s got the Drasnian pikemen gathering just south of Boktor. The mobilization’s very nearly complete. I think we’ve got some problems, though. Count Kharel here has just returned from Thull Mardu. All the reports out of northern Cthol Murgos have been channeled to him, so he can give us a fairly clear assessment of the situation there.”

King Rhodar cleared his throat. “Kharel’s a very senior member of the intelligence service,” he said by way of introduction. “I’ve always found his reports to be extremely accurate.”

“Your Majesty is too kind,” an unfamiliar voice responded.

“Have the southern Murgos begun their march north?” King Anheg asked.

“It goes a bit farther than that, your Majesty,” Kharel replied. “All reports I have indicate that the march is nearly completed. There are somewhat in excess of four million of them encamped in the vicinity of Rak Goska.”

“What?” Anheg exclaimed.

“It appears that Taur Urgas began the march sometime last fall,” the Drasnian told him.

“In the winter?”

“It seems so, your Majesty.”

“I imagine that cost him a few of his men,” King Cho-Hag said. “A hundred thousand or so, your Majesty,” Kharel answered, “but human life doesn’t mean that much to Taur Urgas.”

“This changes everything, Rhodar,” Anheg said tersely. “Our advantage has always been the time that march was going to take. We’ve lost it now.”

“Unfortunately there’s more, your Majesty,” Kharel continued. “The western Malloreans have begun to arrive at Thull Zelik. Their numbers aren’t really that significant yet, but they’re ferrying in several thousand a day.”

“We’ve got to cut that off as quickly as we can,” Anheg growled. “Rhodar, can you get your engineers to the eastern escarpment within a month? I’m going to have to portage a fleet across to the headwaters of the River Mardu. We’ve got to get ships into the Sea of the East as soon as possible. If we don’t head off Zakath, his Malloreans will swarm us under.”

“I’ll send word to Porenn immediately,” Rhodar agreed.

“One wonders if the noble count has any good news,” the Earl of Seline suggested dryly.

“There is some possibility of division in the enemy ranks, my Lord,” Kharel replied. “Taur Urgas is behaving as if he considers himself the only possible choice as overgeneral of the Angarak armies; at the moment, he’s got the advantage of numbers on his side. That may change if the Malloreans manage to land a big enough army. There are rumors that ‘Zakath would like to dispute the leadership of Taur Urgas, but he’s reluctant to try it in the face of four million Murgos.”

“Let’s try to keep it that way,” Rhodar said. “Taur Urgas is insane, and crazy men make mistakes. I’ve heard about ‘Zakath, and I’d rather not face him in the field.”

King Cho-Hag spoke wryly. “Even as it stands without the Malloreans, we’re going to be taking the field at about a two to one disadvantage – and that’s assuming that we can persuade the Arends and Tolnedrans to join us.”

“It’s a rotten way to start a war, Rhodar,” Anheg complained.

“We’ll just have to adjust our tactics,” Rhodar replied. “We’ve got to avoid a pitched battle as long as possible to save as many men as we can.”

“I thought we weren’t even considering a battle,” Barak objected, “and Belgarath said that all he wants is a diversion.”

“The situation’s changed, Barak,” King Rhodar declared. “We hadn’t counted on the southern Murgos or the Malloreans being in place this soon. We’re going to have to do something a bit more significant than stage a few hit-and-run attacks. The Angaraks have enough men now to be able to ignore minor raids and skirmishes. If we don’t make a major thrust – and very soon they’ll spread out all over the eastern half of the continent.”

“Belgarath doesn’t like it when you change plans on him,” Anheg reminded Rhodar.

“Belgarath isn’t here, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. If we don’t act rather decisively, he and Belgarion and Kheldar haven’t a hope of getting through.”

“You’re talking about a war we can’t win, Rhodar,” Anheg said bluntly.

“I know,” King Rhodar admitted.

There was a long silence.

“So that’s the way it is, then,” Brand said finally.

“I’m afraid so,” Rhodar told them somberly. “There has to be a diversion, or Belgarion and his sword will never get to the meeting with Torak. That’s the only thing that really matters, and we’ll all have to lay down our lives if necessary to make it happen.”

“You’re going to get us all killed, Rhodar,” Anheg said bluntly, “and all our armies with us.”

“If that’s what it takes, Anheg,” Rhodar answered grimly. “If Belgarion doesn’t get to Torak, our lives don’t mean anything, anyway. Even if we all have to die to get him there, it’s still worth it.”

Ce’Nedra’s fingertips slid numbly from her amulet as she fell back in her chair. Suddenly she began to weep. “I won’t do it,” she sobbed. “I can’t.” She saw before her a multitude – an army of widows and orphans all staring accusingly at her, and she shrank from their eyes. If she perpetrated this horror, the rest of her life would be spent in an agony of self loathing. Still weeping, she stumbled to her feet, fully intending to rush to the council chamber and declare that she would have nothing further to do with this futile war. But then she stopped as the image of Garion’s face rose in her mind – that serious face with the unruly hair she always wanted to straighten. He depended on her. If she shrank from this, the Angaraks would be free to hunt him down. His very life – and with it the future of the world – was in her hands. She had no choice but to continue. If only she did not know that the campaign was doomed! It was the knowledge of the disaster that awaited them that made it all so terrible.

Knowing that it was useless, she began to tug at the chain that held the amulet about her neck. Had it not been for the amulet, she would have remained blissfully ignorant of what lay ahead. Still sobbing, she yanked frantically at the chain, ignoring the sting as it cut into the soft skin of her neck. “I hate you!” she blurted irrationally at the silver amulet with its crowned tree.

But it was useless. The medallion would remain chained about her neck for the rest of her life. Ashen-faced, Ce’Nedra let her hands drop. Even if she were able to remove the amulet, what good would it do? She already knew and she must conceal the knowledge in her heart. If the faintest hint of what she knew showed in her face or her voice, she would fail – and Garion would suffer for her failure. She must steel herself and face the world as if certain of victory.

And so it was that the Rivan Queen drew herself erect and bravely lifted her chin – even though her heart lay like lead in her breast.

Chapter Twenty-five

BARAK’S NEW SHIP was larger by half than most of the other Cherek warboats in the fleet, but she moved before the spring breeze like a gull skimming low over the water. Fleecy white clouds ran across the blue sky, and the surface of the Sea of the Winds sparkled in the sunlight as the great ship heeled over and cut cleanly through the waves. Low on the horizon before them rose the green shoreline of the hook of Arendia. They were two days out from Riva, and the Cherek fleet spread out behind them in a vast crowd of sails, carrying the graycloaked Rivans to join the armies of King Fulrach of Sendaria.

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