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The Belgariad III: Magician’s Gambit by David Eddings

“The Book of Ulgo, ” she repeated. “I must remember that. As soon as I return to Tol Honeth, I’ll obtain a copy and deliver it to the Wood of the Dryads personally.” That, she thought, should satisfy him.

“I’m afraid that such copies as you’d find in Tol Honeth would be much corrupted,” the Gorim told her. “The tongue of my people is not easily understood by strangers, and translations are difficult.”

Ce’Nedra definitely felt that the dear old man was becoming just a bit tiresome about the whole thing.

“As is so often the case with scriptures,” he was saying, “our Holy Book is bound up in our history. The wisdom of the Gods is such that their instruction is concealed within stories. Our minds delight in the stories, and the messages of the Gods are implanted thus. All unaware, we are instructed even as we are entertained.”

Ce’Nedra was familiar with the theory. Master Jeebers, her tutor, had lectured her tediously concerning it. She cast about rather desperately, trying to find some graceful way to change the subject.

“Our story is very old,” the Gorim continued inexorably. “Would you like to hear it?”

Caught by her own cleverness, Ce’Nedra could only nod helplessly. And so the Gorim began: “At the Beginning of Days when the World was spun out of darkness by the wayward Gods, there dwelt in the silences of the heavens a spirit known only as UL.”

In utter dismay, Ce’Nedra realized that he fully intended to recite the entire book to her. After a few moments of chagrin, however, she began to feel the strangely compelling quality of his story. More than she would have cared to admit, she was moved by the first Gorim’s appeal to the indifferent spirit that appeared to him at Prolgu. What manner of man would thus dare to accuse a God?

As she listened, a faint flicker seemed to tug at the corner of her eye. She glanced toward it and saw a soft glow somewhere deep within the massive rocks that formed one of the walls of the chamber. The glow was peculiarly different from the dim light of the hanging crystal globes.

“Then the heart of Gorim was made glad,” the old man continued his recitation, “and he called the name of the high place where all this had come to pass Prolgu, which is Holy Place. And he departed from Prolgu and returned unto-”

“Ya! Garach tek, Gorim!” The words were spat out in the snarling Ulgo language, and the harsh voice that spoke them was filled with outrage.

Ce’Nedra jerked her head around to look at the intruder. Like all Ulgos, he was short, but his arms and shoulders were so massively developed that he seemed almost deformed. His colorless hair was tangled and unkempt. He wore a hooded leather smock, stained and smeared with some kind of mud, and his large black eyes burned with fanaticism. Crowded behind him were a dozen or more other Ulgos, their faces set in expressions of shock and righteous indignation. The fanatic in the leather smock continued his stream of crackling vituperation.

The Gorim’s face set, but he endured the abuse from the wild-eyed man at the door patiently. Finally, when the fanatic paused for breath, the frail old man turned to Belgarath. “This is Relg,” he said a bit apologetically. “You see what I mean about him? Trying to convince him of anything is impossible.”

“What use would he be to us?” Barak demanded, obviously irritated by the newcomer’s attitude. “He can’t even speak a civilized tongue.”

Relg glared at him. “I speak your language, foreigner,” he said with towering contempt, “but I choose not to defile the holy caverns with its unsanctified mouthings.” He turned back to Gorim. “Who gave you the right to speak the words of the Holy Book to unbelieving foreigners?” he demanded.

The gentle old Gorim’s eyes hardened slightly. “I think that’s about enough, Relg,” he said firmly. “Whatever idiocies you babble in out-of the-way galleries to those gullible enough to listen is your concern, but what you say to me in my house is mine. I am still Gorim in Ulgo, whatever you may think, and I am not required to answer to you.” He looked past Relg at the shocked faces of the zealot’s followers. “This is not a general audience,” he informed Relg. “You were summoned here; they were not. Send them away.”

“They came to be sure you intended me no harm,” Relg replied stiffly. “I have spoken the truth about you, and powerful men fear the truth.”

“Relg,” the Gorim said in an icy voice, “I don’t think you could even begin to realize how indifferent I am to anything you might have said about me. Now send them away – or would you rather have me do it?”

“They won’t obey you,” Relg sneered. “I am their leader.”

The Gorim’s eyes narrowed, and he rose to his feet. Then he spoke in the Ulgo tongue directly to Relg’s adherents. Ce’Nedra could not understand his words, but she did not really need to. She recognized the tone of authority instantly, and she was a bit startled at how absolutely the saintly old Gorim used it. Not even her father would have dared speak in that tone.

The men crowded behind Relg looked nervously at each other and began to back away, their faces frightened. The Gorim barked one final command, and Relg’s followers turned and fled.

Relg scowled after them and seemed for a moment on the verge of raising his voice to call them back, but apparently thought better of it. “You go too far, Gorim,” he accused. “That authority is not meant to be used in worldly matters.”

“That authority is mine, Relg,” the Gorim replied, “and it’s up to me to decide when it’s required. You’ve chosen to confront me on theological ground, therefore I needed to remind your followers – and you just who I am.”

“Why have you summoned me here?” Relg demanded. “The presence of these unsanctified ones is an affront to my purity.”

“I require your service, Relg,” the Gorim told him. “These strangers go to battle against our Ancient Foe, the one accursed above all others. The fate of the world hangs upon their quest, and your aid is needed.”

“What do I care about the world?” Relg’s voice was filled with contempt. “And what do I care about maimed Torak? I am safe within the hand of UL. He has need of me here, and I will not go from the holy caverns to risk defilement in the lewd company of unbelievers and monsters.”

“The entire world will be defiled if Torak gains dominion over it,” Belgarath pointed out, “and if we fail, Torak will become king of the world.”

“He will not reign in Ulgo,” Relg retorted.

“How little you know him,” Polgara murmured.

“I will not leave the caves,” Relg insisted. “The coming of the child is at hand, and I have been chosen to reveal him to Ulgo and to guide and instruct him until he is ready to become Gorim.”

“How interesting,” the Gorim observed dryly. “Just who was it who advised you of your election?”

“UL spoke to me,” Relg declared.

“Odd. The caverns respond universally to the voice of UL. All Ulgo would have heard his voice.”

“He spoke to me in my heart,” Relg replied quickly.

“What a curious thing for him to do,” the Gorim answered mildly.

“All of this is beside the point,” Belgarath said brusquely. “I’d prefer to have you join us willingly, Relg; but willing or not, you will join us. A power greater than any of us commands it. You can argue and resist as much as you like, but when we leave here, you’ll be going with us.”

Relg spat. “Never! I will remain here in the service of UL and of the child who will become Gorim of Ulgo. And if you try to compel me, my followers will not permit it.”

“Why do we need this blind mole, Beigarath?” Barak asked. “He’s just going to be an aggravation to us. I’ve noticed that men who spend all their time congratulating themselves on their sanctity tend to be very poor companions, and what can this one do that I can’t?”

Relg looked at the red-bearded giant with disdain. “Big men with big mouths seldom have big brains,” he said. “Watch closely, hairy one.” He walked over to the sloping wall of the chamber. “Can you do this?” he asked and slowly pushed his hand directly into the rock as if he were sinking it into water.

Silk whistled with amazement and moved quickly over to the wall beside the fanatic. As Relg pulled his hand out of the rock, Silk reached out to put his own hand on the precise spot. “How did you do that?” he demanded, shoving at the stones.

Relg laughed harshly and turned his back.

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