‘The what?’ Barak exclaimed.
‘You really should try to keep abreast of things, my dear Barak,’ Silk said, buffing his nails on the front of his tunic.
‘Silk,’ Eriond said reprovingly.
‘I’m sorry,’ Silk grinned. ‘I couldn’t resist. Can you find it in Your heart to forgive me, your Divinityship?’ He frowned. ‘That’s really very cumbersome, you know. What is the correct form of address?’
‘How about just Eriond?’
Relg had gone deathly pale and he almost instinctively fell to his knees.
‘Please don’t do that, Relg,’ Eriond told him. ‘After all, you’ve known me since I was just a little boy, haven’t you?’
‘But—’
‘Stand up, Relg,’ Eriond said, helping the Ulgo to his feet. ‘Oh, my Father sends his best, by the way.’
Relg looked awed.
‘Oh well,’ Silk said wryly, ‘we might as well get it out into the open, I suppose. Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘I’m sure you all remember the Margravine Liselle, my fiancée.’
‘Your fiancée?’ Barak exclaimed in amazement.
‘We all have to settle down sometime,’ Silk shrugged.
They gathered around to congratulate him. Velvet, however, did not look pleased.
‘Was something the matter, dear?’ Silk asked her, all innocence.
‘Don’t you think you’ve forgotten something, Kheldar?’ she asked acidly.
‘Not that I recall.’
‘You neglected to ask me about this first.’
‘Really? Did I actually forget that? You weren’t planning to refuse, were you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Well, then—’
‘You haven’t heard the last of this, Kheldar,’ she said ominously.
‘I seem to be getting off to a bad start here,’ he observed.
‘Very bad,’ she agreed.
They built a large bonfire in the amphitheater not too far from the huge carcass of the dragon. Durnik had rather shamefacedly translocated a sizable stack of driftwood in from various beaches here and there on the reef. Garion looked critically at the stack. ‘I seem to remember a number of very wet evenings when Eriond and I spent hours looking for dry firewood,’ he said to his old friend.
‘This is sort of a special occasion, Garion,’ Durnik explained apologetically. ‘Besides, if you’d have wanted it done this way, you could have done it yourself, couldn’t you?’
Garion stared at him, then he suddenly laughed. ‘Yes, Durnik,’ he admitted, ‘I suppose I could have at that. I don’t know that we have to tell Eriond, though.’
‘Do you really think he doesn’t know?’
They talked until quite late. A great deal had happened since they had last seen each other, and they all had a lot of catching up to do. Finally, one by one, they drifted off to sleep.
It was still a few hours before dawn when Garion came suddenly awake.
It was not a sound had awakened him, but a light. It was a single beam of intense blue that bathed the amphitheater in its radiance, and it was soon joined by others that streamed down from the night sky in great glowing columns, red and yellow and green and shades for which there were no names. The columns stood in a semi-circle not far from the edge of the water, and there in the center of their rainbow-hued light, the pristine white albatross hovered on seraphlike wings. The incandescent forms Garion had seen before at Cthol Mishrak began to appear in the columns of pure light. Aldur and Mara, Issa and Nedra, Chaldan and Belar, the Gods stood, their faces filled with the joy of welcome.
‘It’s time,’ Poledra sighed from where she sat enfolded in Belgarath’s arms. She firmly took his arms from about her shoulders and rose to her feet.
‘No,’ Belgarath protested in an anguished tone, his eyes filled with tears. ‘There’s time yet.’
‘You knew this was going to happen, Old Wolf,’ she said gently. ‘It has to be this way, you know.’
‘I’m not going to lose you twice,’ he declared. He also rose. ‘There’s no longer any meaning to any of this.’ He looked at his daughter. ‘Pol,’ he said.
‘Yes, father,’ she replied, rising to her feet with Durnik at her side.
‘You’ll have to look after things now. Beldin and Durnik and the twins will help you.’
‘Will you orphan me in one single stroke, father?’ Her voice was throbbing with unshed tears.
‘You’re strong enough to bear it, Pol. Your mother and I are not displeased with you. Be well.’
‘Don’t be foolish, Belgarath,’ Poledra said firmly.
‘I’m not. I won’t live without you again.’
‘It’s not permitted.’
‘It can’t be prevented. Not even our Master can prevent me now. You won’t leave alone, Poledra. I’m going with you.’ He put his arms about his wife’s shoulders and looked deeply into her golden eyes. ‘It’s better this way.’
‘As you decide, my husband,’ she said finally. ‘We must act now, however, before UL arrives. He can prevent it, no matter how much you bend your will to its accomplishment.’
Then Eriond was there. ‘Have you really considered this, Belgarath?’ He said.
‘Many times in the last three thousand years, yes. I had to wait for Garion, though. Now he’s here, and there’s nothing to hold me any longer.’
‘What would make you change your mind?’
‘Nothing. I won’t be separated from her again.’
‘Then I’ll have to see to that, I suppose.’
‘That’s forbidden, Eriond,’ Poledra objected. ‘I agreed to this when my task was laid upon me.’
‘Agreements are always subject to renegotiation, Poledra,’ he said. ‘Besides, my Father and my brothers neglected to advise me of Their decision, so I’ll have to deal with the situation without Their advice.’
‘You can’t defy your father’s will,’ she objected.
‘But I don’t know my father’s will as yet. I’ll apologize, of course. I’m sure he won’t be too angry with me, and no one stays angry forever – not even my father – and no decision is irrevocable. If necessary, I’ll remind him of the change of heart he had at Prolgu when Gorim persuaded him to relent.’
‘That sounds awfully familiar,’ Barak murmured to Hettar. ‘It looks as if the new God of Angarak has spent a little too much time with our Prince Kheldar.’