so."
Belgarath shrugged. "That's far enough. They'll give up when we get to Morindland."
"What if they don't?"
"Have you been spending time with Polgara lately?" Belgarath asked dryly. "I thought I'd gotten away from all the 'what-ifs."'
Beldin shrugged, a gesture made grotesque by the hump on his back. "I saw her last week," he reported.
"She has some interesting plans for you, you know."
"She came to the Vale?" Belgarath sounded surprised.
"Passed through. She was with the red-haired girl's army."
Garion threw off his blanket. "With whose army?" he demanded.
"What's going on down there?" Belgarath asked sharply.
Beldin scratched at his tangled hair. "I never really got the straight of it," he admitted. "All I know is that the Alorns are following that little redheaded Tolnedran. She calls herself the Rivan Queen - whatever that means."
"Ce'Nedra?" Garion was incredulous, though, for some reason, he knew that he shouldn't be.
"I guess she went through Arendia like a pestilence," Beldin continued. "After she passed, there wasn't an able-bodied man left in the kingdom. Then she went on down into Tolnedra and goaded her father into convulsions - I didn't know that he was subject to fits."
"It crops up in the Borune line once in a while," Belgarath said. "It's nothing all that serious, but they try to keep it quiet."
"Anyway," the hunchback went on, "while Ran Borune was still frothing at the mouth, his daughter stole his legions. She's persuaded about half the world to take up arms and follow her." He gave Garion a quizzical look. "You're supposed to marry her, aren't you?"
Garion nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Beldin grinned suddenly. "You might want to give some thought to running away."
"Ce'Nedra?" Garion blurted again.
"His wits seem a bit scrambled," Beldin observed.
"He's been under a strain, and his nerves aren't too good just now," Belgarath replied. "Are you going back to the Vale?"
Beldin nodded. "The twins and I are going to join Polgara when the campaign starts. She might need some help if the Grolims come at her in force."
"Campaign?" Belgarath exclaimed. "What campaign? I told them just to march up and down and make a lot of noise. I specifically told them not to invade."
"They ignored you, it seems. Alorns aren't noted for restraint in such matters. Apparently they got together and decided to take steps. The fat one seems fairly intelligent. He wants to get a Cherek fleet into the Sea of the East to commit a few constructive atrocities on Mallorean shipping. The rest of it seems to be pretty much diversionary."
Belgarath started to swear. "You can't let them out of your sight for a single instant," he raged. "How could Polgara lend herself to this idiocy?"
"The plan does have a certain merit, Belgarath. The more Malloreans they drown now, the fewer we have to fight later."
"We never planned to fight them, Beldin. The Angaraks won't unite unless Torak comes back to weld them together again - or unless they're faced with a common enemy. We just talked with Drosta lek Thun, the Nadrak King, and he's so sure that the Murgos and the Malloreans are about to go to war with each other that he wants to ally himself with the west just to get clear of it. When you get back, see if you can talk some sense into Rhodar and Anheg. I've got enough problems already."
"Your problems are only starting, Belgarath. The twins had a visitation a couple of days ago."
"A what?"
Beldin shrugged. "What else would you call it? They were working on something - quite unrelated to all this - and the pair of them suddenly went into a trance and began to babble at me. At first they were just repeating that gibberish from the Mrin Codex - you know the place - where the Mrin Prophet's mind broke down and he degenerated into animal noises for a while. Anyway, they went back over that part - only this time it came out coherently."
"What did they say?" Belgarath demanded, his eyes burning.
"Are you sure you want to
Belgarath shrugged. "That's far enough. They'll give up when we get to Morindland."
"What if they don't?"
"Have you been spending time with Polgara lately?" Belgarath asked dryly. "I thought I'd gotten away from all the 'what-ifs."'
Beldin shrugged, a gesture made grotesque by the hump on his back. "I saw her last week," he reported.
"She has some interesting plans for you, you know."
"She came to the Vale?" Belgarath sounded surprised.
"Passed through. She was with the red-haired girl's army."
Garion threw off his blanket. "With whose army?" he demanded.
"What's going on down there?" Belgarath asked sharply.
Beldin scratched at his tangled hair. "I never really got the straight of it," he admitted. "All I know is that the Alorns are following that little redheaded Tolnedran. She calls herself the Rivan Queen - whatever that means."
"Ce'Nedra?" Garion was incredulous, though, for some reason, he knew that he shouldn't be.
"I guess she went through Arendia like a pestilence," Beldin continued. "After she passed, there wasn't an able-bodied man left in the kingdom. Then she went on down into Tolnedra and goaded her father into convulsions - I didn't know that he was subject to fits."
"It crops up in the Borune line once in a while," Belgarath said. "It's nothing all that serious, but they try to keep it quiet."
"Anyway," the hunchback went on, "while Ran Borune was still frothing at the mouth, his daughter stole his legions. She's persuaded about half the world to take up arms and follow her." He gave Garion a quizzical look. "You're supposed to marry her, aren't you?"
Garion nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Beldin grinned suddenly. "You might want to give some thought to running away."
"Ce'Nedra?" Garion blurted again.
"His wits seem a bit scrambled," Beldin observed.
"He's been under a strain, and his nerves aren't too good just now," Belgarath replied. "Are you going back to the Vale?"
Beldin nodded. "The twins and I are going to join Polgara when the campaign starts. She might need some help if the Grolims come at her in force."
"Campaign?" Belgarath exclaimed. "What campaign? I told them just to march up and down and make a lot of noise. I specifically told them not to invade."
"They ignored you, it seems. Alorns aren't noted for restraint in such matters. Apparently they got together and decided to take steps. The fat one seems fairly intelligent. He wants to get a Cherek fleet into the Sea of the East to commit a few constructive atrocities on Mallorean shipping. The rest of it seems to be pretty much diversionary."
Belgarath started to swear. "You can't let them out of your sight for a single instant," he raged. "How could Polgara lend herself to this idiocy?"
"The plan does have a certain merit, Belgarath. The more Malloreans they drown now, the fewer we have to fight later."
"We never planned to fight them, Beldin. The Angaraks won't unite unless Torak comes back to weld them together again - or unless they're faced with a common enemy. We just talked with Drosta lek Thun, the Nadrak King, and he's so sure that the Murgos and the Malloreans are about to go to war with each other that he wants to ally himself with the west just to get clear of it. When you get back, see if you can talk some sense into Rhodar and Anheg. I've got enough problems already."
"Your problems are only starting, Belgarath. The twins had a visitation a couple of days ago."
"A what?"
Beldin shrugged. "What else would you call it? They were working on something - quite unrelated to all this - and the pair of them suddenly went into a trance and began to babble at me. At first they were just repeating that gibberish from the Mrin Codex - you know the place - where the Mrin Prophet's mind broke down and he degenerated into animal noises for a while. Anyway, they went back over that part - only this time it came out coherently."
"What did they say?" Belgarath demanded, his eyes burning.
"Are you sure you want to
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