‘I suppose we’d better come up with a name for him,’ father said. ‘People might talk if we just call him “Godslayer”.’

‘His name’s Garion, father. Ildera and I decided on that months ago.’

‘Garion? Not bad, I guess. Where did you come up with it?’

‘Ildera had a dream. I think there might have been some tampering involved. She told me that his real name would be “Belgarion”, but that we should call him “Garion” until he grows up.’ I steeled my heart. ‘Chamdar’s got a lot to answer for, doesn’t he?’

‘Indeed he does,’ father replied in a flinty kind of voice, ‘and I’m personally going to see to it that it takes him at least a week to do all his answering. What happened to Alara?’

‘She’s dead too, father. She fell off a cliff. We’ll have to bury her on our way out of town.’

‘Make that two weeks!’ he grated. ‘I’m sure I can come up with a way to keep Chamdar alive for at least that long.’

‘Good!’ I said. ‘I’ll take Garion to safety. You go after Chamdar. Take notes, father. I want lots of details when you tell me about it.’ I was feeling at least as savage as father was at that point.

‘Not a chance, Pol.’ Father said it regretfully. ‘I’ve got to get the two of you to safety first. Our main responsibility’s wrapped up in that blanket. I’ll deal with Chamdar after I know you’re safe.’

We left the now collapsing house and followed the snow-covered road on down past the quarry, and then we set off through the trees to the base of the cliff that had claimed Alara. About all we could really do was to pile rocks over her, and we couldn’t even mark her grave. Her gravestone’s in my heart, though, and I’m sure it’ll always be there.

Father stole a she-goat from an isolated farmstead, and I devised a nursing bottle. The little nanny-goat seemed actually fond of Garion, and probably wouldn’t have objected to nursing him. I didn’t really think that’d be appropriate, though. The goat probably thought I was being silly, but over the centuries, goats have learned to expect humans to be silly, I suppose. Father and I stuck to the woods on our journey down to the low country, and he was very careful to erase our tracks in the snow as we went. If it’d been up to me, I’d have left those tracks where they were and set off signal fires to attract Chamdar or any of his Grolim underlings. I was feeling vengeful, and I really wanted to kill Angaraks about then.

We avoided all roads and camped out in caves or under fallen trees. It took us several days to reach the foothills, and we came out on to a fairly well-traveled road near the village of Outer Gralt. We didn’t go into the town, but continued on, making our way toward my house on the shores of Lake Erat, the place I always go when things fall apart.

As it always is when I’ve been away for a long time, the interior of the house was chill and dusty. I built a fire in the kitchen stove while father went on out beyond the rose-thicket to have a word with the twins.

He came back shivering. He dutifully stamped the snow off his feet at the door, looking longingly at my roaring stove.

‘Don’t bother,’ I told him. ‘You have to milk the goat. She’s in the stable. You’d better feed her as well.’

‘Couldn’t I just-?’

‘No, father. You’re up and moving now, and I know how hard it is to get you started again once you’ve settled down. Get your chores done first, then you can sit down by the stove.’

He sighed and went back out. There were some things I needed back in the house, so I deposited Garion in a drawer so that I could search unimpeded. An open drawer’s a very good place to stow a newborn infant, did you know that?

I found a cradle and some baby clothes back in the house. Over the years, quite a few babies had been bom there, and I seldom throw anything away that I might need later. By the time father returned with a pail of warm goat’s milk, Garion was dressed, lying in an eight-hundred year old cradle, and holding a little rattle that had been made generations ago.

‘I think it’s colder down here than it is up in the mountains,’ father noted, holding his hands out over the stove.

‘It just seems that way, father. Were you able to contact the twins?’

‘Oh, I got them, all right. I just hope they understood what I was saying to them when I said we needed them in the rose-garden.’

‘I’m sure they did.’

‘I’m still going to stay here until they arrive. Then I’m going to track down Chamdar and settle this once and for all. I should have killed him a long time ago.’

‘You’re starting to sound like uncle Beldin.’

‘Beldin’s approach to problems might be simplistic, Pol, but it does have the charm of being permanent.’ Then he looked at me gravely. ‘Have you decided where you’re going to take the baby yet? I probably ought to know the name of the town.’

‘I don’t think I’ll go to a town, father – not this time. Towns have a tendency to leak information. I don’t like being at the mercy of the gabbiest old drunkard in town. I think I’ll try an isolated farm instead, and I’m going to do something differently this time.’

‘Oh? What’s that ?’

‘I’ve always made a point of telling the young man in question who he really is so that he understands the necessity for ordinariness.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘Some of them haven’t been very good actors. Sometimes they get carried away – probably because they’re related to you.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You over-act, father. I’m sorry, but you do. You go to extremes. I’ll fix it so that Garion doesn’t have to act.’

‘How do you plan to manage that ?’

‘It’s simple, father. I just won’t tell him who he is. I’ll let him find it out for himself. I’ll raise him as an ordinary farm boy, and he’ll believe that he’s an ordinary farm boy. Acting won’t be necessary. All he’ll have to do is just be himself.’

‘I think that might be a little dangerous, Pol. He’s bound to find out eventually who you are. You give that away a dozen times a day.’

‘Then I’ll have to learn to control myself, won’t I?’

He shook his head stubbornly. ‘It won’t work. There are dozens of books out there that describe you all the way down to your toenails.’