"Can you speak, boy?" he asked Garion. His voice had a strange contralto quality to it, and his silk robe was a solid crimson rather than varicolored.

"Could I have a drink of water?" Garion asked.

"In a minute."

"I'll take my money now, Sadi," Issus said.

"As soon as we're sure this is the right boy," Sadi replied.

"Ask it what its name is," a hissing whisper said from the darkness behind Garion.

"I will, Maas." Sadi looked faintly annoyed at the suggestion. "I've done this before."

"You're taking too long," the whisper said.

"Say your name, boy," Sadi told Garion.

"Doroon," Garion lied quickly. "I'm really very thirsty."

"Do you take me for a fool, Issus?" Sadi asked. "Did you think just any boy would satisfy me?"

"This is the boy you told me to fetch," Issus said. "I can't help it if your information was wrong."

"You say your name is Doroon?" Sadi asked.

"Yes," Garion said. "I'm the cabin-boy on Captain Greldik's ship. Where are we?"

"I'll ask the questions, boy," Sadi said.

"It's lying," the sibilant whisper came from behind Garion.

"I know that, Maas," Sadi replied calmly. "They always do at first."

"We don't have time for all this," the hiss said. "Give it oret. I need the truth immediately."

"Whatever you say, Maas," Sadi agreed. He rose to his feet and disappeared momentarily into the shadows behind the table. Garion heard a clink and then the sound of water pouring. "Remembering that this was your idea, Maas. If she becomes angry about it, I don't want to be the one she blames."

"She'll understand, Sadi."

"Here, boy," Sadi offered, coming back into the light and holding out a brown earthenware cup.

"Uh-no, thank you," Garion said. "I guess I'm not really thirsty after all."

"You might as well drink it, boy," Sadi told him. "If you don't, Issus will hold you, and I'll pour it down your throat. It isn't going to hurt you.

"Drink," the hissing voice commanded.

"Better do as they say," Issus advised.

Helplessly Garion took the cup. The water had a strangely bitter taste and seemed to burn his tongue.

"Much better," Sadi said, resuming his seat behind the table. "Now, you say your name is Doroon?"

"Yes."

"Where are you from, Doroon?"

"Sendaria."

"Where exactly in Sendaria?"

"Near Darine on the north coast."

"What are you doing on a Cherek ship?"

"Captain Greldik's a friend of my father," Garion said. For some reason he suddenly wanted to explain further. "My father wanted me to learn about ships. He says that being a sailor's better than being a farmer. Captain Greldik agreed to teach me what I'd need to know to be a sailor. He says I'll be good at it because I didn't even get seasick, and I'm not afraid to climb up the ropes that hold the sails in place, and I'm almost strong enough to pull an oar already, and-"

"What did you say your name was, boy?"

"Garion - I mean - uh - Doroon. Yes, Doroon, and-"

"How old are you, Garion?"

"Fifteen last Erastide. Aunt Pol says that people who are born on Erastide are very lucky, only I haven't noticed that I'm luckier than-"

"And who is Aunt Pol?"

"She's my aunt. We used to live on Faldor's farm, but Mister Wolf came and we-"

"Do people call her something besides Aunt Pol?"

"King Fulrach called her Polgara - that was when Captain Brendig took us all to the palace in Sendar. Then we went to King Anheg's palace in Val Alorn, and-"

"Who's Mister Wolf?"

"My grandfather. They call him Belgarath. I didn't used to believe it, but I guess it has to be true because one time he-"

"And why did you all leave Faldor's farm?"

"I didn't know why at first, but then I found out that it was because Zedar stole the Orb of Aldur off the pommel of the Sword of the Rivan King, and we've got to get it back before Zedar can take it to Torak and wake him up and-"

"This is the boy we want," the hissing voice whispered.

Garion turned around slowly. The room seemed brighter now, as if the tiny flame were putting out more light. In the corner, rearing out of its own coils and with a strangely flattened neck and glowing eyes was a very large snake.

"We can take it to Salmissra now," the snake hissed. It lowered itself to the floor and crawled across to Garion. He felt its cold, dry nose touch his leg, and then, though a hidden part of his mind shrieked, he stood unresisting as the scaly body slowly mounted his leg and coiled upward until the snake's head reared beside his face and its flickering tongue touched his face. "Be very good, boy," the snake hissed in his ear, "very, very good." The reptile was heavy, and its coils thick and cold.

"This way, boy," Sadi told Garion, rising to his feet.

"I want my money," Issus demanded.

"Oh," Sadi said almost contemptuously, "that. It's in that pouch there on the table." Then he turned and led Garion from the room.

"Garion." The dry voice that had always been in his mind spoke quietly to him. "I want you to listen carefully. Don't say anything or let anything show on your face. Just listen to me. "

"Who are you?" Garion asked silently, struggling with the fog in his brain.

"You know me, " the dry voice told him. "Now listen. They've given you something that makes you do what they want you to do. Don't fight against it. Just relax and don't fight it. "

"But - I said things I shouldn't have. I-"

"That doesn't matter now. Just do as I say. If anything happens and it starts to get dangerous, don't fight. I'll take care of it - but I can't do it if you're struggling. You have to relax so that I can do what has to be done. If you suddenly find yourself doing things or saying things you don't understand, don't be afraid and don't try to fight. It won't be them; it will be me."

Comforted by this silent reassurance, Garion walked obediently beside Sadi the eunuch while the coils of the snake, Maas, lay heavily about his chest and shoulders and the bluntly pointed reptilian head rested, almost nuzzling, against his cheek.

They entered a large room where the walls were heavily draped and crystal oil lamps hung glittering on silver chains. An enormous stone statue, its upper third lost in the shadows high above, raised its mass titanically at one end of the room, and directly in front of the statue was a low stone platform, carpeted and strewn with cushions. Upon the platform stood a heavy divan that was not quite a chair and not quite a couch.