‘What exactly are you going to do?’ Silk asked her.

‘It might be unwise of me to tell thee in advance, Prince Kheldar. Canst thou, however, discover the location of the remains of Naradas for me?’

‘I should be able to do that,’ he replied. ‘I’ll go ask around a bit.’ Then he left the room.

‘And when Prince Kheldar returns with the location of dead Naradas, thou, King of Riva, and thou, Emperor of Mallorea, go even unto the king and prevail upon him in the strongest of terms to accompany you at midnight to that place, for certain truths shall be revealed to him there which may lessen his grief.’

‘Cyradis,’ Beldin sighed, ‘why must you always complicate things?’

She smiled almost shyly. ‘It is one of my few delights, gentle Beldin. To speak obscurely doth cause others to ponder my words more carefully. The dawning of understanding in them causes me a certain satisfaction.’

‘Not to mention the fact that it’s very irritating.’

‘That perhaps is also a part of the delight,’ she agreed impishly.

‘You know,’ Beldin said to Belgarath, ‘I think she’s a human being after all.’

It was about ten minutes later when Silk returned. ‘Found him,’ he said a bit smugly. ‘They’ve got him laid out on a bier in the chapel of Chamdar on the main floor of the palace. I looked in on him. He’s really much, much more attractive with his eyes closed. The funeral’s scheduled for tomorrow. It’s summer, and he probably won’t keep.’

‘What would be thine estimate of the hour, Goodman?’ Cyradis asked Durnik.

The smith went to the window and looked up at the stars. ‘I make it about an hour before midnight,’ he replied.

‘Go then now, Belgarion and Zakath. Use all the powers of persuasion at your command. It is absolutely essential that the king be in that chapel at midnight.’

‘We’ll bring him, Holy Seeress,’ Zakath promised her.

‘Even if we have to drag him,’ Garion added.

‘I wish I knew what she was up to,’ Zakath said as he and Garion walked down the hall outside. ‘It might make the king a bit easier to persuade if we could tell him what to expect.’

‘It might also make him sceptical,’ Garion disagreed. ‘I think Cyradis is planning something fairly exotic, and some people have difficulty accepting that sort of thing.’

‘Oh, my, yes,’ Zakath grinned.

‘His Majesty does not wish to be disturbed,’ one of the guards at the king’s door said when they asked admission.

‘Tell him please that it is a matter of extremest urgency,’ Garion said.

‘I’ll try, Sir Knight,’ the guard said dubiously, ‘but he is much distraught at the death of his friend.’

The guard returned a few moments later. ‘His Majesty consents to see thee and thy companion, Sir Knight, but prithee, be brief. His suffering is extreme.’

‘Of course,’ Garion murmured.

The king’s private chambers were ornate. The king himself sat in a deeply cushioned chair reading a slender volume by the light of a single candle. His face looked ravaged, and there were signs that he had been weeping. He held up the book after they had presented themselves to him. ‘A volume of consolation,’ he said. ‘It doth not offer much of that to me, however. How may I serve ye, Sir Knights?’

‘We have come in part to offer thee our condolences, your Majesty,’ Garion began carefully. ‘Know that first grief is always sharpest. The passage of time will dull thy pain.’

‘But never banish it entirely, Sir Knight.’

‘Undoubtedly true, your Majesty. What we have come to ask of thee may seem cruel in the light of present circumstances, and we would not presume to intrude upon thee were the matter not of such supreme urgency – not to us so much as it is to thee.’

‘Say on, Sir Knight,’ the king said, a faint interest showing in his eyes.

‘There are certain truths which must be revealed unto thee this very night, your Majesty,’ Garion went on, ‘and they can only be revealed in the presence of thy late friend.’

‘Unthinkable, Sir Knight,’ the king said adamantly.

‘We are assured by the one who will reveal these truths that they may in some measure assuage thy sorrow. Erezel was thy dearest friend, and he would not have thee suffer needlessly.’

‘Truly,’ the king conceeded. ‘He was a man with a great heart.’

‘I’m sure,’ Garion said.

‘There is perhaps another, more personal reason for thee to visit the chapel where Master Erezel lies in state, your Majesty,’ Zakath added. ‘His funeral will be held, we are told, tomorrow. The ceremony will be attended by most of thy court. This night provides thee thy last opportunity to visit with him privately and to fix his well-loved features in thy memory. My friend and I will guard the chapel door to insure that thy communion with him and with his spirit shall be undisturbed.’

The king considered that. ‘It may be even as thou sayest, Sir Knight,’ he conceded. ‘Though it wring my heart, I would indeed look upon his face one last time. Very well, then, let us repair to the chapel.’ He rose and led them from the chamber.

The chapel of Chamdar, the Arendish God, was dimly lighted by a lone candle standing on the bier at the body’s head. A gold-colored cloth covered the immobile form of Naradas to the chest, and his face was calm, even serene. Knowing what he did of the Grolim’s career, Garion found that apparent serenity a mockery.

‘We will guard the chapel door, your Majesty,’ Zakath said, ‘and leave thee alone with thy friend.’ He and Garion stepped back out into the corridor and closed the door.

‘You were very smooth back there,’ Garion told his friend.

‘You weren’t so bad yourself, but smooth or rough, at least we got him here.’

They stood at the door awaiting Cyradis and the others. After about a quarter of an hour, they arrived.

‘Is he in there?’ Belgarath asked Garion.

‘Yes. We had to do a bit of fast talking, but he finally agreed.’

Standing beside Cyradis was a figure robed and hooded in black. It appeared to be a woman, a Dal most likely, but it was the first time Garion had ever seen one of that race clad in any color but white. ‘This is the one who will aid us,’ the Seeress said. ‘Let us go in unto the king, for the hour is nigh.’