He was bundled to the ears in furs, and he was muttering to himself as he floundered along through the snow. Zedar talks to himself a lot. He always has.
I could not for the life of me figure out what he was up to. If he thought that he could keep up with those long-legged Alorns, he was sadly mistaken. I was sure that Cherek and his boys were at least ten miles ahead of him by now. He was still angling slightly up hill, and by the time the moon set again he’d reached the crest of the north range. Then he stopped.
I drifted to a nearby tree and watched him - owlishly.
Sorry. I couldn’t resist that.
- ‘Master!’ - His thought almost knocked me off the limb I was perched on. Lord, Zedar could be clumsy when he got excited.
- I hear thee, my son. - I recognized the voice. I was a bit astounded to discover that Torak was almost as clumsy as Zedar was. He was a God! Was that the best he could do? Maybe that was the problem. Maybe Torak’s divinity had made him so sure of himself that he got careless.
- I have failed, Master. - Zedar’s silent voice was trembling. Torak was not the sort to accept the failure of his underlings graciously.
- Failed? - There were all sorts of unpleasant implications in the maimed God’s tone. - I will not accept that, Zedar. Thou must not fail. -
- Our plan was flawed, Master. Belgarath is far more powerful than we had anticipated. -
- How did this come to pass, Zedar? He is thy brother. How is it that thou wert ignorant of the extent of his might? -
- He seeméd me but a foolish man, Master. His mind is not quick, nor his perceptions acute. He is, moreover, a drunken lecher with scant morality and little seriousness. -
You rarely hear anything good about yourself when you eavesdrop. Have you ever noticed that?
- How did he manage to thwart thee, my son? - There was a steely accusation in Torak’s voice.
- He hath in some manner unknown to me gained knowledge of the techniques by which the magicians of the Morindim raise and control the demons which are their slaves. I tell thee truly, Master, he doth far surpass those savages. -
Naturally he didn’t know how I’d learned Morind magic. He’d been in Mallorea when I’d gone to Morindland to take lessons.
- What did he do, Zedar? - Torak demanded. - I must know the extent of his capabilities ere I consult with the Necessity which guides us. -
It took me a moment to realize what I’d just heard. The other Necessity - the opposite of the one that had taken up residence in my head - was not in direct communication with Zedar! Torak stood between them! He was too jealous to permit anyone to have access to that spirit - or whatever you want to call it. There was my edge! I had them! I’d be told if I made a mistake. Zedar wouldn’t. I suddenly wanted to flap my wings and crow like a rooster.
I listened very carefully while Zedar described my confrontation with the Morindim and their demons. He exaggerated a bit. Zedar’s language was always a bit excessive, but he had a very good reason for it this time. His continued good health depended on his persuading Torak that I was well-nigh invincible.
There was a long silence after Zedar had finished his extravagant description of my Demon Lord.
- I will consider this and consult with the Necessity. - Torak said finally. - Dog the steps of thy brother whilst I devise some new means to delay him. We need not destroy him. The TIME of the EVENT is as important as the EVENT itself. -
The implications there were clear. There weren’t any other traps out there. They’d hung everything on the Morindim. I felt like grinning, but that’s a little hard to do with a hooked beak. There was no need now to wait any longer. I knew what I had to know. I decided to put Zedar out of action right here and now. I could fly over the top of him, change back to my own form, and fall on him like a collapsing roof.
- Not yet - the voice told me. - It isn’t time yet. -
- When then? -
- Just a few more minutes, and you might want to reconsider your plan. I think it might have some holes in it. -
After a moment’s thought, I realized that the voice was right. Falling on top of Zedar wasn’t a very good idea. I’d have just as much chance of knocking myself senseless as I would him. Besides, I wanted to talk with him a little first.
The sense of Torak’s somewhat nebulous presence was gone now. The maimed God in Cthol Mishrak was busy consulting with that other awareness. Zedar started down the hill through the evergreens, angling back to pick up our trail.
I flew over him and landed in the snow several hundred yards in front of him. Then I changed back into my own form and waited for him, leaning rather casually against a tree.
I could see that greenish light of his bobbing through the trees as he came toward me, and I took advantage of the time to put a lid on my towering anger. It’s not a good idea to let your emotions run away with you when you’re involved in a confrontation.
Then he came out of the trees on the other side of the clearing where I’d stationed myself.
‘What kept you?’ I asked him in a calm, run-of-the mill tone of voice.
‘Belgarath!’ he gasped.
‘You must be half-asleep, Belzedar. Couldn’t you feel my presence? I wasn’t trying to hide it.’
‘Thank the Gods you’re here,’ he said with feigned enthusiasm. He was quick on his feet; I’ll give him that. ‘Weren’t you listening? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you?’
‘I’ve been running as a wolf. That might have dulled my perceptions. What are you doing here?’
‘I’ve been trying to catch up with you. You and the Alorns are running into an unnecessary danger.’
‘Oh?’
‘There’s no need for you to go to Mallorea. I’ve already retrieved the Orb. This absurd quest of yours is just a waste of time.’
‘What an amazing thing. Let’s see it.’
‘Ah - I didn’t think it was safe to bring it up here with me. I wasn’t positive I could catch up with you, and I didn’t want to take it back to Mallorea, so I put it in a safe place.’
‘Good idea. How did you manage to get it away from Torak?’ As long as he was being so creative, I thought I’d give him a chance to expand on his wild story.
‘I’ve been at this for two thousand years, Belgarath. I’ve been working on Urvon all this time. He’s still a Grolim, but he’s afraid of the power of our Master’s jewel. He distracted Torak, and I was able to slip into that iron tower at Cthol Mishrak and steal the Orb.’
‘Where did Torak keep it?’ That particular bit of information might be very useful later on.
‘It was in a room adjoining the one where he spends all his time. He didn’t want that iron box in the same room with him. The temptation to open it might have been too great for him.’
‘Well,’ I said blandly, ‘I guess that takes care of all of that, then. I’m glad you came along when you did, brother. I wasn’t really too eager to go to Mallorea. I’ll go fetch Cherek and his sons while you go pick up the Orb. Then we can all go back to the Vale.’ I waited for a little bit to give him a moment to exult over his success in deceiving me. ‘Isn’t that sort of what you’d expect from a drunken lecher with scant morality and little seriousness?’ I added, throwing his own words back in his teeth. Then I sighed with genuine regret. ‘Why, Belzedar?’ I asked him. ‘Why have you betrayed our Master?’
His head came up sharply, and his look was stricken.
‘You ought to pay more attention, old boy,’ I told him. ‘I’ve been almost on top of you for die past ten hours. Did you really think it was necessary to set fire to Etchquaw?’ I’ll admit that I was goading him. He was still my brother, and I didn’t want to be the one to strike the first blow. I bored in inexorably. ‘You’re Torak’s third disciple, aren’t you, Zedar? You’ve gone over to the other side. You’ve sold your soul to that one-eyed monster in Cthol Mishrak. What did he offer you, Zedar? What is there in this whole world that was worth what you’ve done?’
He actually broke down at that point. ‘I had no choice, Belgarath,’ he sobbed. ‘I’d thought that I could deceive Torak - that I could pretend to accept him and serve him - but he put his hand on my soul and tore it out of me. His touch, Belgarath! Dear God, his touch!’
I braced myself. I knew what was coming. Zedar always overacted. It was his one great weakness.
He started by throwing fire into my face. Between one spurious sob and the next, his arm whipped back and then flashed forward with a great blob of incandescent flame nestled in his palm.
I brushed it aside with a negligent gesture. ‘Not good enough, brother,’ I told him. Then I knocked him cart-wheeling through the snow with my fist. It was tactically sound. He’d have felt my Will building anyway, and I got an enormous satisfaction out of punching him in the mouth.
He came up spitting blood and teeth, and trying to gather his wits. I didn’t give him time for that, however. He spent the next several minutes dancing in the snow, dodging the lightning bolts I threw at him. I still didn’t want to kill him, so I gave him an instant of warning before I turned each bolt loose. It did keep him off-balance, though, and the sizzling noise when the bolts hit the snow really distracted him.