There was a faint sound in the corner of the room, and they both turned sharply. Errand, his blue eyes very serious, stood watching them.

"Take him with you," Aunt Pol said. "See that he eats and keep an eye on him."

Garion nodded and beckoned to the child. Errand smiled his trusting smile and crossed the room. He reached out and patted the unconscious Belgarath's hand, then turned to follow Garion from the room.

The tall, brown-haired girl who had accompanied Queen Silar out through the gates of the Stronghold was waiting for him in the corndor outside. Her skin, Garion noticed, was very pale, almost translucent, and her gray eyes were direct. "Is the Eternal Man really any better?" she asked.

"Much better," Garion replied with all the confidence he could muster. "He'll be out of bed in no time at all."

"He seems so weak," she said. "So old and frail."

"Frail? Belgarath?" Garion forced a laugh. "He's made out of old iron and horseshoe nails."

"He is seven thousand years old, after all."

"That doesn't mean anything to him. He stopped paying attention to the years a long time ago."

"You're Garion, aren't you?" she asked. "Queen Silar told us about you when she returned from Val Alorn last year. For some reason I thought you were younger."

"I was then," Garion replied. "I've aged a bit this last year."

"My name is Adara," the tall girl introduced herself. "Queen Silar asked me to show you the way to the main hall. Supper should be ready soon."

Garion inclined his head politely. In spite of the worry gnawing at him, he could not shake off the peculiar feeling that he ought to know this quiet, beautiful girl. Errand reached out and took the girl's hand, and the three of them passed hand in hand down the torch-lighted corridor.

King Cho-Hag's main hall was on a lower floor. It was a long, narrow room where chairs and padded benches sat in little clusters around braziers filled with glowing coals. Barak, holding a large ale tankard in one huge fist, was describing with some embellishment their descent from the top of the escarpment.

"We didn't really have any choice, you see," the big man was saying. "Taur Urgas had been frothing on our heels for several days, and we had to take the shortest way down."

Hettar nodded. "Plans sometimes have a way of changing when the unexpected crops up," he agreed. "That's why we put men to watching every known pass down from the top of the escarpment."

"I still think you might have let us know you were there." Barak sounded a little injured.

Hettar grinned wolfishly. "We couldn't really take the chance, Barak," he explained. "The Murgos might have seen us, and we didn't want to frighten them off. It would have been a shame if they'd gotten away, wouldn't it?"

"Is that all you ever think about?"