"I think there's a way we can avoid all that," Belgarath replied lazily. He was lounging deeply in a large chair. "We'll go back to Prolgu the way we came, but I need to talk to Relg. Do you suppose you could send for him?"

Cho-Hag nodded and gestured to a serving man. He spoke briefly to him as Belgarath negligently hung one leg over the arm of his chair and settled in even deeper. The old man was wearing a soft, gray woolen tunic; although it was early, he held a tankard of ale.

"Don't you think you're overdoing that a bit?" Aunt Pol asked him, looking pointedly at the tankard.

"I have to regain my strength, Pol," he explained innocently, "and strong ale restores the blood. You seem to forget that I'm still practically an invalid."

"I wonder how much of your invalidism's coming out of Cho-Hag's ale-barrel," she commented. "You looked terrible when you came down this morning."

"I'm feeling much better now, though." He smiled, taking another drink.

"I'm sure you are. Yes, Garion?"

"Adara wants me to go riding with her," Garion said. "I - that is, she - thought I should tell you where I was going."

Queen Silar smiled gently at him. "You've stolen away my favorite lady in waiting, Garion," she told him.

"I'm sorry," Garion quickly replied. "If you need her, we won't go."

"I was only teasing you." The queen laughed. "Go ahead and enjoy your ride."

Relg came into the hall just then, and not far behind him, Taiba. The Marag woman, once she had bathed and been given decent clothes to wear, had surprised them all. She was no longer the hopeless, dirty slave woman they had found in the caves beneath Rak Cthol. Her figure was full and her skin very pale. She moved with a kind of unconscious grace, and King Cho-Hag's clansmen looked after her as she passed, their lips pursed speculatively. She seemed to know she was being watched, and, far from being offended by the fact, it seemed rather to please her and to increase her self confidence. Her violet eyes glowed, and she smiled often now. She was, however, never very far from Relg. At first Garion had believed that she was deliberately placing herself where the Ulgo would have to look at her out of a perverse enjoyment of the discomfort it caused him, but now he was not so sure. She no longer even seemed to think about it, but followed Relg wherever he went, seldom speaking, but always there.

"You sent for me, Belgarath?" Relg asked. Some of the harshness had gone out of his voice, but his eyes still looked peculiarly haunted.

"Ah, Relg," Belgarath said expansively. "There's a good fellow. Come, sit down. Take a cup of ale."

"Water, thank you," Relg replied firmly.