Chapters (28)
- The Belgariad
- Book 5:
- PROLOGUE
- Part One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- PART TWO
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Part Three
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Epilogue
"It was absolutely splendid!" Lelldorin exclaimed, his eyes very bright. There was a bandage around the young Asturian's upper arm, but he seemed to have forgotten that it was there as he gesticulated wildly. "Just at the point when the Murgos were completely confused, there was a sound like thunder, and the knights came curving around the side of a hill with their lances advanced and their pennons streaming. They bore down on the Murgos - a wave of solid steel - and the hoofs of their horses shook the earth. And then at the last moment, they all lowered their lances. It was like watching a wave break. And then they hit the Murgos with a great crash, and they didn't even slow down. They rode through them as if they weren't even there! They absolutely crushed them, and then we all ran in to finish up. It was glorious!"
"He's as bad as Mandorallen, isn't he?" Barak observed to Hettar.
"I think it's in their blood," Hettar replied sagely.
"Did any of them get away?" Anheg asked.
Barak gave his cousin an evil grin. "After it got dark, we could hear a few of them trying to crawl away. That's when Relg and his Ulgos went out to tidy up. Don't worry, Anheg. Nobody's going to report back to Taur Urgas."
"He is likely to be waiting for news, isn't he?" Anheg grinned.
"I hope he's patient, then," Barak replied, "because he'll be waiting for a long time."
Ariana, her face somber, took Lelldorin to task very firmly for his lack of discretion, even as she tended his wound. Her words far surpassed a simple scolding. She grew eloquent, and her lengthy, involuted sentences gave her remonstrance a depth and scope that reduced her young man very nearly to tears. His wound, admittedly minor, became a symbol of his careless lack of regard for her. Her expression grew martyred, and his grew anguished. Ce'Nedra observed how neatly Ariana twisted each of the young man's lame excuses into an even greater personal injury, and filed this excellent technique away in a compartment of her complex little mind for future use. True, Garion was somewhat brighter than Lelldorin, but the tactic would probably work on him too, if she practiced a little.