"I am Sir Beridel," he replied, "son of Sir Andorig, Baron of Vo Enderig."

"The man with the apple tree?"

"The very same, your Majesty." The young man seemed pleased that she had heard of his father and the strange duty Belgarath had imposed on him. "My father now rides at the right hand of King Korodullin. I would ride with them this night but for this stroke of ill fortune." He looked sadly at his broken arm.

"There will be other nights, Sir Beridel," she assured him, "and other contests."

"Truly, your Majesty," he agreed. His face brightened momentarily, but then he sighed and went back to his somber brooding.

Ce'Nedra drifted away, leaving him to his thoughts.

"You can't really talk to them, you know," a rough voice said to her from the shadows. It was Beldin, the ugly hunchback.

"He doesn't seem to be afraid of anything," Ce'Nedra said a bit nervously. The foul-mouthed sorcerer always made her nervous.

"He's a Mimbrate Arend," Beldin snorted. "He doesn't have enough brains to be afraid."

"Are all the men in the army like him?"

"No. Most of them are afraid, but they'll go through with the attack anyway - for a variety of reasons."

"And you?" she could not help asking. "Are you afraid too?"

"My fears are a bit more exotic," he said dryly.

"Such as?"

"We've been at this for a very long time - Belgarath, Pol, the twins and I - and I'm more concerned about something going wrong than I am about my own personal safety."

"How do you mean, wrong?"

"The Prophecy is very complex - and it doesn't say everything. The two possible outcomes of all this are still absolutely balanced as far as I can tell. Something very, very slight could tip that balance one way or the other. It could be something that I've overlooked. That's what I'm afraid of."

"All we can do is the best we can."

"That might not be enough."

"What else can we do?"

"I don't know - and that's what worries me."

"Why worry about something if you can't do anything about it?"

"Now you're starting to sound like Belgarath. He tends to shrug things off and trust to his luck sometimes. I like things a little neater." He stared off into the darkness. "Stay close to Pol tonight, little girl," he said after a moment. "Don't get separated from her. It might take you someplace you hadn't planned to go, but you're supposed to stay with her, no matter what."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know what it means," he retorted irritably. "All I know is that you and she and the blacksmith and that stray child you picked up are supposed to stay together. Something unexpected is going to happen."

"You mean a disaster? We must warn the others."