"How?" Mandorallen asked. "It is in our blood. I myself am the most peaceful of men, but even I am subject to our national disease. Moreover, our divisions are too great, too buried in our history and our souls to be purged away. The peace will not last, my friend. Even now Asturian arrows sing in the forests, seeking Mimbrate targets, and Mimbre in reprisal burns Asturian houses and butchers hostages. War is inevitable, I fear."

"No," Wolf disagreed, "it's not."

"How may it be prevented?" Mandorallen demanded. "Who can cure our insanity?"

"I will, if I have to," Wolf told him quietly, pushing back his gray hood.

Mandorallen smiled wanly. "I appreciate thy good intentions, Belgarath, but that is impossible, even for thee."

"Nothing is actually impossible, Mandorallen," Wolf answered in a matter-of fact voice. "Most of the time I prefer not to interfere with other people's amusements, but I can't afford to have Arendia going up in flames just now. If I have to, I'll step in and put a stop to any more foolishness."

"Hast thou in truth such power?" Mandorallen asked somewhat wistfully as if he could not quite bring himself to believe it.

"Yes," Wolf replied prosaically, scratching at his short white beard, "as a matter of fact, I do."

Mandorallen's face grew troubled, even a bit awed at the old man's quiet statement, and Garion found his grandfather's declaration profoundly disturbing. If Wolf could actually stop a war single-handedly, he'd have no difficulty at all thwarting Garion's own plans for revenge. It was something else to worry about.

Then Silk rode back toward them. "The Great Fair's just ahead," the rat-faced man announced. "Do we want to stop, or should we go around it.

"We might as well stop," Wolf decided. "It's almost evening, and we need some supplies."

"The horses could use some rest, too," Hettar said. "They're starting to complain."

"You should have told me," Wolf said, glancing back at the pack train.

"They're not really in bad shape yet," Hettar informed him, "but they're starting to feel sorry for themselves. They're exaggerating of course, but a little rest wouldn't hurt them."

"Exaggerating?" Silk sounded shocked. "You don't mean to say that horses can actually lie, do you?"

Hettar shrugged. "Of course. They lie all the time. They're very good at it."

For a moment Silk looked outraged at the thought, and then he suddenly laughed. "Somehow that restores my faith in the order of the universe," he declared.

Wolf looked pained. "Silk," he said pointedly, "you're a very evil man. Did you know that?"

"One does one's best," Silk replied mockingly.