"The first time we met, I cut off about four feet of her tail. If the one we run into out there has a stub tail, we'll know it's Zandramas."

“Do we really have to go to this celebration tonight? “ Beldin asked.

"It's expected, uncle," Aunt Pol told him.

"But I haven't got a single solitary thing to wear, don't y' know," he said roguishly, lapsing back into Feldegast's brogue.

"We'll take care of you, uncle," she said ominously.

The affair that evening had been weeks in the planning. It was the grand finale of the tournament, and it involved dancing in which Garion and Zakath, still in armor, could not participate. It involved a banquet which, visored, they could not eat. And it involved a great many flowery toasts to "these mighty champions, who have lent luster to our remote isle by their presence here," as the nobles in the court of King Oldorin vied with one another to heap extravagant praise on Garion and Zakath.

"How long is this likely to go on?" Zakath muttered to Garion.

"Hours."

"I was afraid you might say that. Here come the ladies."

Polgara, flanked by Ce'Nedra and Velvet, entered the throne room almost as if she owned it. Cyradis, strangely or perhaps not was not with them. Polgara, as usual, was gowned in royal-blue velvet trimmed with silver. She looked magnificent. Ce'Nedra wore a cream-colored gown much like her wedding dress, although the seed pearls that had adorned her nuptial gown were missing. Her wealth of copper-colored hair spilled down in curls over one shoulder. Velvet was gowned in lavender satin. Any number of the young knights of Perivor those who could still walk after the day's entertainment were hopelessly smitten by the sight of her.

"Time for some obscure introductions, I think," Garion muttered to Zakath. Pleading the necessity for anonymity, the ladies had remained in their quarters since their arrival. Garion stepped forward and escorted them to the throne. "Your Majesty," he said to King Oldorin, bowing slightly, “though I may not, by reason or our need for concealment, tell thee in fulsome detail of their lands of origin, it would be discourteous of me to both thee and to the ladies themselves not to present them. I have the honor to present her Grace, the Duchess of Erat.” That was safe. Nobody on this side of the world would have the faintest idea where Erat was.

Polgara curtsied with exquisite grace. "Your Majesty," she greeted the king in her rich voice.

He rose to his feet with alacrity. "Your Grace," he replied with a deep bow. "Thy presence here illuminates our poor palace."

"And, your Majesty," Garion went on, "her Highness, Princess Xera." Ce'Nedra stared at him. "Your real name might be too well known," he whispered to her.