"Wilt thou, Belgarion, and thy friend Zakath accompany me to the aft cabin?" Cyradis said as they cleared the harbor.

"Of course, Holy Seeress," Garion replied. He noticed that as the three of them moved aft, Zakath took the blindfolded girl's hand to lead her, almost unconsciously duplicating Toth's solicitude. A peculiar notion crossed the mind of the Rivan King at that point. He looked rather closely at his friend. Zakath's face was strangely gentle, and his eyes had an odd look in them. The notion was absurd, of course, but as clearly as if he had seen directly into the Mallorean Emperor's heart, Garion knew that it was absolutely true. He rather carefully concealed a smile.

In the aft cabin stood two gleaming suits of armor, looking for all the world like those of the knights at Vo Mimbre.

"These must garb you at Perivor," Cyradis told them.

"There's a reason, I assume," Garion said.

"Indeed. And when we approach that coast, thou must each lower thy visor and under no circumstances raise it whilst we are on that isle unless I give thee leave."

"And you're not going to tell us what the reason is, are you?”

She smiled gently and laid one hand on his arm. "Know only that it is needful."

"I sort of thought she might take that position," Garion said to Zakath. He went to the door of the cabin. "Durnik," he called, "we're going to need some help down here."

"We don't have to put it on yet, do we?" Zakath asked him.

"Have you ever worn full armor before?"

"No. I can't say that I have."

"It takes a bit of getting used to. Even Mandorallen grunted a bit when he first put his on."

"Mandorallen? That Mimbrate friend of yours?"

Garion nodded. "He's Ce'Nedra's champion."

"I thought you were."

"I'm her husband. Different rules apply." He looked critically at Zakath's sword, a rather light and slim-bladed weapon. "He's going to need a bigger sword, Cyradis," he told the Seeress.

"In that cabinet, Belgarion."

"She thinks of everything," Garion said wryly. He opened the cabinet. Inside, standing almost to shoulder height, was a massive broadsword. He lifted it out with both hands. "Your sword, your Majesty," he said, extending the hilt to Zakath.

"Thank you, your Majesty." Zakath grinned. As he took me sword, his eyes suddenly went wide. "Torak's teeth!" he swore, almost dropping the huge weapon. "Do people actually use these things on each other?"

"Frequently. It's a major form of entertainment in Arendia. If you think that one's heavy, you should try mine." Then Gar-ion remembered something. "Wake up," he said rather peremptorily to the Orb.

The murmur of the stone was slightly offended.

"Don't overdo this," Garion instructed, "but my friend’s sword is just a bit heavy for him. Let's make it lighter a little at a time." He watched as Zakath strained to raise the sword. "A little more," he instructed the Orb.