"I made some threats. I think they took me seriously." He thought about it. "The thunderstorm I created may have helped, though," he added. "Anyway, Mandorallen and Nerina had loved each other for years, but they'd been suffering in beautiful silence for all that time. I finally got tired of it, so I made them get on with it. I made some more threats. I’ve got this big knife back here." He poked his thumb over his shoulder. "It attracts a lot of attention sometimes.”

"Garion!" Zakath laughed. "You're a peasant."

"Yes. Probably," Garion admitted. "But it got them married, after all. They're both deliriously happy now, and if anything goes wrong, they can always blame me, can't they?"

"You're not like other men, my friend," Zakath said very seriously.

"No." Garion sighed. "Probably not. I'd like to be, though. The world lies very heavily on you and me, Zakath, and it doesn't leave us any time for ourselves. Wouldn't you just like to ride out on a summer morning to look at the sunrise and see what lies over the next hilltop?”

"I thought that's what we’ve been doing."

"Not entirely. We're doing all this because we're compelled to. What I was talking about was doing it just for fun.”

"I haven't done anything just for fun in years."

"Didn't you rather enjoy threatening to crucify King Gethel of the Thulls? Ce'Nedra told me about that."

Zakath laughed. "That wasn't too bad," he admitted. "I wouldn't have done it, of course. Gethel was an idiot, but he was sort of necessary at that point."

"It always comes to that, doesn't it? You and I do what's necessary, not what we'd really prefer to do. Neither of us sought this eminence, but we'll do what's necessary and what's expected of us. If we don't, this world will die, and good, honest men will die with it. I won't permit that if I can help it. I won't betray those good, honest men, and neither will you. You're too good a man yourself.”

"Good? Me?"

"You underestimate yourself, Zakath, and I think that very soon someone will come and teach you not to hate yourself anymore."

Zakath started visibly.

"You didn't think I knew?" Garion said, boring in relentlessly. "But that's nearly over now. Your suffering and pain and remorse are almost done, and if you need any instructions in how to be happy, look me up. After all, that's what friends are for, aren't they?"

A choked sob came from behind Zakath's visor.

The she-wolf had been standing between their horses. She looked up at Garion. "Very well done," she said. "Perhaps one has misjudged you, young wolf. Perhaps you are not a puppy after all."

"One can but do one's best," Garion replied, also in the language of wolves. "One hopes that one has not been too much a disappointment."

"One feels that you have some promise, Garion."