Castle of Wizardry

might come back at any minute."
    Wonderingly, the princess touched the amulet again and again, and her ears ranged randomly through the Citadel.
    "The fire's too hot. This iron will scorch anything it touches." Then she heard a snatch of whispered conversation. "What if somebody comes?" It was a girl's voice.
    "Nobody's going to come." The young man's voice which replied had a peculiar wheedling quality. "We're all safe and cozy here, and I really do love you."
    Ce'Nedra quickly jerked her fingers from the amulet, blushing furiously.
    At first there was no direction to it; but as the princess experimented, she gradually learned to focus this peculiar phenomenon. After a couple of hours of intense concentration, she found that she could skim rapidly through all the talking that was going on in a given quarter of the Citadel until she found a conversation that interested her. In the process she learned many secrets, some very interesting, and some not very nice. She knew that she should feel guilty about her surreptitious eavesdropping, but for some reason she did not.
    "Thy reasoning is sound, your Majesty." It was Mandorallen's voice. "King Korodullin is committed to the cause, though it will take some weeks for his call to arms to gather the forces of Arendia. Our major concern must be the position the Emperor will take in the affair. Without the legions, our situation is perilous."
    "Ran Borune has no choice in the matter," King Anheg declared. "He's bound by the provisions of the Accords of Vo Mimbre."
    Brand, the Rivan Warder, cleared his throat. "I don't think it's that simple, your Majesty," he said quietly in his deep voice. "The Accords state that the Kingdoms of the West must respond to a call from the Rivan King, and Belgarion is not here to issue that call."
    "We're acting in his behalf," King Cho-Hag asserted.
    "The problem lies in convincing Ran Borune of that," Rhodar pointed out. "I know the Tolnedrans. They'll have whole battalions of legal experts working on the Accords. Unless Belgarion himself meets Ran Borune face to face and issues his command in person, the Emperor will take the position that he's not legally bound to join us. The Rivan King is the only one who can issue a call to war."
    Ce'Nedra let her fingertips drop from the amulet at her throat. An idea was beginning to take shape in her mind. It was an exciting idea, but she was not at all certain that she could bring it off. Alorns, she knew, were stubborn and reluctant to accept any new ideas. She quickly laid aside her hairbrush and went to a small chest standing against the wall near the window. She opened the chest and began rummaging through it. After a moment she found the tightly rolled parchment she had been seeking. She unrolled it and read through it quickly until she found the passage she wanted. She read it carefully several times. It seemed to say what she wanted it to say.
    She considered the idea throughout the rest of the day. The possibility that anyone might succeed in catching up with Garion and stopping him was remote, to say the very least. Belgarath and Prince Kheldar were too skilled at evasion to allow themselves to be easily caught. Chasing them was simply a waste of time. Since Polgara was not yet rational enough to see things in this light, it fell to Ce'Nedra to take immediate steps to minimize Garion's danger once he had entered the lands of the Angaraks. All she had to do now was convince the Alorn Kings that she was the logical one to take those steps.
    It was still raining the next morning, and she rose early to make her preparations. She must, of course, look positively regal. Her choice of an emerald velvet gown and matching cape was artful. She knew that she was stunning in green, and her circlet of gold oak leaves was enough like a crown to convey the right suggestion. She was glad she had waited until morning. Men were easier to deal with in the morning, she had discovered. They would fight her at first, and she wanted the idea implanted in their minds before they were fully awake. As she gave herself a last-minute check in the tall mirror in her dressing room, she gathered her determination and marshalled all her arguments. The slightest objection must be met instantly. Carefully she put herself in an imperial frame of mind and, taking the rolled parchment, she moved toward the door.
    The council chamber in which the Alorn Kings usually gathered was a large room high up in one of the massive towers of