Castle of Wizardry

low what had made her say that?
    Polgara said nothing, but her eyes seemed very wise as she watched the princess flounder. Ce'Nedra stumbled along, her objections growing less and less relevant. Even as she argued, she realized that there was no real reason for her not going to Riva. Her refusal seemed frivolouseven childish. Why on earth had she made such a fuss about it? The little boy in her arms smiled encouragingly at her, and, unable to help herself, she smiled back at him, her defenses crumbling. She made one last try. "It's only some silly old formality anyway, Lady Polgara," she said. "There won't be anyone waiting for me in the Hall of the Rivan King - there never has been. The Rivan line is extinct." She tore her eyes away from the child's face. "Do I really have to go?"
    Lady Polgara nodded gravely.
    Ce'Nedra heaved a great sigh. All this bickering seemed so unnecessary. What was the point of making such an issue of a simple trip? It was not as if there was any danger involved. If it would make people happy, why be stubborn about it? "Oh, all right," she surrendered. "If it's so important to everyone, I suppose I can go to Riva." For some reason, saying it made her feel much better. The child in her arms smiled again, gently patted her cheek and went back to sleep. Lost in a sudden inexplicable happiness, the princess nestled her cheek against his curls again and began to rock back and forth gently, crooning very softly.

Part Two - RIVA



Chapter Nine
    ONCE MORE RELG led them through the dark, silent world of the caves, and once more Garion hated every moment of it. It seemed an eternity ago that they had left Prolgu, where Ce'Nedra's farewells to the frail old Gorim had been long and tearful. The princess rather balled Garion, and he gave himself over to some speculation about her as he stumbled along in the musty-smelling darkness. Something had happened at Prolgu. In some very subtle ways, Ce'Nedra was different - and the differences made Garion jumpy for some reason.
    When at last, after uncountable days in the dark, twisting galleries, they emerged once again into the world of light and air, it was through an irregular, brush-choked opening in the wall of a steep ravine. It was snowing heavily outside with large flakes settling softly down through the windless air.
    "Are you sure this is Sendaria?" Barak asked Relg as he bulled his way through the obstructing brush at the cave mouth.
    Relg shrugged, once more binding a veil across his face to protect his eyes from the light. "We're no longer in Ulgo."
    "There are a lot of places that aren't in Ulgo, Relg," Barak reminded him sourly.
    "It sort of looks like Sendaria," King Cho-Hag observed, leaning over in his saddle to stare out of the cave at the softly falling snow. "Can anybody make a guess at the time of day?"
    "It's really very hard to say when it's snowing this hard, father," Hettar told him. "The horses think it's about noon, but their idea of time is a bit imprecise."
    "Wonderful," Silk noted sardonically. "We don't know where we are or what time it is. Things are getting off to a splendid start."
    "It's not really that important, Silk," Belgarath said wearily. "All we have to do is go north. We're bound to run into the Great North Road eventually."
    "Fine," Silk replied. "But which way is north?"
    Garion looked closely at his grandfather as the old man squeezed out into the snowy ravine. The old man's face was etched with lines of weariness, and the hollows under his eyes were dark again. Despite the two weeks or more of convalescence at the Stronghold and Aunt Pol's considered opinion that he was fit to travel, Belgarath had obviously not yet fully recovered from his collapse.
    As they emerged from the cave, they pulled on their heavy cloaks and tightened the cinches on their saddles in preparation to move out.
    "Uninviting sort of place, isn't it?" Ce'Nedra observed to Adara, looking around critically.
    "This is mountain country," Garion told her, quickly coming to the defense of his homeland. "It's no worse than the mountains of eastern Tolnedra."
    "I didn't say it was, Garion," she replied in an infuriating way. They rode for several hours until they heard the sound of axes somewhere off in the forest. "Woodcutters," Durnik surmised. "I'll go talk with them and get directions." He rode off in the direction of the sound. When he returned, he had a slightly disgusted look on his face. "We've been going south," he told them.
    "Naturally,"