Castle of Wizardry

studies had given her face a certain seriousness. The look she directed at Lelldorin, however, immediately dispelled any hope. Garion shuddered inwardly at the total lack of anything resembling reason in the gaze these two exchanged. Ariana would not restrain Lelldorin as he crashed headlong into disaster after disaster; she would encourage him; she would cheer him on.
    "My Lord hath awaited thy coming most eagerly," she said to Garion as they followed the others along a broad stone corndor. The very slight stress she put on "My Lord" indicated that while Lelldorin might think that their marriage was one in name only, she did not.
    "We're very good friends," Garion told her. He looked around, a bit embarrassed by the way these two kept staring into each others' eyes. "Is this the Hall of the Rivan King, then?" he asked.
    "'Tis generally called so," Ariana replied. "The Rivans themselves speak with more precision, however. Lord Olban, youngest son of the Rivan Warder, hath most graciously shown us throughout the fortress, and he doth speak of this as the Citadel. The Hall of the Rivan King is the throne room itself."
    "Ah," Garion said, "I see." He looked away quickly, not wanting to see the way all thought vanished from her eyes when they returned to their contemplation of Lelldorin's face.
    King Rhodar of Drasnia, wearing his customary red robe, was sitting in the large, low-beamed dining room where a fire crackled in a cavelike fireplace and a multitude of candles gave off a warm, golden light. Rhodar vastly filled a chair at the head of a long table with the ruins of his lunch spread before him. His crown was hung negligently on the back of his chair, and his round, red face was gleaming with perspiration. "Finally!" he said with a grunt. He waddled ponderously to greet them. He fondly embraced Polgara, kissed Queen Silar and Queen Layla, and took the hands of King Cho-Hag and King Fulrach in his own. "It's been a long time," he said to them. Then he turned to Belgarath. "What took you so long?" he asked.
    "We had a long way to go, Rhodar," the old sorcerer replied, pulling off his cloak and backing up to the broad-arched fireplace. "You don't go from here to Rak Cthol in a week, you know."
    "I hear that you and Ctuchik finally had it out," the king said.
    Silk laughed sardonically. "It was a splendid little get-together, uncle."
    "I'm sorry I missed it." King Rhodar looked inquiringly at Ce'Nedra and Adara, his expression openly admiring. "Ladies," he said to them bowing politely, "if someone will introduce us, I'll be more than happy to bestow a few royal kisses."
    "If Porenn catches you kissing pretty girls, she'll carve out your tripes, Rhodar." King Anheg laughed crudely.
    As Aunt Pol made the introductions, Garion drew back a few paces to consider the havoc Lelldorin had caused in one short week. It was going to take months to unravel it, and there was no guarantee that it would not happen again - indeed, that it would not happen every time the young man got loose.
    "What's the matter with your friend?" It was the Princess Ce'Nedra, and she was tugging on Garion's sleeve.
    "What do you mean, what's the matter with him?"
    "You mean he's always like that?"
    "Lelldorin-" Garion hesitated. "Well, Lelldorin's very enthusiastic about things, and sometimes he speaks or acts without stopping to think." Loyalty made him want to put the best face on it.
    "Garion." Ce'Nedra's gaze was very direct. "I know Arends, and he's the most Arendish Arend I've ever met. He's so Arendish that he's almost incapacitated."
    Garion quickly came to the defense of his friend. "He's not that bad."
    "Really? And Lady Ariana. She's a lovely girl, a skilled physician and utterly devoid of anything remotely resembling thought."
    "They're in love," Garion said, as if that explained everything.
    "What's that got to do with it?"
    "Love does things to people," Garion told her. "It seems to knock holes in their judgment or something."
    "What a fascinating observation," Ce'Nedra replied. "Do go on."
    Garion was too preoccupied with the problem to catch the dangerous lilt in her voice. "As soon as somebody falls in love, all the wits seem to dribble out of the bottom of his head," he continued moodily.
    "What a colorful way to put it," Ce'Nedra said.
    Garion even missed that warning. "It's almost as if it were some kind of disease," he added.
    "Do you know something, Garion?" the princess said in a conversational, almost casual tone of voice.