Demon Lord of Karanda

Mallorean carpets covered the floor and soft green velvet drapes covered the tall, narrow windows. Ce'Nedra lay in a high-posted bed, against the wall opposite the door, and Polgara was seated at the bedside, her expression grave.
    "Has there been any change?" Garion asked her, softly closing the door behind him.
    "Nothing as yet," she replied.
    Ce'Nedra's face was pale as she slept with her crimson curls tumbled on her pillow.
    "She is going to be all right, isn't she?" Garion asked.
    "I'm sure of it, Garion."
    Another woman sat near the bed. She wore a light green, cowled robe; despite the fact that she was indoors, she had the hood pulled up, partially concealing her face.
    Ce'Nedra muttered something in a strangely harsh tone and tossed her head restlessly on her pillow. The cowled woman frowned. "Is this her customary voice, Lady Polgara?" she asked.
    Polgara looked at her sharply. "No," she replied. " As a matter of fact, it's not."
    "Would the drug you gave her in some way affect the sound of her speech?"
    "No, it wouldn't. Actually, she shouldn't be making any sounds at all."
    " Ah," the woman said. "I think perhaps I understand now." She leaned forward and very gently laid the fingertips of one hand on Ce'Nedra's lips. She nodded then and withdrew her hand. " As I suspected," she murmured.
    Polgara also reached out to touch Ce'Nedra's face.
    Garion heard the faint whisper of her will, and the candle at the bedside flared up slightly, then sank back until its flame was scarcely more than a pinpoint. "I should have guessed," Polgara accused herself.
    "What is it?" Garion asked in alarm.
    "Another mind is seeking to dominate your wife and to subdue her will, your Majesty," the cowled woman told him. "It's an art sometimes practiced by the Grolims. They discovered it quite by accident during the third age."
    "This is Andel, Garion," Polgara told him. "Zakath sent her here to help care for Ce'Nedra."
    Garion nodded briefly to the hooded woman." Exactly what do we mean by the word 'dominate'?" he asked.
    "You should be more familiar with that than most people, Garion," Polgara said. "I'm sure you remember Asharak the Murgo." Garion felt a sudden chill, remembering the force of the mind that had from his earliest childhood sought that same control over his awareness. "Drive it out," he pleaded. "Get whomever it is out of her mind."
    "Perhaps not quite yet, Garion," Polgara said coldly. "We have an opportunity here. Let's not waste it."
    "I don't understand."
    "You will, dear," she told him. Then she rose, sat on the edge of the bed and lightly laid one hand on each of Ce'Nedra's temples. The faint whisper came again, stronger this time, and once again the candles all flared and then sank back as if suffocating. "I know you're in there," she said then. "You might as well speak."
    Ce'Nedra's expression grew contorted, and she tossed her head back and forth as if trying to escape the hands touching her temples. Polgara's face grew stern, and she implacably kept her hands in place. The pale lock in her hair began to glow, and a strange chill came into the room, seeming to emanate from the bed itself.
    Ce'Nedra suddenly screamed.
    "Speak!" Polgara commanded. "You cannot flee until I release you, and I will not release you until you speak."
    Ce'Nedra's eyes suddenly opened. They were filled with hate. "I do not fear thee, Polgara," she said in a harsh, rasping voice delivered in a peculiar accent.
    "And I fear you even less. Now, who are you?"
    "Thou knowest me, Polgara."
    "Perhaps, but I will have your name from you."
    There was a long pause, and the surge of Polgara's will grew stronger.
    Ce'Nedra screamed again -a scream filled with an agony that made Garion flinch. "Stop!" the harsh voice cried. "I will speak!"
    "Say your name," Polgara insisted implacably.
    "I am Zandramas."
    "So. What do you hope to gain by this?"
    An evil chuckle escaped Ce'Nedra's pale lips. "I have already stolen her heart, Polgara -her child. Now I will steal her mind as well. I could easily kill her if I chose, but a dead Queen may be buried and her grave left behind. A mad one, on the other hand, will give thee much to distract thee from thy search for the Sardion."
    "I can banish you with a snap of my fingers, Zandramas."
    "And I can return just as quickly."
    A frosty smile touched Polgara's lips. "You're not nearly as clever as I thought," she said. "Did you actually believe that I twisted your name out of you for my own amusement? Were you