Demon Lord of Karanda

instruction, your Majesty."
    "All right," Garion said, throwing off his blankets, and swinging around to put his feet on the cold floor.
    "Give me a minute or so to get dressed."
    "Of course, your Majesty."
    Muttering to himself, Garion began to pull on his clothes by the faint light coming from the brazier in the corner. When he was dressed, he splashed cold water on his face and raked his fingers through his sandy hair, trying to push it into some semblance of order. Almost as an afterthought he ducked his head and arm through the strap attached to the sheath of Iron-grip's sword and shrugged it into place across his back. Then he opened the door. " All right," he said to the messenger, "let's go."
    Kal Zakath's study was a book-lined room with several leather-upholstered chairs, a large polished table and a crackling fire on the hearth. The Emperor, still clad in plain white linen, sat in a chair at the table, shuffling through a stack of parchment sheets by the light of a single oil lamp.
    "You wanted to see me, Zakath?" Garion asked as he entered the room.
    "Ah, yes, Belgarion," Zakath said, pushing aside the parchments. "So good of you to come. I understand that your wife is recovering."
    Garion nodded. "Thank you again for sending Andel. Her aid was very helpful."
    "My pleasure, Belgarion." Zakath reached out and lowered the wick in the lamp until the corners of the room filled with shadows. "I thought we might talk a little," he said.
    "Isn't it sort of late?"
    "I don't sleep very much, Belgarion. A man can lose a third of his life in sleep. The day is filled with bright lights and distractions; the night is dim and quiet and allows much greater concentration. Please, sit down."
    Garion unbuckled his sword and leaned it against a bookcase.
    "I'm not really all that dangerous, you know," the Emperor said, looking pointedly at the great weapon.
    Garion smiled slightly, settling into a chair by the fire. "I didn't bring it because of you, Zakath. It's just a habit. It's not the kind of sword you want to leave lying around."
    "I don't think anyone would steal it, Belgarion."
    "It can't be stolen. I just don't want anybody getting hurt by accidentally touching it."
    "Do you mean to say that it's that sword?"
    Garion nodded. "I'm sort of obliged to take care of it.
    It's a nuisance most of the time, but there've been a few occasions when I was glad I had it with me."
    "What really happened at Cthol Mishrak?" Zakath asked suddenly. "I've heard all sorts of stories."
    Garion nodded wryly. "So have I. Most of them get the names right, but not very much else. Neither Torak nor I had very much control over what happened. We fought, and I stuck that sword into his chest."
    "And he died?" Zakath's face was intent.
    "Eventually, yes."
    "Eventually?"
    "He vomited fire first and wept flames. Then he cried out."
    "What did he say?"
    " 'Mother,' " Garion replied shortly. He didn't really want to talk about it.
    "What an extraordinary thing for him to do. Whatever happened to his body? I had the entire ruin of Cthol Mishrak searched for him."
    "The other Gods came and took it. Do you suppose we could talk about something else? Those particular memories are painful."
    "He was your enemy."
    Garion sighed. "He was also a God, Zakath -and killing a God is a terrible thing to have to do."
    "You're a strangely gentle man, Belgarion. I think I respect you more for that than I do for your invincible courage."
    "I'd hardly say invincible. I was terrified the whole time -and so was Torak, I think. Was there something you really wanted to talk about?"
    Zakath leaned back in his chair, tapping thoughtfully at his pursed lips. "You know that eventually you and I will have to confront each other, don't you?"
    "No," Garion disagreed. "That's not absolutely certain."
    "There can only be one King of the World."
    Garion's look grew pained. "I've got enough trouble trying to rule one small island. I've never wanted to be King of the World."
    "But I have -and do."
    Garion sighed. "Then we probably will fight at that sooner or later. I don't think the world was intended to be ruled by one man. If you try to do that, I'll have to stop you."
    "I am unstoppable, Belgarion."
    "So was Torak -or at least he thought so."
    "That's blunt enough."
    "It helps to avoid a lot of misunderstandings later on. I'd say that you've got enough trouble at home without trying to invade my kingdom -or those of my friends. That's not to mention the stalemate here in Cthol