Demon Lord of Karanda

half as good as Aunt Pol thinks she is, she should be able to give you something that would put a regiment to sleep." He looked at the exhausted man he cautiously considered to be his friend. "I won't be seeing you for a while," he said. "Good luck, and try to take care of yourself, all right?"
    "I'll try, Garion. I'll try."
    Gravely they shook hands, and Garion turned and quietly left the room.
    They were busy for the next several hours. Despite Garion's subterfuges, Brador's secret police dogged their every step. Durnik and Toth and Eriond went to the stables and came back with the horses, trailed closely by the ubiquitous policemen.
    "What's holding things up?" Belgarath demanded when they had all gathered once again in the large room at the top of the stairs with its dais and the throne-like chair at one end.
    "I'm not sure," Silk replied carefully, looking around. "It's just a matter of time, though."
    Then, out on the palace grounds beyond the bolted doors of the east wing, there was the sound of shouting and the thud of running feet, followed by the ring of steel on steel.
    "Something seems to be happening," Velvet said clinically.
    "It's about time," Belgarath grunted.
    "Be nice, Ancient One."
    Within their locked-off building there also came the rapid staccato sound of running. The doors leading out into the rest of the palace and to the grounds began to bang open and then slam shut.
    "Are they all leaving, Pol?" Belgarath asked.
    Her eyes grew distant for a moment. "Yes, father," she said.
    The running and slamming continued for several minutes.
    "My," Sadi said mildly, "weren't there a lot of them?"
    "Will you three stop congratulating yourselves and go bolt those doors again?" Belgarath said.
    Silk grinned and slipped out the door. He came back a few minutes later, frowning. "We've got a bit of a problem," he said. "The guards at the main door seem to have a strong sense of duty. They haven't left their posts. "
    "Great diversion, Silk," Belgarath said sarcastically.
    "Toth and I can deal with them," Durnik said confidently. He went to the box beside the fireplace and picked up a stout chunk of oak firewood.
    "That might be just a bit direct, dear," Polgara murmured. "I'm sure you don't want to kill them, and sooner or later they'll wake up and run straight to Zakath. I think we'll need to come up with something a little more sneaky."
    "I don't care much for that word, Pol," he said stiffly.
    "Would 'diplomatic' put a better light on it?"
    He thought about it. "No," he said, "not really. It means the same thing, doesn't it?"
    "Well," she conceded, "yes, probably. But it sounds nicer, doesn't it?"
    "Polgara," the smith said firmly. It was the first time Garion had ever heard him use her full name. "I'm not trying to be unreasonable, but how can we face the world if we lie and cheat and sneak every time we go around a corner? I mean -really, Pol."
    She looked at him. "Oh, my Durnik," she said, "I love you." She threw her arms about her husband's neck with a sort of girlish exuberance. "You're too good for this world, do you know that?"
    "Well," he said, slightly abashed by a show of affection that he obviously believed should be kept very private, "it's a matter of decency, isn't it?"
    "Of course, Durnik," she agreed in an oddly submissive tone. "Whatever you say."
    "What are we going to do about the guards?" Garion asked.
    "I can manage them, dear." Polgara smiled. "I can arrange it so that they won't see or hear a thing. We'll be able to leave with no one the wiser -assuming that father knows what he's talking about."
    Belgarath looked at her, then suddenly winked. "Trust me," he said. "Durnik, bring the horses inside."
    "Inside?" the smith looked startled.
    Belgarath nodded. "We have to take them down into the cellar."
    "I didn't know that this wing had a cellar," Silk said.
    "Neither does Zakath," Belgarath smirked, "Or Brador."
    "Garion," Ce'Nedra said sharply.
    Garion turned to see a shimmering in the center of the room. Then the blindfolded form of Cyradis appeared.
    "Make haste," she urged them. "Ye must reach Ashaba 'ere the week is out."
    "Ashaba?" Silk exclaimed. "We have to go to Calida. A man named Mengha is raising demons there."
    "That is of no moment, Prince Kheldar. The demons are thy least concern. Know, however, that the one called Mengha also journeys toward Ashaba. He will be caught up in one of the tasks which must be completed 'ere the meeting of the Child of Light and the Child of