Enchanter's End Game

"Each of those ships carried two hundred men."
    "King Anheg is an Alorn, your Majesty," Ce'Nedra replied coolly. "They're an unpredictable people."
    With a great deal of effort, 'Zakath regained his composure. "I see," he said after a moment's reflection. "This was your plan from the beginning, wasn't it, Princess? The entire attack on Thull Mardu was a subterfuge."
    "Not entirely, your Majesty. I was assured that the city had to be neutralized to permit the passage of the fleet."
    "But why is he drowning my soldiers? I bear the Alorns no malice."
    "Torak does - or so I'm told - and it is Torak who will command the combined armies of Angarak. We cannot allow your forces to land on this continent, your Majesty. We cannot give Torak that advantage."
    "Torak is asleep - and he's likely to remain so for a number of years yet."
    "Our information indicates that it will not be nearly so long. Belgarath himself is convinced that the time is near at hand."
    His eyes narrowed slightly. "I must hand you all over to the Grolims, then," he said. "I'd hoped to wait until Polgara had regained her strength before subjecting her to the journey; but if what you say is true, there is little time to waste. Advise your friends to make their preparations, Princess. You will depart for Thull Zelik tomorrow morning."
    "As your Majesty wishes," Ce'Nedra replied, a chill going down her spine as she bowed her head in acquiescence.
    "I am a secular man, Princess," he said by way of explanation. "I bow to the altar of Torak when the occasion demands it, but I make no pretence at excessive piety. I will not involve myself in a religious dispute between Belgarath and Zedar, and I most certainly will not stand between Torak and Aldur when they confront each other. I would strongly advise you to follow the same course."
    "That decision is not mine to make, your Majesty. My part in this was decided for me long before I was born."
    He looked amused. "The Prophecy, you mean? We Angaraks have one also, Princess, and I don't imagine yours is any more reliable than ours. Prophecy is no more than a trick of the priesthood to maintain its grip on the gullible."
    "Then you believe in nothing, my Lord?"
    "I believe in my own power. Nothing else makes any sense."
    The Grolims who escorted them in easy stages northward across the summer-browned plains of Mishrak ac Thull toward Thull Zelik were coldly proper. Ce'Nedra could not be sure if their behavior was the result of warnings from the Emperor of Mallorea or their fear of Polgara. The stifling heat was past now, and the air smelled faintly of the dusty end of summer. The Thullish plain was dotted with villages, random collections of thatch-roofed cottages and dirt streets. The villagers watched, sullen and afraid, as the priests of Torak rode through the little towns, their faces cold and aloof.
    The plain to the west of Thull Zelik was covered with the red tents of the vast staging area that had been erected for the Mallorean army. With the exception of caretaker detachments, however, the huge camp was empty. The troops already in Mishrak ac Thull were with 'Zakath near Thull Mardu, and the steady stream of new arrivals had been quite suddenly cut off.
    Thull Zelik itself was like any port town in the world, smelling of salt water, fish, tar, and rotting seaweed. The gray stone buildings were low and squat, almost like the Thulls themselves, and the cobblestoned streets all sloped down to the harbor, which lay in the curve of a broad estuary and faced a somewhat similar harbor on the other side.
    "What city is that?" Ce'Nedra curiously asked one of the Grolims as she looked across the dirty water toward the far shore.
    "Yar Marak," the black-robed priest answered curtly.
    "Ah," she said, remembering now her tedious geography lessons. The two cities, one Thullish, the other Nadrak, faced each other across the estuary at the mouth of the River Cordu, and the boundary between Mishrak ac Thull and Gar og Nadrak ran down the precise center of the river.
    "When the Emperor returns from Thull Mardu, I imagine he'll take steps to eradicate that place over there," one of the other Grolims added. "He was not pleased with the behavior of King Drosta on the battlefield, and some chastisement seems in order."
    They proceeded directly down a cobbled avenue to the harbor, where but a few ships were moored to the wharves.
    "My crew absolutely refuses to put to sea," the Mallorean captain of the ship upon which they were to