Guardians of the West

story, "we paid a short visit to that surviving assassin. His right foot has been branded with that particular mark."
    "So now we know," Hettar said.
    "We do indeed," Belgarath replied.
    "Prithee," Mandorallen said, frowning in perplexity, "I have always been advised that the aim of this obscure religious denomination hath been the reunification of Aloria, that titanic empire of the north which existed under the reign of King Cherek Bear-shoulders, the mightiest ruler of antiquity.
    "It may very well still be," Belgarath told him, "but if this Ulfgar had succeeded in putting Riva and Cherek at each other's throats, he might have been able to topple Drasnia and possibly Algaria as well. With Anheg and Garion concentrating on destroying each other, it probably wouldn't have been all that difficult for him to have taken their two kingdoms as well."
    "Particularly with that fleet his people are building at Jarviksholm," Anheg added.
    "His strategy seems at once very simple and yet very complex," General Brendig mused, "and I think it came very close to working."
    "Too close," Polgara said. "What are we going to do about this, father?"
    "I think we'll have to take steps," Belgarath replied. "This fellow Ulfgar still wants to reunite Aloria -but with himself as the successor to Bear-shoulders. The cult has tried subversion for three millennia. Now apparently they're going to try open war."
    Garion's face grew bleak. "Well," he said, "if it's a war they want, they've come to the right place."
    "I might drink to that," Anheg agreed. He thought for a moment. "If you're open to any suggestions, I think it might be a good idea if we destroy Jarviksholm before we move on Rheon. We don't want those Cherek cultists coming up behind us on the moors of eastern Drasnia and we definitely don't want a cult fleet in the Sea of the Winds. If even half of what Greldik says is true, we're going to have to burn out those shipyards before they get their warships into the water. You could mount a very successful attack on Rheon, Garion, and then come home to find a hostile force occupying Riva itself."
    Garion considered that. "All right, then," he agreed. "We'll go to Jarviksholm first. Then we'll go to Rheon and have a little chat with this Ulfgar. I really want to look at a man who thinks he's big enough to fill Bear-shoulders' shoes."

CHAPTER NINETEEN
    "I'm sorry, Kail," Garion told his friend as they sat together in Garion's study with the morning sun streaming golden through the window, "but I have to have you and your brothers here at Riva. I'm taking most of our forces with me, and someone has to stay here to defend the city in case some of the cultists' ships slip around behind us."
    Kail's face was angry. "That's not the real reason is it?" he accused.
    "Not entirely, no," Garion admitted. "I know how much you all loved your father and I know how much you want revenge on the people responsible for his murder."
    "Isn't that only natural?"
    "Of course it is, but people caught up in those feelings don't think clearly. They get rash and do things that put them in danger. Your family has shed enough blood already -first your brother Olban, then Arell, and now your father- so I'm not taking any chances with the rest of you."
    Kail stood up, his face red with suppressed anger. "Does your Majesty have any further instructions for me?" he asked stay.
    Garion sighed. "No, Kail," he said, "not at the moment. You know what to do here."
    "Yes, your Majesty." Kail bowed curtly, turned and left the room.
    Belgarath came into Garion's study through the other door.
    "He didn't like it," Garion said.
    "I didn't think he would." The old man shrugged, scratching at one bearded cheek. "But he's too important here in the Citadel for us to be risking his life. He'll be angry for a while, but he'll get over it."
    "Is Aunt Pol staying behind, too?"
    Belgarath made a face. "No. She insists on going. At least the other ladies have sense enough to realize that a battlefield is no place for a woman! I think we ought to leave Errand here, too. He has no sense of personal danger, and that's not a good trait when the fighting starts. You'd better finish here. The morning tide's turning, and we're almost ready to start."
    As the Seabird moved out of the harbor that sunny morning with a flotilla of stout Rivan ships following her, Garion and the others gathered in the spacious, low-beamed aft cabin, poring over maps and discussing strategy.
    "The inlet that runs up