Guardians of the West

gentle kind of awareness, and it was dominated by an overpowering desire to know. The presence of the God Aldur here in the Vale was not some vague spiritual permeation, but rather was quite sharp, on the very edge of being palpable.
    They moved on down into the Vale, riding at an easy pace through the tall, winter-browned grass. Broad trees dotted the open expanse, lifting their crowns to the sky, holding the tips of their branches, swollen with the urgency of budding leaves, up to receive the gentle kiss of sun-warmed air.
    "Well, boy?" Belgarath said after they had ridden a league or more.
    "Where are the towers?" Errand asked politely.
    "A bit farther. How did you know about the towers?"
    "You and Polgara spoke of them."
    "Eavesdropping is a very bad habit, Errand."
    "Was it a private conversation?"
    "No, I suppose not."
    "Then it wasn't eavesdropping, was it?"
    Belgarath turned sharply, looking over his shoulder at the boy riding behind him. "That's a pretty fine distinction for somebody as young as you are. How did you arrive at it?"
    Errand shrugged. "It just came to me. Do they always graze here like that?" He pointed at a dozen or so reddishbrown deer feeding calmly nearby.
    "They have done so ever since I can remember. There's something about Aldur's presence that keeps animals from molesting each other."
    They passed a pair of graceful towers linked by a peculiar, almost airy bridge arching between them, and Belgarath told him that they belonged to Beltira and Belkira, the twin sorcerers whose minds were so closely linked that they inevitably completed each other's sentences. A short while later they rode by a tower so delicately constructed of rose quartz that it seemed almost to float like a pink jewel in the lambent air. This tower, Belgarath told him, belonged to the hunchbacked Beldin, who had surrounded his own ugliness with a beauty so exquisite that it snatched one's breath away.
    At last they reached Belgarath's own squat, functional tower and dismounted. "Well," the old man said, "here we are. Let's go up."
    The room at the top of the tower was large, round, and incredibly cluttered. As he looked around at it, Belgarath's eyes took on a defeated look. "This is going to take weeks," he muttered.
    A great many things in the room attracted Errand's eye, but he knew that, in Belgarath's present mood, the old man would not be inclined to show him or explain to him much of anything. He located the fireplace, found a tarnished brass scoop and a short-handled broom, and knelt in front of the cavernous, soot-darkened opening.
    "What are you doing?" Belgarath asked.
    "Durnik says that the first thing you should do in a new place is get a spot ready for your fire."
    "Oh, he does, does he?"
    "It's not usually a very big chore, but it gets you started and once you get started, the rest of the job doesn't look so big. Durnik's very wise about things like that. Do you have a pail or a dust bin of some kind?"
    "You're going to insist on cleaning the fireplace?"
    "Well -if you don't mind too much. It is pretty dirty, don't you think?"
    Belgarath sighed. "Pol and Durnik have corrupted you already, boy," he said. "I tried to save you, but a bad influence like that always wins out in the end."
    "I suppose you're right," Errand agreed. "Where did you say that pail was?"
    By evening they had cleared a semicircular area around the fireplace, finding in the process a couple of couches, several chairs, and a sturdy table.
    "I don't suppose you have anything to eat stored anyplace?" Errand said wistfully. His stomach told him that it was definitely moving on toward suppertime.
    Belgarath looked up from a parchment scroll he had just fished out from under one of the couches. "What?" he asked. "Oh yes. I'd almost forgotten. We'll go visit the twins. They're bound to have something on the fire."
    "Do they know we're coming?"
    Belgarath shrugged. "That doesn't really matter, Errand. You must learn that that's what friends and family are for -to be imposed upon. One of the cardinal rules, if you want to get through life without overexerting yourself, is that, when all else fails, fall back on friends and relations."
    The twin sorcerers, Beltira and Belkira, were overjoyed to see them, and the "something on the fire" turned out to be a savory stew that was at least as good as one that might have emerged from Polgara's kitchen.
    When Errand commented on that, Belgarath looked amused. "Who do think taught her how to cook?" he