Guardians of the West

Polgara had a mysterious little smile playing across her lips.
    When they had all finished eating, Garion stretched and yawned somewhat theatrically. "For some reason I'm feeling very tired tonight," he said. "The rest of you can sit up and talk if you'd like, but I think I'll go to bed."
    "That might not be a bad idea, Garion," Polgara told him.
    He got to his feet, and Errand could feel his trembling nervousness. With an almost agonizing casualness he turned to Ce'Nedra. "Coming, dear?" he asked, putting an entire peace proposal into those two words.
    Ce'Nedra looked at him, and her heart was in her eyes.
    "Why -uh- yes, Garion," she said with a rosy little blush, "I believe I will. I seem to be very tired, too."
    "Good night, children," Polgara said to them in tones of warm affection. "Sleep well."
    "What did you say to them?" Belgarath asked his daughter when the royal couple had left the room hand in hand.
    "A great many things, father," she replied smugly.
    "One of them must have done the trick," he said. "Durnik, be a good fellow and top this off for me." He passed his empty tankard to Durnik, who sat beside the ale barrel. Polgara was so pleased with her success that she did not even comment on that.
    It was well after midnight when Errand awoke with a slight start.
    "You're a very sound sleeper," a voice that seemed to be inside his mind said to him.
    "I was dreaming," Errand replied.
    "I noticed that," the voice said drily. "Pull on some clothes. I need you in the throne room."
    Errand obediently got out of bed and pulled on his tunic and his short, soft Sendarian boots.
    "Be quiet," the voice told him. "Let's not wake up Polgara and Durnik."
    Quietly they left the apartment and went down the long, deserted corridors to the Hall of the Rivan King, the vast throne room where, three years before, Errand had placed the Orb of Aldur in Garion's hand and had forever changed the young man's life.
    The huge door creaked slightly as Errand pulled it open, and he heard a voice inside call out, "Who's there?"
    "It's only me, Belgarion," Errand told him.
    The great Hall was illuminated by the soft blue radiance of the Orb of Aldur, standing on the pommel of the huge sword of Riva, hanging point downward above the throne.
    "What are you doing wandering around so late, Errand?" Garion asked him. The Rivan King was sprawled on his throne with his leg cocked up over one of the arms.
    "I was told to come here," Errand replied.
    Garion looked at him strangely. "Told? Who told you?"
    "You know." Errand said, stepping inside the Hall and closing the door. "Him."
    Garion blinked. "Does he talk to you, too?"
    "This is the first time. I've known about him, though."
    "If he's never-" Garion broke off and looked sharply up at the Orb, his eyes startled. The soft blue light of the stone had suddenly changed to a deep, angry red. Errand could very clearly hear a strange sound. For all of the time he had carried the Orb, his ears had been filled with the crystalline shimmer of its song, but now that shimmer seemed to have taken on an ugly iron overtone, as if the stone had encountered something or someone that filled it with a raging anger.
    "Beware!" that voice which they both heard quite clearly said to them in tones which could not be ignored. "Beware Zandramas!"

CHAPTER FIVE
    As soon as it was daylight, the two of them went in search of Belgarath. Errand could sense that Garion was troubled and he himself felt that the warning they had received concerned a matter of such importance that everything else must be set aside in the face of it. They had not really spoken much about it during those dark, silent hours while they sat together in the Hall of the Rivan King, waiting for the first light to touch the eastern horizon. Instead, they had both watched the Orb of Aldur closely, but the stone, after that one strange moment of crimson anger, had returned to its customary azure glow.
    They found Belgarath seated before a recently rekindled fire in a low-beamed hall close to the royal kitchens. On the table not far from where he sat lay a large chunk of bread and a generous slab of cheese. Errand looked at the bread and cheese, realizing suddenly that he was hungry and wondering if Belgarath might be willing to share some of his breakfast. The old sorcerer seemed lost in thought as he gazed into the dancing flames, and his stout gray cloak was drawn about his shoulders, though the hall was not cold.
    "You two are up early." he noted