Guardians of the West

eyes wide and his mind completely blank.
    "Put me down, you great oaf!"
    "Bed," he urged her, trying with all the eloquence at his command to explain. He carefully set her back down on her feet and rushed on ahead. "Nice bed," he said, patting the coverlets encouragingly.
    Ce'Nedra closed her eyes and sighed. "Just step out of my way, Garion," she said with resignation.
    "But-"
    "Why don't you build up the fire?" she suggested.
    "What?" He stared around blankly.
    "The fireplace -that opening in the wall with the burning logs in it. Put some more wood in there. We want it nice and warm for the baby, don't we?" She reached the bed and leaned against it.
    Garion dashed to the fireplace and stood staring at it stupidly.
    "What's the matter now?"
    "Wood," he replied. "No wood."
    "Bring some in from the other room."
    What an absolutely brilliant suggestion she had just made! He stared at her gratefully.
    "Go into the other room, Garion," she said, speaking very slowly and distinctly. "Pick up some wood. Carry it back in here. Put it on the fire. Have you got all that so far?"
    "Right!" he said excitedly. He dashed into the other room, picked up a stick of firewood, and dashed back in with it.
    "Wood," he said, holding the stick up proudly.
    "Very nice, Garion," she said, climbing laboriously into the bed. "Now put it on the fire and go back out and bring in some more."
    "More," he agreed, flinging the stick into the fireplace and dashing out the door again.
    After he had emptied the woodbin in the sitting room -one stick at a time- he stared around wildly, trying to decide what to do next. He picked up a chair. If he were to swing it against the wall, he reasoned, it ought to break up into manageable pieces.
    The door to the apartment opened, and Polgara came in. She stopped to stare at the wild-eyed Garion. "What on earth are you doing with that chair?" she demanded.
    "Wood," he explained, brandishing the heavy piece of furniture. "Need wood -for the fire."
    She gave him a long look, smoothing down the front of her white apron. "I see," she said. "It's going to be one of those. Put the chair down, Garion. Where's Ce'Nedra?"
    "Bed," he replied, regretfully setting down the polished chair. Then he looked at her brightly. "Baby," he informed her.
    She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "Garion," she said, speaking carefully as if to a child, "it's much too early for Ce'Nedra to be taking to her bed. She needs to walk around -keep moving."
    He shook his head stubbornly. "Bed," he repeated. "Baby." He looked around and picked up the chair again.
    Polgara sighed, opened the door, and beckoned to the sentry. "Young man," she said, "why don't you take his Majesty here down to that courtyard just outside the kitchen? There's a large pile of logs there. Get him an axe so that he can cut up some firewood."
    Everybody was being absolutely brilliant today. Garion marveled at the suggestion Aunt Pol had just made. He set down the chair again and dashed out with the baffled sentry in tow.
    He chopped up what seemed like a cord of wood in the first hour, sending out a positive blizzard of chips as he swung the axe so fast that it seemed almost to blur in the air. Then he paused, pulled off his doublet, and really got down to work. About noon, a respectful cook brought him a slab of freshly roasted beef, a large chunk of bread, and some ale. Garion wolfed down three or four bites, took a couple of gulps of the ale, and then picked up his axe to attack another log. It was altogether possible that he might have finished up with the woodpile outside the kitchen and then gone in search of more trees had not Brand interrupted him shortly before the sun went down.
    The big, gray-haired Warder had a broad grin on his face.
    "Congratulations, Belgarion," he said. "You have a son."
    Garion paused, looking almost regretfully at the remaining logs. Then what Brand had just said finally seeped into his awareness. The axe slid from his fingers. "A son?" he said. "What an amazing thing. And so quickly, too." He looked at the woodpile. "I only just now got here. I always thought that it took much longer."
    Brand looked at him carefully, then gently took him by the arm. "Come along now, Belgarion," he said. "Let's go up and meet your son." Garion bent and carefully picked up an armload of wood.
    "For the fire." he explained. "Ce'Nedra wants a nice fire."
    "She'll be very proud of you, Belgarion," Brand assured him.
    When they reached the royal