King of The Murgos

want to have to fish you out of the sea."
    "You know something, Kheldar?" Urgit said, blinking owlishly. "I don't think I've ever felt quite this good." He looked at Ce'Nedra and the dark-haired Prala. "You know something else? Those are a couple of awfully pretty girls there. Do you think they might like to sing with us?"
    "We could ask them."
    "Why don't we?"
    The pair of them descended on Ce'Nedra and her Murgo companion, imploring them outrageously to join them in song. Prala laughed as the Murgo King lurched forward and back with the roll of the ship. "I think you two are drunk," she declared.
    "Are we drunk?" Urgit asked Silk, still swaying on his feet.
    "I certainly hope so," Silk replied. "If we aren't, we've wasted a great deal of very good wine."
    "I guess we're drunk then. Now that's been settled, what shall we sing?"
    "Alorns!" Ce'Nedra sighed, rolling her eyes skyward.
    It was raining the following morning when they awoke, a chill drizzle that hissed into the sea and collected to run in heavy droplets down the tarred ropes of the rigging. Polgara joined them for breakfast in the larger cabin at the extreme aft end of the companionway, though she seemed silent and withdrawn.
    Velvet looked brightly around the cabin, where stoutly constructed windows instead of portholes stretched across the stern and heavy beams held up a ceiling which was actually the deck above. She looked pointedly at the two conspicuously empty chairs at the breakfast table. "What's become of Prince Kheldar and his wayward royal brother?" she asked.
    "I think they lingered a bit too long over their wine cups yesterday," Ce'Nedra replied with a slightly malicious smirk. "I'd imagine that they're feeling just a bit delicate this morning."
    "Would you believe that they were singing?" Prala said.
    "Oh?" Velvet said. "Were they doing it well?"
    Prala laughed. "They frightened away the seagulls. I've never heard such dreadful noise."
    Polgara and Durnik had been talking quietly at the far end of the table. "I'm perfectly fine, Durnik," she assured him. "You go right ahead."
    "I don't want to leave you alone, Pol," he told her.
    "I won't be alone, dear. Ce'Nedra, Prala, and Liselle will all be with me. If you don't find out for yourself, you'll wonder about it for the rest of your life and always regret the fact that you passed the opportunity by."
    "Well—if you're sure, Pol."
    "I'm certain, dear," she said, laying her hand fondly on his and kissing his cheek.
    After breakfast, Garion pulled on a cloak and went out on deck. He stood squinting up into the drizzle for a few minutes, then turned as he heard the companionway door open behind him. Durnik and Toth emerged with fishing poles in their hands. "It only stands to reason, Toth," Durnik was saying. "With that much water, there almost have to be fish."
    Toth nodded, then made a peculiar gesture, extending both his arms out as if measuring something.
    "I don't quite follow you."
    Toth made the gesture again.
    "Oh, I'm sure they wouldn't be all that big," the smith disagreed. "Fish don't get that big, do they?"
    Toth nodded vigorously.
    "I don't mean to doubt you," Durnik said seriously, "but I'd have to see that."
    Toth shrugged,
    "Quite a beautiful morning, isn't it, Garion?" Durnik said, smiling up at the dripping sky. Then he went up the three steps to the aft deck, nodded pleasantly to the steersman at the tiller, and then made a long, smooth cast out into the frothy wake. He looked critically at his trailing lure. "I think we're going to need some weight on the lines to hold them down, don't you?" he said to Toth.
    The giant smiled slightly, then nodded his agreement.
    "Have Silk and Urgit managed to get up yet?" Garion called to them.
    "Hmm?" Durnik replied, his eyes fixed intently on his brightly colored lure bobbing far back in their wake.
    "I said, are Silk and his brother up yet?"
    "Oh—yes, I think I heard them stirring around in their cabin. Toth, we're definitely going to need something to weight down the lines."
    Belgarath came up on deck just then, with his shabby old cloak pulled tightly around his shoulders. He looked sourly out through the drizzle at the half-concealed coast sliding by to port and went forward to stand amidships.
    Garion joined him there. "How long do you think it's going to take us to get to Verkat, Grandfather?" he asked.
    "A couple of weeks," the old man replied, "if this weather doesn't get any worse. We're a long way south and we're coming up on