Magician's Gambit

any signs-"
    "-of Torak stirring?" the twins asked.
    "Can't you two ever talk straight?" Beldin demanded.
    "We're sorry-"
    "-it's our nature."
    The ugly little man shook his head with disgust. "Never mind. No. Torak didn't move once in the whole five hundred years. There was mold on him when Belzedar dragged him out of the cave."
    "Did you follow Belzedar?" Belgarath asked.
    "Naturally."
    "Where did he take Torak?"
    "Now where do you think, idiot? To the ruins of Cthol Mishrak in Mallorea, of course. There are only a few places on earth that will bear Torak's weight, and that's one of them. Belzedar will have to keep Ctuchik and the Orb away from Torak, and that's the only place he could go. The Mallorean Grolims refuse to accept Ctuchik's authority, so Belzedar will be safe there. It will cost him a great deal to pay for their aid, but they'll keep Ctuchik out of Mallorea - unless he raises an army of Murgos and invades."
    "That's something we could hope for," Barak said.
    "You're supposed to be a bear, not a donkey," Beldin told him. "Don't base your hopes on the impossible. Neither Ctuchik nor Belzedar would start that sort of war at this particular time - not with Belgarion here stalking through the world like an earthquake." He scowled at Aunt Pol. "Can't you teach him to be a little quieter? Or are your wits getting as flabby as your behind?"
    "Be civil, uncle," she replied. "The boy's just coming into his strength. We were all a bit clumsy at first."
    "He doesn't have time to be a baby, Pol. The stars are dropping into southern Cthol Murgos like poisoned roaches, and dead Grolims are moaning in their tombs from Rak Cthol to Rak Hagga. The time's on us, and he has to be ready."
    "He'll be ready, uncle."
    "Maybe," the filthy man said sourly.
    "Are you going back to Cthol Mishrak?" Belgarath asked.
    "No. Our Master told me to stay here. The twins and I have work to do and we don't have much time."
    "He spoke to-"
    "-us, too."
    "Stop that!" Beldin snapped. He turned back to Belgarath. "Are you going to Rak Cthol now?"
    "Not yet. We've got to go to Prolgu first. I have to talk to the Gorim, and we've got to pick up another member of the party."
    "I noticed that your group wasn't complete yet. What about the last one?"
    Belgarath spread his hands. "That's the one that worries me. I haven't been able to find any trace of her - and I've been looking for three thousand years."
    "You spent too much time looking in alehouses."
    "I noticed the same thing, uncle," Aunt Pol said with a sweet little smile.
    "Where do we go after Prolgu?" Barak asked.
    "I think that then we'll go to Rak Cthol," Belgarath replied rather grimly. "We've got to get the Orb back from Ctuchik, and I've been meaning to have a rather pointed discussion with the magician of the Murgos for a long, long time, now."

Part Three - ULGO

Chapter Thirteen
    THE FOLLOWING MORNING they turned northwest and rode toward the stark, white peaks of the mountains of Ulgo, glittering in the morning sun above the lush meadows of the Vale.
    "Snow up there," Barak observed. "It could be a difficult trip."
    "It always is," Hettar told him.
    "Have you been to Prolgu before?" Durnik asked.
    "A few times. We keep communications open with the Ulgos. Our visits are mostly ceremonial."
    Princess Ce'Nedra had been riding beside Aunt Pol, her tiny face troubled. "How can you stand him, Lady Polgara?" she burst out finally. "He's so ugly."
    "Who's that, dear?"
    "That awful dwarf."
    "Uncle Beldin?" Aunt Pol looked mildly surprised. "He's always been like that. You have to get to know him, that's all."
    "But he says such terrible things to you."
    "It's the way he hides his real feelings," Aunt Pol explained. "He's a very gentle person, really, but people don't expect that - coming from him. When he was a child, his people drove him out because he was so deformed and hideous. When he finally came to the Vale, our Master saw past the ugliness to the beauty in his mind."
    "But does he have to be so dirty?"
    Aunt Pol shrugged slightly. "He hates his deformed body, so he ignores it." She looked at the princess, her eyes calm. "It's the easiest thing in the world to judge things by appearances, Ce'Nedra," she said, "and it's usually wrong. Uncle Beldin and I are very fond of each other. That's why we take the trouble to invent such elaborate insults. Compliments would be hypocrisy - he is, after all, very ugly."
    "I just don't understand." Ce'Nedra sounded baffled.
    "Love can show itself