Pawn of Prophecy

"Oh," she said softly, "it finally happened, I see."
    "I couldn't control it, Polgara," Barak said in misery.
    "It'll be all right, Barak," she said, gently touching his bowed head.
    "It'll never be all right again," Barak said.
    "Get some sleep," she told him. "It won't seem so bad in the morning."
    The huge man turned and quietly left the room.
    Garion knew they were talking about the strange thing he had seen when Barak had rescued him from the boar, and he wanted to ask Aunt Pol about it; but the bitter drink she had given him pulled him down into a deep and dreamless sleep before tIe could put the words together to ask the question.

Chapter Sixteen
    THE NEXT DAY Garion was too stiff and sore to even think about getting out of bed. A stream of visitors, however, kept him too occupied to think about his aches and pains. The visits from the Alorn Kings in their splendid robes were particularly flattering, and each of them praised his courage. Then the queens came and made a great fuss over his injuries, offering warm sympathy and gentle, stroking touches to his forehead. The combination of praise, sympathy and the certain knowledge that he was the absolute center of attention was overwhelming, and his heart was full.
    The last visitor of the day, however, was Mister Wolf, who came when evening was creeping through the snowy streets of Val Alorn. The old man wore his usual tunic and cloak, and his hood was turned up as if he had been outside.
    "Have you seen my boar, Mister Wolf?" Garion asked proudly.
    "An excellent animal," Wolf said, though without much enthusiasm, "but didn't anyone tell you it's customary to jump out of the way after the boar has been speared?"
    "I didn't really think about it," Garion admitted, "but wouldn't that seem - well - cowardly?"
    "Were you that concerned about what a pig might think of you?"
    "Well," Garion faltered, "not really, I guess."
    "You're developing an amazing lack of good sense for one so young," Wolf observed. "It normally takes years and years to reach the point you seem to have arrived at overnight." He turned to Aant Pol, who sat nearby. "Polgara, are you quite certain that there's no hint of Arendish blood in our Garion's background? He's been behaving most Arendish lately. First he rides the Great Maelstrom like a rocking horse, and then he tries to break a wild boar's tusks with his ribs. Are you sure you didn't drop him on his head when he was a baby?"
    Aunt Pol smiled, but said nothing.
    "I hope you recover soon, boy," Wolf said, "and try to give some thought to what I've said."
    Garion sulked, mortally offended by Mister Wolf's words. Tears welled up in his eyes despite all his efforts to control them.
    "Thank you for stopping by, Father," Aunt Pol said.
    "It's always a pleasure to call on you, my daughter," Wolf said and quietly left the room.
    "Why did he have to talk to me like that?" Garion burst out, wiping his nose. "Now he's gone and spoiled it all."
    "Spoiled what, dear?" Aunt Pol asked, smoothing the front of her gray dress.
    "All of it," Garion complained. "The kings all said I was very brave."
    "Kings say things like that," Aunt Pol said. "I wouldn't pay too much attention, if I were you."
    "I was brave, wasn't I?"
    "I'm sure you were, dear," she said. "And I'm sure the pig was very impressed."
    "You're as bad as Mister Wolf is," Garion accused.
    "Yes, dear," she said, "I suppose I probably am, but that's only natural. Now, what would you like for supper?"
    "I'm not hungry," Garion said defiantly.
    "Really? You probably need a tonic then. I'll fix you one."
    "I think I've changed my mind," Garion said quickly.
    "I rather thought you might," Aunt Pol said. And then, without explanation, she suddenly put her arms around him and held him close to her for a long time. "What am I going to do with you?" she said finally.
    "I'm all right, Aunt Pol," he assured her.
    "This time perhaps," she said, taking his face between her hands. "It's a splendid thing to be brave, my Garion, but try once in a while to think a little bit first. Promise me."
    "All right, Aunt Pol," he said, a little embarrassed by all this. Oddly enough she still acted as if she really cared about him. The idea that there could still be a bond between them even if they were not related began to dawn on him. It could never be the same, of course, but at least it was something. He began to feel a little better about the whole thing.
    The next day he was able to get up. His muscles still ached a