Sorceress of Darshiva

She carefully folded the socks she had been mending. "Eriond, I think it's time for you to trim your toenails again. You're cutting your way out of your socks faster than I can mend them."
    "He's gone back to being the way he was before, hasn't he?" Garion said sadly. "Zakath, I mean."
    "Not entirely," Polgara disagreed. "Most of that was a pose to conceal his real feelings." She looked at Belgarath. "Well, father, has Uncle Beldin come up with anything yet?"
    "He was working on something this morning. I can't talk to him right now because he's chasing a rabbit. We'll get back in touch after he finishes his lunch."
    "Can't he concentrate on business?"
    "Oh, come now, Pol. I've known you to go out of your way for a fat rabbit on occasion."
    "You don't!" Ce'Nedra gasped to Polgara, her eyes wide with sudden horror.
    "I really don't think you'd understand, dear," Polgara told her. "Why don't you bring me your gray dress? I noticed a rip in the hem and I've already got my sewing box out."
    They waited out the remainder of the afternoon; after supper, they sat around talking quietly.
    Silk squinted toward the door of the tent, beyond which the guards were posted. "Any luck with Beldin yet?" he whispered to Belgarath.
    "He's working on something—something fairly exotic, I'd imagine, knowing Beldin. He's still hammering out the details. He'll tell me the whole thing once he gets it put together. ''
    "Wouldn't it be better if the two of you worked on it together?"
    "He knows what he has to do. I'd just get in his way if I tried to stick my oar in, too." The old man stretched and yawned. Then he stood up. "I don't know about the rest of you," he said, "but I think I'll go to bed."
    The next morning, Garion rose quietly, dressed, and slipped out of the curtained-off chamber, leaving Ce'Nedra still asleep. Durnik and Toth were seated at the table in the main part of the pavilion with Belgarath.
    "Don't ask me how he did it," Belgarath was saying. "All he told me was that Cyradis agreed to come here when Toth summoned her.''
    Durnik and Toth exchanged a few gestures. "He says he can do that," the smith translated. "Do you want her to come here now?"
    Belgarath shook his head. "No, let's wait until Zakath is in here with us. I know how much it tires her to project her image over long distances." He made a face.
    "Beldin suggests that we let the conversation get to a climax before we send for her, Beldin has urges in the direction of melodrama sometimes. We’ve all talked to him about it over the years, but he backslides from time to time. Good morning, Garion."
    Garion nodded briefly to each of them, then sat at the table. "What's Cyradis going to be able to do that we can't?" he asked.
    "I'm not sure," Belgarath replied. "We all know that she has a peculiar effect on Zakath, though. He tends to lose his grip on things every time he sees her. Beldin wouldn't tell me exactly what he's got in mind, but he sounded disgustingly pleased with himself. Do you feel up to some theatricality this morning?"
    "Not really, but I suppose I can manage something."
    "You're supposed to goad Zakath a little—not too much, mind, but push him into making some threats. That's when we're supposed to call Cyradis. Don't be too obvious about it. Sort of lead him into it gradually." The old man looked at Toth. "Keep your eyes on me when Garion and Zakath start arguing," he instructed. "I'll cover my mouth and cough. That's when we'll need your mistress."
    Toth nodded.
    "Are we going to tell the others?" Garion asked.
    Belgarath squinted. "No," he decided. "Their reactions might be more natural if they don't know what's going on."
    Durnik smiled slightly. "I'd say that Beldin isn't the only one with a flair for the dramatic."
    "I used to be a professional storyteller, Durnik," Belgarath reminded him. "I can play an audience like a lute."
    After the others had awakened and breakfast had been served, General Atesca came into the tent. "His Imperial Majesty instructs that you make ready. You'll be departing for Mal Zeth within the hour.''
    Garion moved quickly to head that off. "Tell his Imperial Majesty that we're not going anyplace until we finish the conversation we started yesterday."
    Atesca looked momentarily startled, then recovered. "People do not speak so to the Emperor, your Majesty," he declared.
    "He might find it refreshing, then."
    Atesca drew himself up. "The Emperor is otherwise occupied at the moment."
    Garion leaned back in his chair