Sorceress of Darshiva

turn into a horse race."
    "I'll talk to Atesca," Zakath said. "He might be able to delay them a bit." He looked speculatively at the old man. "I know why I'm going to Kell," he said, "but why are you!"
    "I have to read the Mallorean Gospels to find out what our ultimate destination is."
    "You mean you don't know?"
    "Not yet, no. I know what it's called, though. They keep calling it the Place Which Is No More."
    "Belgarath, that's pure gibberish."
    "I didn't come up with the name, so don't blame me,"
    "Why didn't you say something back at Mat Zeth? I have a copy of the Gospels in my library."
    "In the first place, I didn't know about it when I was at Mal Zeth. I only found out recently. In the second place, your copy wouldn't have done me any good. They're all different, I'm told, and the only one that contains the passage I need is at Kell."
    "It all sounds very complicated."
    "It is. These things usually are."
    Zakath went to the door of the tent and spoke briefly with one of the guards posted there. Then he came back. "I've sent for Atesca and Brador," he said. He smiled a bit ruefully. "I wouldn't be surprised if they objected rather violently to this whole thing."
    "Don't give them time to object," Garion advised.
    "They're both Melcenes, Garion," Zakath pointed out. "Melcenes object to things out of habit." He frowned. "Speaking of that, why did you go to Melcena? Wasn't it a bit out of your way?"
    "We were following Zandramas," Garion replied.
    "Why did she go there?"
    "She had to pick up your cousin, Archduke Otrath."
    "That silly ass? What for?"
    "She took him to Hemil and crowned him Emperor of Mallorea."
    "She did what?’ Zakath's eyes bulged.
    "She needs an Angarak king with her when she gets to the Place Which Is No More. As I understand it, the coronation ceremony had a certain validity."
    "Not after I get my hands on Otrath, it won't!" Zakath's face was scarlet with anger.
    " There was another reason for our going to Melcena— although we didn't know it at the time," Belgarath said. "There was an unmutilated copy of the Ashabine Oracles there. I had to read that in order to find out that our next step is the trip to Kell. I'm following a trail that was laid down for me thousands of years ago." '.
    Atesca and Brador entered. "You sent for us, your Majesty?" Atesca said with a crisp salute.
    "Yes," Zakath replied. He looked at the two of them speculatively. "Please listen carefully," he instructed, "and try not to argue with me." Oddly he said it not so much in the tone of imperial command, but rather as a man appealing to two old friends. "There's been a change of plans," he went on. "Certain information has come into my possession, and it's absolutely imperative that we not interfere with Belgarion and his friends. Their mission is vital to the security of Mallorea."
    Brador's eyes came alight with curiosity. "Shouldn't I perhaps be briefed on this matter, your Imperial Majesty?" he asked. "State security is my responsibility, after all."‘
    "Ah—no, Brador," Zakath said regretfully, "I'm afraid not. It might require too great an adjustment in your thinking. You're not ready for that. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure I am, either. At any rate, Belgarion and these others absolutely must go to Dalasia." He paused. "Oh, one other thing," he added. "I'll be going with them."
    Atesca stared incredulously at his Emperor. Then, with some effort, he got himself under control. "I'll notify the commander of the Imperial Guard, your Majesty," he said stiffly. "They'll be ready to leave within the hour."
    "Don't bother," Zakath told him. "They won't be going with us. I'll be going with Belgarion alone."
    "Alone?" Atesca exclaimed. "Your Majesty, that's unheard of."
    Zakath smiled wanly. "You see," he said to Garion. "What did I tell you?"
    "General," Belgarath said to Atesca, "Kal Zakath is simply following orders. I'm sure you can understand that. He was told not to bring any troops along. Troops wouldn't do him any good where we're going anyway."
    "Orders?" Atesca said in amazement. "Who has the authority to give his Majesty orders?"
    "It's a long story, Atesca," the old man told him, "and we're pressed for time."
    "Ah—your Imperial Majesty," Brador said diffidently, "if you're going to Dalasia, that means you'll have to cross the whole of Darshiva. Might I remind you that Darshiva is hostile territory at the moment? Is it wise to risk the imperial person under such circumstances? Might not an escort at