The Seeress of Kell

mean, do you always live in perpetual apprehension, waiting for these conversations?"
    "It's not uncommon. You're not married yet, though."
    "I'm closer to it than I ever thought I'd be."
    "Are you sorry?"
    "No, not really. Liselle and I are suited for each other. We have a great deal in common. I just wish she wouldn't keep things hanging over my head is all." Silk looked sourly around the amphitheater. "Does he have to glow like that?" he asked, pointing at Eriond.
    "He probably doesn't even know he's doing it. He's new at this. He'll get better at it as he goes along.”
    "Do you realize that we're sitting around criticizing a God?"
    “He was a friend first, Silk. Friends can criticize us without giving offense."
    "My, aren't we philosophical this morning? My heart almost stopped when he touched Belgarath and Poledra with the Orb, though.”
    "Mine, too," Garion admitted, "but it appears he knew what he was doing." He sighed.
    "What's the problem?"
    "It's all over now. I think I'm going to miss it at least I will just as soon as I get caught up on my sleep."
    "It has been a little hectic for the past few days, hasn't it? I suppose that if we put our heads together, we can come up with something exciting to do."
    "I know what I'm going to be doing," Garion told him.
    "Oh? What's that?"
    "I'm going to be very busy being a father."
    "Your son won't stay young forever, Garion."
    "Geran isn't going to be an only child. My friend up here in my head warned me to expect large numbers of daughters."
    "Good. It might help to settle you down a bit. I don't want to seem critical, Garion, but sometimes you're awfully flighty. Hardly a year goes by when you're not running off to some corner of the world with that burning sword in your hand.”
    "Are you trying to be funny?"
    "Me?" Silk leaned back comfortably. "You're not going to have all that many daughters, are you? What I'm getting at is that women are only of childbearing age for just so long."
    "Silk," Garion said pointedly, "do you remember Xbell, that Dryad we met down near the River of the Woods in southern Tolnedra?"
    "The one who was so fond of men all men?"
    "That's the one. Would you say that she's still of childbearing age?"
    "Oh, my yes."
    "Xbell is over three hundred years old. Ce'Nedra's a Dryad, too, you know."
    "Well, maybe you'll get too old to " Silk broke off and looked at Belgarath. "Oh, dear," he said. "You have got a bit of a problem, haven't you?"
    It was almost noon when they boarded the Seabird. Barak had agreed, although somewhat reluctantly, to follow Captain Kresca to Perivor. After the two men had met and inspected each other's ships, however, things went more smoothly. Kresca had been lavish in his praise of Seabird, and that was always a way to get on the good side of Barak.
    As they weighed anchor, Garion leaned on the starboard rail gazing at the strange-looking pyramid sticking out of the sea with a pillar of greasy smoke rising from the amphitheater on its north side.
    "I'd have given a great deal to have been there," Hettar said quietly, leaning his elbows on the rail beside Garion. “How was it?"
    "Noisy," Garion told him.
    "Why did Belgarath insist on burning that dragon?"
    "He felt sorry for her."
    "Belgarath's funny sometimes."
    "He is indeed, my friend. How are Adara and the children?"
    "Fine. She's with child again, you know."
    "Again? Hettar, you two are almost as bad as Relg and Taiba."
    "Not quite," Hettar said modestly. "They're still a few ahead of us." He frowned critically, his hawk like face outlined against the sun. "I think somebody's cheating, though. Taiba keeps having babies in twos and threes. That makes it very hard for Adara to keep up.”
    "I wouldn't want to point any fingers, but I'd suspect that Mara's been interfering there. It's going to take awhile to repopulate Maragor." He looked over to where Unrak stood in the bow with his shadow, Nathel, just behind him.
    "What's that all about?" he asked.
    “I’m not sure," Hettar said. "Nathel's a pathetic sort of boy, and I think Unrak feels sorry for him. I gather there hasn't been too much kindness in Nathel's life, so he'll even accept pity. He's been following Unrak around like a puppy ever since we picked him up." The tall Algar looked at Garion. "You look tired," he said. "You should get some sleep."
    "I'm exhausted," Garion admitted, "but I don't want to get my days and nights turned around. Let's go talk with Barak. He seemed just a bit surly when he came