The Seeress of Kell

building. They usually have walls, moats, and drawbridges."
    "I know what a castle is, Beldin."
    “Why did you ask then? Anyway, the one ahead looks almost as if it had been transplanted directly from Arendia.”
    "Do you suppose you could clarify this for us, Cyradis?" Belgarath asked the Seeress.
    "It is really no mystery, Ancient Belgarath," she replied. "Some two thousand years ago, a group of adventurers from the west were shipwrecked on the coast of this island. Seeing that there was no way to make their ship whole again, they settled here and took wives from among the local populace. They have retained the customs and manners and even the speech of their homeland."
    "Lots of thees and thous?" Silk asked her.
    She nodded.
    "And castles? "
    She nodded again.
    "And the men all wear armor? The same as Garion and Zakath are wearing? "
    "It is even as thou hast said, Prince Kheldar."
    He groaned.
    "What's the problem, Kheldar?" Zakath asked him.
    “We've traveled thousands of leagues only to find Mimbrates again."
    “The reports I received from the battlefield at Thull Mardu all said that they're very brave. That might explain the reputation of this island."
    "Oh, it does indeed, Zakath," the little man told him. "Mimbrates are the bravest people in the world probably because they don't have brains enough to be afraid of anything. Garion's friend Mandorallen is totally convinced that he's invincible."
    "He is," Ce'Nedra said in automatic defense of her knight. "I saw him kill a lion once with his bare hands."
    "I’ve heard of his reputation," Zakath said. "I thought it was exaggerated."
    "Not by very much," Garion said. "I heard him suggest to Barak and Hettar once that the three of them attack an entire Tolnedran legion."
    "Perhaps he was joking."
    "Mimbrate knights don't know how to joke," Silk told him.
    “I will not sit here and listen to you people insult my knight,” Ce'Nedra said hotly.
    "We're not insulting him, Ce'Nedra," Silk told her. "We're describing him. He's so noble he makes my hair hurt."
    "Nobility is an alien concept to a Drasnian, I suppose," she noted.
    "Not alien, Ce'Nedra. Incomprehensible."
    "Perhaps in two thousand years they've changed," Durnik said hopefully.
    "I wouldn't count on it," Beldin grunted. "In my experience, people who live in isolation tend to petrify."
    "I needs must warn ye all of one thing, however," Cyradis said. "The people of this island are a peculiar mixture. In many ways they are even as you have described them, but their heritage is also Dal, and they are conversant with the arts of our people.”
    "Oh, fine," Silk said sardonically, "Mimbrates who use sorcery. That's assuming they can figure out which way to point it."
    "Cyradis," Garion said, "is this why Zakath and I are wearing armor?"
    She nodded.
    “Why didn't you just say so?”
    "It was necessary for you to find that out for yourselves."
    "Well, let's go have a look," Belgarath said. "We've dealt with Mimbrates before, and we've usually managed to stay out of trouble."
    They rode on through the forest in golden afternoon sunshine and, when they reached the edge of the trees, they saw the structure Beldin had reported. It stood atop a high promontory, and it had the usual battlements and fortifications.
    "Formidabie," Zakath murmured.
    “There's no real point in lurking here in the trees,” Belgarath told them. "We can't get across all that open ground without being seen. Garion, you and Zakath take the lead. Men in armor are usually greeted with some courtesy."
    "Are we just going to ride up to the castle?" Silk asked.
    "We might as well," Belgarath said. "If they still think like Mimbrates, they'll almost be obliged to offer hospitality for the night, and we need a certain amount of information anyway.”
    They rode out onto an open meadow and proceeded at a walk toward the grim-looking castle. "You'd better let me do most of the talking when we get there," Garion said to Zakath. "I sort of know the dialect.”
    "Good idea," Zakath agreed. "I'd probably choke on all the these and thous."
    From inside the castle a horn blew a brazen note, announcing that they had been seen, and a few minutes later a dozen gleaming knights rode out across the drawbridge at a rolling trot. Garion moved Chretienne slightly to the front.
    "Prithee, abate thy pace, Sir Knight," the man who appeared to be the leader of the strangers said. "I am Sir Astellig, baron of this place. May I ask of thee thy name and what it is