The Seeress of Kell

her get away!"
    They switched their attack to the batlike wings, desperately striving to cripple the dragon's final option, but her armored skin defeated their purpose. Ponderously she rose into the air, and still shrieking, belching flame, and streaming blood from her many wounds, she flew off toward the east.
    Belgarath had resumed his own form and he strode up to them, his face livid with rage. "Are you two insane?" he almost screamed at them. "I told you to be careful!"
    "Things got a little out of hand there, Belgarath," Zakath panted. “We didn't have much choice in the matter. “He looked at the Rivan King. "You saved my life again, Garion," he said. "You're starting to make a habit of that."
    "It sort of seemed like the thing to do," Garion replied, sinking exhausted to the ground. "We're still going to have to chase her down, though. If we don't, she'll only come back."
    "One does not think so," the she-wolf said. "One has had much experience with wounded beasts. You poked sticks into her, put out her eye, and cut her face and forepaw with fire. She will return to her den and remain there until she heals or dies.”
    Garion quickly translated for Zakath.
    "It presents a problem, though," the emperor of Mallorea said dubiously. "How are we going to persuade the king that we've driven her off for good? If we'd have killed her, we'd have no further obligation, but the king with Naradas prompting him might very well insist that we stay here until he's sure she's not coming back."
    Belgarath was frowning. "I think Cyradis was right," he said. "The dragon wasn't behaving exactly right. Each time Garion hit her with that burning sword, she flinched momentarily."
    "Wouldn't you have?" Zakath asked him.
    "This is a little different. The dragon herself wouldn't even feel fire. She was being directed by something. something that the Orb can injure. I'll talk it over with Beldin when we get back. As soon as you two get your breath, we'll round up the horses. I want to get back to Dal Perivor and have a look at that map."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
    It was nearly dawn by the time they returned to the palace, and to their surprise, they found nearly everyone awake. A ripple of gasps ran through the throne room as Garion and Zakath entered. Garion's armor was scorched and red with the dragon's blood; Zakath's surcoat was charred, and great fang marks scarred one side of his breastplate. The condition of their armor gave mute testimony to the seriousness of the encounter.
    "My glorious champions!" the king exulted as they entered me throne room. It appeared to Garion at first that the king was leaping to a conclusion that because they had returned alive, they had succeeded in killing the dragon. "In all the years that this foul beast hath been ravaging this realm," the king said, however, "this is the first time anyone hath forced it to flee." Then, noting Belgarath's puzzled look, he elaborated. "Not two hours ago, we observed the dragon flying over the city, shrieking in pain and fright.”
    "Which way did it go, your Majesty?" Garion asked.
    "It was last seen flying out to sea, Sir Knight, and, as all men know, its lair lies somewhere to the west. The chastisement thou and thy valiant companion administered hath driven it from the realm. Doubtless it will seek shelter in its lair and lick its wounds there. Now, an it please ye, our ears hunger for an account of what transpired."
    "Let me," Belgarath muttered. He stepped forward. "Thy two champions, your Majesty, are modest men, as befits their nobility. They would, I do fear me, be reticent in their description of their exploit out of a desire not to appear boastful. Better, perhaps, that I describe the encounter for them so that your Majesty and the members of thy court receive a truer version of what actually occurred."
    "Well said, Master Garath," the king replied. "True humility is the crown of any man of noble birth, but it doth, as thou sayest, ofttimes obscure the truth of an encounter such as this knight hath witnessed. Say on, I pray thee."
    "Where to begin?" Belgarath mused. "Ah, well. As your Majesty knoweth, Master Erezel's timely warning that the dragon was ravaging the village of Dal Esta came not a moment too soon. Directly upon our departure from this very hall, we took to horse and rode posthaste to the aforementioned village. Great fires burned there, graphic evidence of the dragon's fiery breath, and cattle and many of the inhabitants had already been slain