The Seeress of Kell

Belgarath," he hissed.
    "No, probably not," Belgarath admitted with aplomb, "but then, neither have you, Naradas, and I imagine Zandramas- you’ve heard the name before, I trust will be a bit cross with you when she finds out how miserably you've failed here. Maybe, if you start running right now, you can get away from her for a while, at least."
    "This isn't the end of this, Belgarath."
    "Never thought it was, old boy." Belgarath reached out and insultingly patted Naradas on the cheek. "Run along now, Grolim," he advised, "while you still have your health." He paused. "Unless, of course, you'd like to challenge me. Considering your limited talents, I don't advise it, but that's entirely up to you."
    After one startled look at the Eternal Man, Naradas fled.
    "I enjoy doing that to his kind," Belgarath gloated.
    "You are a dreadful old man, aren't you?" Zakath said.
    "Never pretended not to be, Zakath." Belgarath grinned. "Let's go talk with Sadi. Naradas is starting to become an inconvenience. I think it's high time he left us."
    "You'll do anything, won't you?" Zakath asked as they continued down the corridor.
    "To get the job done? Of course.”
    "And when I interfered with you back in Rak Hagga, you could have blown me into nothingness, couldn't you?"
    "Probably, yes."
    "But you didn't. Why not?"
    "Because I thought I might need you, and I saw more in you than others did."
    "More than Emperor of half the world?"
    "That's trash, Zakath," Belgarath said scornfully. "Your friend here is Overlord of the West, and he still has trouble getting his boots on the right feet."
    "I do not!" Garion objected vehemently.
    "That's probably because you’ve got Ce'Nedra to help you figure it out. That's what you really need, Zakath a wife, someone to keep you looking reasonably presentable."
    "I'm afraid that's quite out of the question, Belgarath." Zakath sighed.
    "We'll see," the Eternal Man said.
    The greetings they received in their quarters in the royal palace at Dal Perivor were not cordial.
    "You old fool!" Polgara began, speaking to her father. Things deteriorated quite rapidly from there.
    "You idiot!" Ce'Nedra shrieked at Garion.
    "Please, Ce'Nedra," Polgara said patiently, "let me finish first."
    "Oh, of course, Lady Polgara," the Rivan Queen agreed politely. "Sorry. You have many more years of aggravation than I do. Besides, I can get this one alone in bed and give him a piece of my mind."
    "And you wanted me to get married?" Zakath asked Belgarath.
    "It has its drawbacks," Belgarath replied calmly. He looked around. "The walls are still standing, I see, and there doesn't seem to be any evidence of explosions. Maybe, eventually, you'll grow up after all, Pol."
    "Another note?" she half shrieked. "A miserable note?"
    "We were pressed for time,"
    "The three of you went up against the dragon alone?"
    "More or less yes. The she-wolf was with us, however."
    "An animal! That's your idea of protection?"
    "She was very helpful."
    At that point, Polgara began to swear in several different languages.
    "Why, Pol," he objected mildly, "you don't even know what those words mean at least I hope you don't."
    "Don't underestimate me, old man. This isn't over yet. All right, Ce'Nedra, it's your turn."
    "I think I'd prefer to conduct my discussions with his Majesty in private where I can be much more direct," the tiny queen said in an icy tone.
    Garion winced.
    Then, surprisingly, Cyradis spoke. "It was discourteous of thee, Emperor of Mallorea, to hurl thyself into mortal danger without first consulting me." Belgarath, it appeared, had been characteristically obscure in his discussion with her before they had gone forth to face the dragon, conveniently forgetting to mention what they proposed to do.
    "I beg thy forgiveness, Holy Seeress," Zakath apologized, lapsing, perhaps unconsciously, into archaic language. "The urgency of the matter was such that there was no time for consultation."
    "Nicely spoken," Velvet murmured. "We'll make a gentleman out of him yet."
    Zakath raised his visor and grinned at her a surprisingly boyish grin.
    "As it may be, Kal Zakath," Cyradis continued sternly, "know that I am wroth with thee for thy hasty and unthinking rashness."
    "I am covered with confusion, Holy Seeress, that I have offended thee, and I hope that thou canst find it in thy heart to forgive mine error."
    "Oh," Velvet sighed, "he'll be just fine. Kheldar, were you taking notes?"
    "Me?" Silk sounded surprised.
    "Yes. You."
    There were far