The Seeress of Kell

beginning. We could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble. About the only consolation I have is that Zandramas wasted a lot more effort than we did.
    "I'm still certain that it's going to be me."
    "Nonsense."
    "I just hope they let me hold my baby before I die," she said sadly.
    "You're not going to die, Ce'Nedra."
    She ignored him. "I want you to take care of yourself, Garion," she said firmly. "Be sure that you eat right, dress warmly in winter, and make sure that our son doesn't forget me."
    "Ce'Nedra, will you stop this?"
    "One last thing, Garion," she plowed on relentlessly. "After I’ve been gone for a while, I want you to marry again. I don't want you moping around the way Belgarath has for the last three thousand years."
    "Absolutely not. Besides, nothing's going to happen to you."
    "We'll see. Promise, Garion. You weren't meant to be alone, and you need somebody to take care of you."
    "Have you almost finished with this?" It was Poledra. She stepped out from behind the foremast in a businesslike way. "It's all very pretty and sweetly melancholy, I'm sure, but isn't it just a trifle overdramatic? Garion's right, Ce'Nedra. Nothing's going to happen to you, so why don't you fold up all this nobility and put it away in a closet someplace?"
    "I know what I know, Poledra," Ce'Nedra said stubbornly.
    "I hope you won't be too disappointed when you wake up the day after tomorrow and find that you're in perfect health."
    "Who's it going to be, then?"
    "Me," Poledra said simply. “I’ve known about it for over three thousand years now, so I’ve had time to get used to it. At least I have this day with the ones I love before I have to leave for good. Ce'Nedra, that wind is very chilly. Let's go below before you catch cold.”
    "She's just like your Aunt Pol, isn't she?" Ce'Nedra said over her shoulder as Poledra firmly led her toward the stair leading below decks.
    "Naturally," Garion called back.
    "It's started, I see," Silk said from not far away.
    "What's started?"
    "The gushy farewells. Just about everybody's convinced that he's the one who won't see the sun go down tomorrow. I'd imagine that they'll all come up here one by one to say good-bye to you. I thought I'd be first sort of to get it out of the way but Ce'Nedra beat me to it.”
    "You? Nothing could kill you, Silk. You're too lucky."
    “I’ve made my own luck, Garion. It's not that hard to tamper with dice." The little man's face grew reflective. "We’ve really had some good times, haven't we? I think they outweigh the bad ones, and that's about all a man can hope for."
    "You're as maudlin as Ce'Nedra and my grandmother were."
    "It does sort of seem that way, doesn't it? And that's very unbecoming. Don't be too sad about it, Garion. If I do happen to be the one, it should spare me the discomfort of making a very unpleasant decision.”
    "Oh? What decision is that?"
    "You know my views on marriage, don't you?"
    "Oh, yes. You’ve spoken on the subject many, many times."
    Silk sighed. "All that to the contrary, I think I'm going to have to make up my mind about Liselle."
    "I wondered how long that would take you."
    "You knew?" Silk looked surprised.
    "Everybody knew, Silk. She set out to get you, and she did exactly that."
    "That's depressing to get trapped finally when I'm in my dotage."
    "I'd hardly say you're that far gone."
    "I must be even to be considering something like this," Silk said moodily. "Liselle and I could continue to go on the way we have been, I suppose, but sneaking down hallways to her bedroom in the middle of the night seems a little disrespectful for some reason, and I'm too fond of her for that."
    "Fond?"
    "All right then," Silk snapped. "I'm in love with her. Does it make you feel better to have me come right out and say it?"
    "I just wanted to get it clear, that's all. Is this the first time you’ve admitted it even to yourself?"
    “I’ve been trying to avoid that. Do you suppose we could talk about something else?" He looked around. "I wish he'd go find another piece of air to fly in,” he said in a grouchy tone of voice.
    "Who?"
    "That blasted albatross. He's back again." Silk pointed. Garion, turned and saw the white seabird with its enormous wings on station once more just ahead of the bowsprit. The cloud bank to the west had grown more and more purple as the morning had progressed, and against that backdrop the snowy bird seemed almost to glow with an unearthly incandescence.
    "That's very strange," Garion said.
    “I