The Seeress of Kell

just wish I knew what he was up to," Silk said. "I'm going below. I don't want to look at him anymore." He took Garion is hand in his. "We’ve had fun," he said gruffly. "Take care of yourself.”
    "You don't have to leave."
    "I have to make room for all the others waiting in line to see you, your Majesty." Silk grinned. "I think you're in for a depressing day. I 'm going to go find out if Beldin's found an ale barrel yet." With a jaunty wave, the little man turned and went to the stairway leading below.
    Silk's prediction proved to be all too accurate. One by one, Garion's friends came up on deck to take leave of him, each firmly convinced that he would be the one to die. All in all, it was a very gloomy day.
    It was almost twilight when the last of the self-composed epitaphs had been completed. Garion leaned on the rail, looking back at the phosphorescent wake glowing behind their ship.
    "Bad day, I take it?" It was Silk again.
    "Dreadful. Did Beldin find any ale?"
    "I don't recommend any of that for you. You'll need your wits about you tomorrow. I just came up to make sure that all the gloom your friends have been piling on you doesn't make you start thinking about drowning yourself." Silk frowned. "What's that?" he asked.
    "What's what?"
    "That booming noise." He looked toward the bow. "There it is," he said tensely.
    The purple sky had turned almost black with the onset of evening, a black pierced here and there with patches of angry red, the light of the setting sun glowing through the clouds. There was a rusty-colored blur low on the horizon, a blur that seemed to be wearing a white necklace of frothy surf.
    Captain Kresca came forward with the rolling walk of a man who spends little time ashore. "That's it, good masters," he told them. "That's the reef."
    Garion stared out at the Place Which Is No More, his thoughts and emotions stumbling over each other.
    And then the albatross gave a strange cry, a cry that seemed almost triumphant. The great pearly-white bird dipped its pinions once, then continued toward Korim on seemingly motionless wings.

CHAPTER NINETEEN
    Oskatat the Seneschal moved with a certain deliberate speed through the corridors of the Drojim Palace toward the throne room of Urgit, high King of Cthol Murgos. Oskatat's scarred face was bleak, and his mind was troubled. He stopped before the closely guarded door to the throne room. "I will speak with his Majesty," he declared.
    The guards hastily opened the door for him. Although by mutual agreement between himself and King Urgit, Oskatat still bore only the title of Seneschal, the guards, like everyone else in the palace, recognized the fact that he was second only to the king himself in authority in Cthol Murgos.
    He found his rat-faced monarch in light conversation with Queen Praia and Queen Mother Tamazin, Oskatat's own wife. "Ah, there you are, Oskatat," Urgit said. "Now my little family is complete. We've been discussing some extensive remodeling of the Drojim Palace. All these jewels and the tons of gold on the ceilings are in terribly bad taste, wouldn't you say? Besides, I need the money I'll be able to get for all that trash for the war effort."
    "Something important has come up, Urgit," Oskatat told his king. By royal command, Oskatat always called his king by his first name in private conversations.
    "That's depressing," Urgit said, sprawling deeper into the cushions on his throne. Taur Urgas, Urgit's supposed father, had scornfully rejected such comforts as cushions, preferring to set an example of Murgo hardihood by sitting for hours on cold stone. About all that brainless gesture had gained the mad king had been a fistula, which had added quite noticeably in the later years of his life to his irritability.
    "Sit up straight, Urgit," Lady Tamazin, the king's mother, said absently.
    "Yes, mother," Urgit replied, straightening slightly on his throne. "Go ahead, Oskatat," he said, "but please drop it on me gently. Lately I’ve noticed that 'important things' usually turn out to be disasters."
    “I’ve been in contact with Jaharb, Chief Elder of the Dagashi," Oskatat reported. "At my request, he's been trying to pinpoint the location of Agachak the Hierarch. We've finally found him or at least found the port he sailed from when he left Cthol Murgos."
    "Astonishing," Urgit said with a broad grin. "For once you've actually brought me some good news. So Agachak has left Cthol Murgos. We can hope that it's his intention 'to sail off the