Guardians of the West

"They had a letter from Anheg, Grandfather." Garion told the old man. "That's how they got inside the Citadel."

"Do you have the letter anywhere?" Belgarath asked Kail.

"Yes, Ancient One. It's right here." Kail began to leaf through a stack of documents.

"That seems to be the best place to start," the old man said. "The entire Alorn alliance is hanging on this, so we'd better get it straightened out fast."

It was late evening by the time Polgara completed her examination of the lone surviving assassin. When she came into the royal apartment where the discussions had been continuing, her face was bleak. "I'm sorry, but there's absolutely nothing I can do with him," she reported. "The entire back of his skull has been crushed. He's only barely alive; if I try to wake him, he'll die immediately."

"I need some answers, Aunt Pol," Garion said. "How long do you think it's going to be until he wakes up?"

She shook her head. "I doubt that he ever will -and even if he does, it's unlikely that he's going to be able to say anything coherent. About all that's holding his brains together right now is his scalp."

He looked at her helplessly. "Couldn't you-"

"No, Garion. There's nothing left of his mind to work with."

Two days later, King Cho-Hag, Chief of the Clan-Chiefs of the Algar horsemen, arrived, accompanied by Queen Silar and Adara, Garion's tall, dark-haired cousin. "A very sad occasion," Cho-Hag said to Garion in his quiet voice as they clasped hands on the quay.

"It seems lately that about the only time we all get together is to attend funerals," Garion agreed. "Where's Hettar?"

"I think he's at Val Alorn," Cho-Hag replied. "He'll probably come here with Anheg."

"That's something we're going to have to talk about," Garion said.

Cho-Hag lifted one eyebrow.

"The people who killed Brand were Chereks," Garion explained quietly. "They had a letter from Anheg."

"Anheg could not have had anything to do with it," Cho-Hag declared. "He loved Brand like a brother. There had to be somebody else behind it."

"I'm sure you're right, but there's a great deal of suspicion here in Riva right now. There are some people who are even talking war."

Cho-Hag's face went grim.

"That's why we have to get to the truth in a hurry." Garion told him. "We've got to head that kind of thinking off before it gets completely out of hand."

The next day King Fulrach of Sendaria arrived in the harbor; with him on their stout, broad-beamed ship was the one-armed General Brendig, the ancient but still-vigorous Earl of Seline, and, surprisingly, Queen Layla herself, the lady whose fear of sea travel had become almost legendary. That same afternoon, Queen Porenn, still in deepest mourning for her husband, disembarked from the black-painted Drasnian vessel that had carried her from Boktor, along with her son, the boy-king Kheva and the bone-thin Margrave Khendon, the man known as Javelin.

"Oh, my dear Garion," Porenn said, embracing him at the foot of the gangway. "I cannot tell you how sorry I am."

"We've all lost one of our dearest friends," he replied. He turned to Kheva. "Your Majesty," he said with a formal bow.

"Your Majesty," Kheva replied, also bowing.

"We heard that there's some mystery surrounding the assassination," Porenn said. "Khendon here is very good at clearing up mysteries."

"Margrave," Garion greeted the Drasnian Chief of Intelligence.

"Your Majesty," Javelin responded. He turned and extended one hand to a young woman with honey-blond hair and soft brown eyes who was coming down the gangway. "You do remember my niece, don't you?"

"Margravine Liselle," Garion greeted her.

"Your Majesty." she replied with a formal curtsy. Although she was probably not even aware of it, the hint of a dimple in each of her cheeks gave her expression a slightly impish cast. "My uncle has pressed me into service as his secretary. He pretends failing eyesight, but I think perhaps it's just an excuse to avoid giving me a genuine assignment. Older relatives tend to be overprotective sometimes, don't you think?"

Garion smiled briefly. "Has anyone heard from Silk?" he asked.

"He's at Rheon," Javelin replied, "trying to gather information about the activities of the Bear-cult. We've sent messengers, but sometimes he can be hard to find. I expect he'll be along soon, though."

"Has Anheg arrived yet?" Queen Porenn asked.

Garion shook his head. "Cho-Hag and Fulrach are here, but there's no word from Anheg yet."

"We've heard that some people suspect him," the little blond queen said. "It simply cannot be true, Garion."

"I'm sure he'll be able to explain everything as soon as he arrives."

"Did any of the assassins survive?" Javelin asked.

"One," Garion told him, "but I'm afraid that he won't be much help to us. One of Brand's sons bashed in his head. It doesn't appear that he's ever going to wake up."

"Pity," Javelin murmured briefly, "but a man doesn't always have to be able to talk in order to provide information."

"I hope you're right," Garion said fervently.

The discussions at supper and later that evening were subdued. Though no one stated it openly, they were all reluctant to speak of the bleak possibility which faced them. To raise that question without Anheg's being present might have solidified the doubts and suspicions and given the entire meeting a tone none of them were willing to assume.

"When is Brand's funeral to be held?" Porenn asked quietly.

"As soon as Anheg arrives, I guess," Garion replied.

"Have you made any decisions concerning his office?" Fulrach asked.

"I don't quite follow you."

"The position of Warder originated a long time ago in order to fill the vacuum that existed after the Nyissans murdered King Gorek and his family. Now that you occupy the throne, do you really need a Warder?"

"To be honest with you, I hadn't really thought about it. Brand's always been here. He seemed as permanent as the stones of the Citadel itself."

"Who's been doing his work since he was killed, your Majesty?" the silvery haired old Earl of Seline asked.

"His second son, Kail."

"You have many other responsibilities, Belgarion," the Earl pointed out. "You really do need someone here to manage the day-to-day details -at least until the present crisis has passed. I don't think, however, that any final decision about the post of Warder needs to be made just now. I'm sure that if you asked him, Kail would continue to perform his father's duties without a formal appointment."