Chapter 3
By GeminiGirlz #2
Disclaimer: they're not mine.
Prince Kheldar of Drasnia, known as Silk by his comrades, and various names by business associates, had quite a reputation. He was a spy, a thief, a murderer, a gambler, a cheater, a drinker, and, as a result of his cunning slyness, an unbelievably prosperous businessman. His long, pointy nose twitched at the mention of money, his rat-like face constantly betraying his thoughts. An experienced liar, he somehow manages to cheat the other outrageously in any business deal. Never in one place too long, he had branches all over Aloria and manages to show up with many unexpected people in the most unforeseen places. Then again, perhaps that was the charm that captured the heart of the lovely blond lady Margravine Liselle, niece to Javelin, who was chief of the Drasnian Intelligence. And, as fate would have it, Silk also fell head over heels for the charming lady, who talked him into marriage. It may have seemed like an appealing idea at first, but the rat-faced prince was having second thoughts now. Did he really want to give up a life of adventure, of constant roaming, to – and the very idea made him shudder – settle down and stay in Drasnia?
Pacing around in his room, the prince was desperately thinking of an escape plan on the wedding day, and how to conceal his plan from his fiancée, who was also equally, if not more, cunning as him.
"She wants me to lead a safer life! As if! I'm a spy. Spies don't lead safe lives. If I wanted a safe life I wouldn't have gone to the academy and trained to be a spy. And settling down; the very thought of it makes me shudder. Imagine, doing business without traveling. Even living life without traveling. No, no," he decided, "That just isn't my lifestyle. As much as I love her, I have to talk her out of this vision she has for our future. Staying in one place!" he cursed, "Outrageous. Completely unacceptable. If she were part Algarian, perhaps she would at least abandon the idea of settling down." The tiny man shuddered again, "Completely monstrous!" A knock interrupted his insane ramblings.
"Your Highness," a servant said, "Margravine Liselle requests and audience with you."
Silk stopped, and looked into a mirror, adjusting himself so that none of his displeasure showed. Then he nodded to the servant, indication for him to let Velvet in.
"Silk!" Velvet exclaimed enthusiastically, "I just had the most brilliant idea for out flower arrangements."
Silk groaned inwardly, but perked up as he realized that her gestures were not to help her express her thoughts; they were telling him an entirely different story. They made some small talk over the flower arrangements, their true conversation artfully hidden as their gestures looked as if they were simply helping express their idea to the other to an outsider, or even one familiar with the secret language. Only skilled eyes could catch their concealed words. As Velvet attempted to "attack" him, seemingly outraged that he simply would not accept the idea of the alter decorated with violets and Adara's roses, she handed him a small piece of parchment, neatly rolled up. His motion to block her attach was really an excuse to slip the parchment into his pocket.
Such was the life of Prince Kheldar; filled with deceit and hidden meanings behind every word spoken. When Liselle stormed out as Silk adamantly refused to have daisies and daffodils decorating the chairs, he checked the normal places for a spy to hide, then unfolded the parchment.
Dearest Silk and Velvet, he read
We are going to depart today for Boktor, and we are all looking forward to you wedding. However, some alarming news has reached me; it appears as if Torak was never really mad – he was possessed by the insane portion of the Sprit of Dark, who has somehow found its way to our time and has possessed Zedar. If I understand this correctly, we have a Torak-like Zedar loose and he even captured Polgara! We have her back, just like normal now. We have found out too much to write; I will explain in detail when I arrive. Don't bother to reply; nobody will be able to find us, as we plan to depart Riva before this letter will reach you.
Yours truly,
Belgarion
Try as he might, Silk simply could not hide his glee. Surely, with the new chaos abroad, his beloved Liselle would not deny him the chance to help his heroic friends deal with this. Knowing her, she would probably want to come too. Well, then, that would delay the wedding for quite a bit.
However, as Silk reread the letter, he found that the situation was much more important than the stalling of his wedding; if two possibilities were again abroad, and the Dark chooses to tear them apart, it could mean that the prophecies would begin all over again; something that would be too awful to think about. All those meetings over the centuries, having to be done over again! Silk shuddered. No, he decided, it would be better for this to be over quickly; even if it means having my wedding when it should be, it's better than taking the chance of another division.
Prince Hettar of Algaria was helping his crippled father to his horse when a messenger with a letter from Riva came. Cho-Hag and his adopted son eagerly opened the letter. It was similar to the one addressed to Silk, asking them to set out as soon as possible and to meet him in Boktor at Silk's wedding. Alarmed by the shocking news, they alerted Adara and immediately began to prepare for their journey south. (a/n: I don't have a map with me so I'm guessing that Drasnia is South of Algaria. Knowing my WONDERFUL sense of direction, I'm probably way off. Sorry about that, but if anyone knows a website with a map, I would LOVE to know it. No need to tell me whether or not Drasnia really is south of Algaria; my geography is just horrendous, so this is an apology for all the wrong directions I'm going to give in this story).
Garion couldn't help but smile as he climbed onto his horse. Royalty was not nearly as luxurious as it sounded, and he much preferred the back of a horse, and Aunt Pol's famous home cooked meals. Durnik and Polgara rode the horses that led the carriage Ce'Nedra was resting in, still frail from her recent birth. Poledra ran along them in her natural form. Garion and Belgarath followed them in strong horses kin to Eriond's Horse. Being in no hurry, they rode the horses at a brisk walk, which allowed Garion to think quite a bit about the current situation. He rode up to Belgarath.
"Grandfather," he said, "Since we're assuming that Zedar is now possessed by the Dark, and we know that he was in the castle, is it really safe to leave him there? I mean, nobody in the castle has any means of defense against him. I don't really welcome the idea of coming home and finding that he is the new King of Riva, or that there has been some mysterious incidents around here."
Belgarath sighed, a sigh that so clearly showed his ages of wisdom, and his ancient face broke into a gentle smile, "Garion, I can understand your concern. Know, however, that your Aunt and I have been dealing with the Dark and Zedar for centuries, and if I know them, they should be somewhere about half a league behind us."
This alarmed Garion greatly, "If you know that, why not catch Zedar? Is it safe to have Torak's disciple acting like him so close to us? So close to the women?"
Belgarath stopped his horse and looked Garion in the eye, "If you think I'd ever risk the chance of bringing about any harm to anyone, I'm surprised. They will not attack, and I'm bringing us to the Vale first. The combined minds of all of us and the twins have a better chance against it. Besides, the only vulnerable one in our group, the only one without knowledge of the Will and the Word, is Ce'Nedra, and your Aunt and I have already brought about a shield to protect her."
They resumed the pace their horses were walking at, and Garion relaxed. He thought instead of how Silk's wedding would seem so much like a reunion; for Hettar was not the only one he wrote a letter to; letters were also sent to Zakath, Urgit, Barak and Anheg, and of course Silk himself.
Zakath, the King of Mallorea, had just finished a conference with the ambassador from Gar Og Nadrak when Garion's messenger came in. Eager to hear from his friend, Zakath called for his wife, Cyradis, but began reading the letter first.
"Heavens, no," he murmured, "The possibility of another division? I certainly hope my Cyradis won't become a seeress again. Seeing what a seeress sees is a burden that should not be placed upon a woman as fragile as she."
As luck (or perhaps fate) would have it, it was at that moment that Cyradis walked in, her eyes blinded by a thin strip of black cloth.