Belgarath gasped in pain.
Riva, he noticed, was crouched by his side, holding his shoulders.
It was nearing night fall since his amulet had begun to burn with fire against his skin.
And it was four days since he had reached Riva to realize both his daughters were
missing. The king Riva, who had been worrying over him for the past day or so, was
asking him something, for Belgarath saw his lips moving, but he heard nothing.
The fire in the amulet was still burning. Everything was mute when he heard off in a
distance, the crying of a woman. And the image of Poledra flashed into his mind.
She sat on the ground, her light brown gown piled around her, surrounding her. Her
beautiful face was hidden behind her hands and her shoulders shook as she wept, her
honey-golden hair pulled back in a simple braid. "No..." he heard her cry, "Polgara...
don't do this.... Beldaran is your sister... Torak is not your God-- he is your enemy!"
The image of Poledra vanished, and her words fell on Belgarath like the weight of Hell.
He realized his amulet was now cool against his skin, and Riva was frowning at him as
servants dashed out of the room to fetch something Riva had told them to get.
"Belgarath?" Riva called.
Belgarath pulled his eyes away from his amulet and looked at his beloved daughter's
husband, "What is it?" he asked.
"Polgara has turned to the dark side?" Riva tried to stay calm, but Belgarath saw the fear
hidden deep in his eyes.
"What?" Belgarath asked in a unhearable whisper.
"Y-you said it-- just now."
"What did I say?"
Riva cleared his throat, "You said: Polgara's now the Bride... Beldaran is the Foe..."
Belgarath stood up, followed by Riva, "Forget what I said." He demanded.
Riva argued, "How could I forget what you just said?! My wife and unborn child are in
danger, and you're telling me to forget about it?!" The vein in his forehead popped out in
his rising anger.
"Calm down! Your wife happens to be my daughter-- or did you forget that, King of
Riva?"
Riva shivered at the sound of anger in the sorcerer's voice, but he held his ground.
Deep down in his heart, Riva wanted to cry. Beldaran... she had called for him, and for
the first time in his life, he felt helpless to help. And now, Beldaran's sister was going to
destroy her--what was Polgara thinking? Did she have sense to what she was doing or
whom she was doing it to? If his unborn child died, Riva knew he would destroy Polgara
himself-- and that was without the Orb.
But Polgara was a sorceress... he... he couldn't fight her... he was simply... helpless...
Riva opened his mouth to argue again, scream at the man who had created his wife, and
his anger burned his throat, turned his face all red, and made him block everything out
except for his hatred for the sorceress Polgara at that very moment.
Belgarath felt all of Riva's feelings, saw it on his face, and felt sadness.
He was helpless too...
Before Riva could say anything, the door of the room slammed open, and Beldin hobbled
in, "Belgarath," he said, "Get ready-- i know where the girls are."
Riva, he noticed, was crouched by his side, holding his shoulders.
It was nearing night fall since his amulet had begun to burn with fire against his skin.
And it was four days since he had reached Riva to realize both his daughters were
missing. The king Riva, who had been worrying over him for the past day or so, was
asking him something, for Belgarath saw his lips moving, but he heard nothing.
The fire in the amulet was still burning. Everything was mute when he heard off in a
distance, the crying of a woman. And the image of Poledra flashed into his mind.
She sat on the ground, her light brown gown piled around her, surrounding her. Her
beautiful face was hidden behind her hands and her shoulders shook as she wept, her
honey-golden hair pulled back in a simple braid. "No..." he heard her cry, "Polgara...
don't do this.... Beldaran is your sister... Torak is not your God-- he is your enemy!"
The image of Poledra vanished, and her words fell on Belgarath like the weight of Hell.
He realized his amulet was now cool against his skin, and Riva was frowning at him as
servants dashed out of the room to fetch something Riva had told them to get.
"Belgarath?" Riva called.
Belgarath pulled his eyes away from his amulet and looked at his beloved daughter's
husband, "What is it?" he asked.
"Polgara has turned to the dark side?" Riva tried to stay calm, but Belgarath saw the fear
hidden deep in his eyes.
"What?" Belgarath asked in a unhearable whisper.
"Y-you said it-- just now."
"What did I say?"
Riva cleared his throat, "You said: Polgara's now the Bride... Beldaran is the Foe..."
Belgarath stood up, followed by Riva, "Forget what I said." He demanded.
Riva argued, "How could I forget what you just said?! My wife and unborn child are in
danger, and you're telling me to forget about it?!" The vein in his forehead popped out in
his rising anger.
"Calm down! Your wife happens to be my daughter-- or did you forget that, King of
Riva?"
Riva shivered at the sound of anger in the sorcerer's voice, but he held his ground.
Deep down in his heart, Riva wanted to cry. Beldaran... she had called for him, and for
the first time in his life, he felt helpless to help. And now, Beldaran's sister was going to
destroy her--what was Polgara thinking? Did she have sense to what she was doing or
whom she was doing it to? If his unborn child died, Riva knew he would destroy Polgara
himself-- and that was without the Orb.
But Polgara was a sorceress... he... he couldn't fight her... he was simply... helpless...
Riva opened his mouth to argue again, scream at the man who had created his wife, and
his anger burned his throat, turned his face all red, and made him block everything out
except for his hatred for the sorceress Polgara at that very moment.
Belgarath felt all of Riva's feelings, saw it on his face, and felt sadness.
He was helpless too...
Before Riva could say anything, the door of the room slammed open, and Beldin hobbled
in, "Belgarath," he said, "Get ready-- i know where the girls are."
