05.09.2005: Amswers to reviews removed. See chapter 3 for reason.
DISCLAIMER: The Belgariad, Malloreon, Elenium and Tamuli are owned by David and Leigh Eddings and their respective publishers. I do not own any part of it, and do not intend to make money off their creation.
Current Music: James Darren – "This One's From The Heart" (I had the sudden desire to listen to lounge music, and the Man is the very best! Vic Fontaine rules!)
CHAPTER 21
After Dorgatan had rejoined the travelling group of Church Knights, Styrics and sorcerers, nothing significant had happened for nearly three weeks. By now they had already passed Venne and were on their way to Paler.
During the last few days, Prince Sparhawk had become increasingly quiet; when somebody tried to talk to him, he either did not answer, or snapped that he was thinking about something and did not appreciate to be disturbed.
Finally, Aphrael could not stand his attitude anymore; she had been riding in front of him on Tieran today, and now turned around to face him.
"What is wrong, Sparhawk?", she demanded to know. "And don't tell me that you don't want to be disturbed – obviously you can't find the answer to your problem alone. Why don't you tell me what you are thinking about? Maybe I know the answer you are looking for."
Sparhawk bit back a sharp remark that waited to escape his lips and replied instead: "Maybe you are right, I should have asked you. I am sorry. I have been thinking about the confrontation with Zoltach. What if the situation calls for Anakha? I have given up the powers Bhelliom bestowed on me, and Bhelliom itself is gone. How can I confront a God now, if that is what I have to do?"
He had expected all kinds of reactions from the Child Goddess, but the one she chose startled him: She was chuckling softly.
"Oh Sparhawk... That is all you are worried about? That is why you wouldn't talk to anybody for days?"
"I thought it was enough of a reason to worry," he answered testily.
Aphrael laughed again.
"Good old Sparhawk... worried about things that don't matter. You are Anakha, and there is no way you ever won't be Anakha anymore. You were born because Bhelliom wanted it, and you stay his creation until you are no more. Yes, you are right, Bhelliom is not here anymore – but the link between you and the World Maker still exists. You refused to keep the power it gave you, but nobody said you could never possess it again. Call upon Bhelliom with your mind, explain the situation to it, and ask whether it could bestow the power on you once more, as its daughter, the world, faces yet another peril. I am sure it will help you."
Sparhawk stared at her incredulously. "That is all I have to do?"
Aphrael nodded, but then shook her head. "It might take you a while to convince Bhelliom to restore your power – it might not understand the situation right away, and claim that its power is not needed to resolve the situation. But I am sure that you can convince it in the end."
The father of her newest incarnation sighed.
"I should have known – nothing is ever easy where you and the Blue Rose are concerned. I will wait for now, and think up some good reasons why Bhelliom should return the power to me, and I shall talk to it when I feel I have enough arguments to convince it."
Meanwhile, Zoltach had not been idle, although he had not sought open confrontation for a few weeks. In fact, the Elder God and his priest Ctuchik had been working on a special surprise for their enemies.
After long series of incantations and rituals, they had managed to break the Trollish spell that needed to be broken for their newest scheme to work. The screams that had filled Ctuchik's abandoned lighthouse for the better part of two weeks had finally died down, as the Grolim and his God administered different, healing spells to the figure they were working on.
It was done. Ctuchik, who had been severely punished by his God – the punishment had consisted of a full week of neverending agony – sincerely hoped that the person they had saved from the wrath of the Troll Gods would be able to tip the scales in their favor. They had to stop Anakha, the two Younger Gods and the sorcerers from getting here, come what may!
When he had heard of the man's accomplishments – he had managed to nearly plunge the whole world into chaos, just to get what he secretly desired for over 300 years – he had been rather impressed. Of course, he had done much better back when he had been the disciple of Torak, but the man's story was impressive nevertheless.
"So, tell me, Zalasta – how are you planning to stop them?"
The old Styric who sat opposite him still reeked of the eternal flame Khwaj, the Troll God of Fire, had put to him, and his skin bore disfiguring scars, but his eyes' stare was as cold as a Thalesian glacier.
He had been the one who had started riots all over Daresia, in hopes that Sparhawk would come to the aid of the Emperor of Tamul, so that he would have ample opportunity to dispose of him and the Child Goddess Aphrael, so that he might finally own his beloved Sephrenia for himself. His plans had been foiled by Sparhawk and the Bhelliom, who managed to destroy his new God Cyrgon, and Khwaj had punished him with burning him in an eternal, non-consuming fire. Zoltach had located him and managed to put the Troll God's flame out. Healing then had only been a matter of the proper spells. Now nothing but ugly scars reminded of the Styric magician's fate.
Zalasta cleared his throat and began to speak, still with a voice reminding Ctuchik of a person that had spent too long in the smoke of a burning house:
"I shall gather the renegades that didn't die in the demise of Zemoch and Cyrgon. Together, we should be able to stop them. After all, Sparhawk does not have the Bhelliom anymore, and the creatures we shall rise will be too strong to be banished or killed by a simple spell. And the Younger Gods cannot use the Words that could hurt them in the presence of humans – it surely would kill their friends in a heartbeat..."
Cthuchik's lips parted in a grin, a grin that the disfigured Styric joined in shortly afterwards.
"Trust me, Ctuchik, my friend – the demons we will rise shall bring you their hearts on a silver platter. And then, Zoltach's plan will succeed, and all of us shall have our vengeance on this world, and the other one!"
Oh-oh, they are up to something again! Hope you liked! Please review!