Garion awoke the next morning, opening his drowsy eyes to the bright rays of sunlight, cascading upon his royal bed. He took a deep breath in, his sense of smell guiding his eyes towards a breakfast which had been layed out for him upon a table near his bed. Ce'Nedra and the children didn't seem to be about, so he decided that they had gone off by themselves. However, when he made an attempt to get out of bed, his feet wouldn't react, and that is when he got that feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He had definitely had too much to drink last night.

He couldn't go find Ce'Nedra to complain about how sick he felt, he knew that she would just laugh scornfully, in the way that women do. Poledra would probably act in a simillar manner, so that counted her out. Belgarath was probably doing too much right now, so the only person he could truly decide on was Barak.

Throwing on some royal robes, Garion slowly eased himself through the halls towards Barak's room. He vaguely remembered where it was, since his last visit was several years ago, during the time he still beared the name "Child of Light". Finally, after groping around the corridors, he found himself at the red-beared man's door, and he knocked on the door softly. It was his wife Meril that answered the door.

"Oh, hello Garion. Is there anything I can do for you?" However, then she got a better look at the sick king standing infront of her, and slowly shook her head in disapproval. "I assume you want to get well with Barak? I don't know what possess you to drink so much."

"Thank you." Garion said politely, not really wanting to think about all the people that told him not to drink. It would make him more meloncholy than he already was.

Barak sat upon a chair, his fingers wrapped around another bottle of ale. He smiled at Garion in a sickly sort of way, and then took a chug from the bottle. Garion sat down slowly, and nodded to his friend.

"I never really understood how the extra drinking helps." Garion pointed out.

"It doesn't," Barak said with a shrug, "But, it helps me get into a comotose state which allows me to forget exactly how sick I feel."

"I see…" Garion said. His eyes darted around the room, where he saw some various clothing and armor. "So, where is Unrak these days. He is here, isn't he?"

"Of course," Barak said, a little bit defensively. "He is, after all, the protector of your son. I bring him over every chance I get."

"With the way things are going," Garion said, "I don't know if Geran will need a protector. The world is coming down into a bad case of peace, as Silk says."

"Wonder where he is." Barak said, again shrugging his shoulders. "Anyway, weren't you alive last night? The other monarchs are planning on pulling the world apart stone by stone in search of those two who are trying to rebel against Eriond."

"I guess you are right, its just…" Garion let out a sigh, as he looked out through the window at the open grasslands which covered all of Algaria. "I have this feeling like it isn't over yet."

Barak laughed shortly, although not that loudly. He was sick after all. "Garion, if you mean our excapades from years past? I don't think we will have many more of those. Remember, Cyrandis chose us over the others, so there isn't much for us to do anyway, is there?"

"I am not sure. I found a couple of things in grandfather's book and Aunt Pol's book that seemed to say to me, at least, that we aren't quite over yet." Garion said.

Barak drank a bit more of his ale, and then placed the bottle back down onto the table. "Did you check those scrolls Belgarath always is saying predicts the future. Maybe they would say something."

"No, the Mrin doesn't go past the choice." Garion said. "But it still doesn't feel right. I feel like there is yet more things to do. Things that couldn't be done without the seven gods."

"Garion, I am sure it is just because you are worried about these two traitors." Barak said, with another swig of that ale. "Once it passes, you won't think of anything else, except, maybe, why Ce'Nedra screams so much."

"You could be right."

Barak just smiled, and waved it off. Lifting the bottle of ale to his lips once again, he took a long drink, and then placed it down on the chair again. "Did they get any notice to where Silk is?"

"You know as much as I do. I didn't ask anyone this morning." Garion then looked at the sun, at its position in the sky. They were supposed to have their first meeting when the sun was exactly in the middle of the sky, and it nearly was already. "I think the meeting is going to start soon."

"Alright." Barak said, slowly getting up from the chair he was sitting on. "I feel a bit better than I did this morning."

Then the two left for the meeting area, where the events would be discussed.

Garion found this meeting slightly repetitive. Whenever an Western Monarch stood up to make a comment, the Angarak kings would denounce them, saying that it was there problem, and that they should only discuss it for now, not take any decisive action. That would get Anheg into an uproar, knowing how Anheg is, and he would go on for a half of an hour, explaining how this dealt with the world, pulling out the Mrin every once and a while. Belgarath sat with Poledra, smiling silently, as he watched the monarchs argue.

"Finally!" Anheg said hotly, on this fourth time around, "It says it in the Mrin, 'And he Shall Lordship and Dominion.' Who do you think this is over? Eriond is supposed to be the god of this planet, eventually, so it really requires all of us!"

"Anheg," Urgit replied cooly, his nose twitching slightly. "It is the main purpose of that whole previous excapade for Eriond to be the God of the World, I agree. The fact is, however, he isn't yet. So it still remains in the hands of the Angarak monarchs."

"Yes, but you have to remember that an eventuality requires for all of us to watch over Eriond! It is like a woman who is having a baby. They still watch over the baby, even though it isn't there yet!"

"My dear friend," Urgit said, through a broad smile, "Your comparisson is slightly off. First, we must remember that Eriond is not child. He is a God, and just so happens to be the God of the Angaraks. But, putting this aside, what do you plan on doing about it? You think going in and killing people is the best way to settle things?"

Anheg nodded feircly. "Yes, in fact I do."

Urgit smiled, and made a slight waving gesture with his hand. "Did it occur to you that our God doesn't like people to be killed? He made that very clear to the Grolims, didn't he Zakath?"

Zakath, who had been smiling as he watched his once hated, but now liked fellow monarch bring this argument to a close. "Why yes. I never thought the Temple of Tora-, excuse me, Eriond, could smell that fresh."

"I don't follow you…" Anheg said, his voice showing that he was not too sure of his point of view any longer.

"Well, my Cherek friend." Urgit replied, his nose how twitching with ferocious speed. "Eriond dislikes the notion of killing people. What were you expecting to do? Start killing off people in his nation without him knowing about it?"

Anheg blinked.

"I thought so. I think that brings the matter to a close, don't you?"

"Urgit," Anheg began gravely, "I like you, but your mind is too much like your brothers."

"So they tell me."

"So, Gentlemen," Belgarath said, slowly rising into the air, "Have you decided on the way you will pursue these threats?"

"Well, I would like to ask Silk what he thinks." Porenn answered with a sharp tone. Obviously she did not like being refered to as a "Gentleman". "Of anyone that would know how to handle a situation like this, it would be Silk."

"Methinks ye may be right, your Highness." Krodullin said, to the firm approval of Mandorallen, the invincible Mimbrate knight.

"Mine King," Mandorallen said, "Speaks judiciously. Prince Kheldar, being the sly knave he is, couldst come up with a contrivance."

Urgit looked around, his fingers tapping against the wood of his throne. Barak placed a firm slap of his giant hand onto the Murgo King's back. "Don't worry, Urgit. We don't doubt you. Silk just knows more about stealing, spying and hiding than you do."

At least that was a plus, Garion thought. He hadn't seen Silk for a while, and he missed the outrageous retorts of the small little man. Silk always had something to say, and it usually had to do with ridiculing someone else.

"So that is it then?" Garion asked, looking around as his fellow monarchs. "We wait for Silk?"

There were some nods, and finally, Cho-Hag stood up, looking around at the numerous guests. "I do believe that we should go down and explain matters to our wives. I will tell the guards to be on the lookout, and send some messangers around the area to pick up Silk."

Ce'Nedra was ecstatic when Garion told her that Silk was going to be coming. However, she wasn't too excited about seeing the man, rather, about seeing the man's wife.

"Oh Garion! I haven't seen Velvet in such a long time!" Ce'Nedra replied cheerfully.

"Well, you should be seeing her soon, dear. There really isn't any place for Silk to hide, as Algaria is basically just one big, open grassland." Garion replied, smiling slightly as he saw his wife reacting to the news so happily.

"I have to get a new dress, of course." Ce'Nedra then started, walking over to a desk which they had in the room, and began to write down the things she would need. "And some new jewlery. A nice dress for Beldaran, and a nice new suit for Geran. Oh! And we have to polish your crown, to make you look regal."

"To make me?" Garion asked, startled slightly. If he wasn't regal now, what was the whole point of Ce'Nedra's being so bossy on exactly what he wore, and exactly how he wore it.

"Dear, you look handsome now." She said neutrally. "However, I want you to look regal."

Garion felt slightly hurt. Ce'Nedra, as if she could sense it, walked over to him, and planted a quick kiss upon his cheek. "Don't worry Garion, I'll love you no matter how servile you look."

"Thanks awefully."

Ce'Nedra giggled and patted her husband upon the other cheek. Then, her lips turned up into a wicked smile. "Garion, do you think they have any children yet?"

Garion blinked slightly, not really sure where that question was coming from. "I don't know, why do you ask, Ce'Nedra?"

"Well, you remember before the Choice, when each of them were sneaking into each other's bedrooms. What do you think they were doing there?"

"CE'NEDRA!"

Ce'Nedra giggled, and then planted another kiss upon her husband. "Come on, Garion. I don't think it is going to be all that long before they come."

Across the plains of Drasnia, there were five friends venturing on towards the next city. They moved more cautiously now, peering from side to side to glance across those boundless grasslands in search of a Murgo who might be on the way. However, since their last encounter with the group of Murgos, none had been foolish enough to take up a battle with them.

"Methinks, that the Murgos hast ran like the craven beasts they are, from our propinquity." Mikkal said, looking around at the plains from atop his mount.

Silk looked over his shoulder to the Arend, sighing with a slap of his hand to his forehead. Garriel know why. Mikkal acted like a Mimbrate, he would have been the very definition of one if it wasn't for something peculiar about his appearance that made them uncertain to his geneology. What is was, however, Garriel really couldn't figure out.

Sabre looked at Silk, then over to his Arendish friend. He shrugged his shoulders, and glanced over to Garriel, pulling his horse over to him. He then leaned over from his saddle, speaking softly into his friend's ear. "Garriel, I think that we might need a leash for Mikkal soon. He is starting to act like a Mimbrate Knight."

Garriel looked at his friend with a perplexed expression, which then fell to a solemn nod.

"I think you boys are making too much of it." Velvet spoke to them softly. She had pulled up her horse behind the two, and was leaning forward, making sure that her voice was as quiet and her gesture as inconspicuous as possible. There wasn't a real need for it anyway. Mikkal didn't have enough mental power to assume that they were talking about him. "It it amuses him, then let him play knight."

Garriel and Sabre looked at each other, and then with a shrug of their shoulders, accepted the blond Drasnian's advice.

"It's better this way anyway. He seems to be the strongest of all of us, and people don't usually attack Mimbrate knights. It he plays the part, I don't think there will be a reccurence."

"There is a city coming up!" Silk called from the front of their party, pointing at a wall slowly rising out over the horizon. Garriel estimated that it was some 2 leagues away.

"I think it is the surrounding area of the Stronghold." Velvet said wisely, lifting a single hand up, to block the sun from getting into her eyes are she glanced at the incoming habitation.

"The Stronghold?" Mikkal asked, looking over to Sabre for some clarification. It seemed he never paid attention when the bards came to their herd, and told them of when Torak, the One-eyed, Maimed God of Angarak had set seige to that landmark, but never conquered it.

"It's the Algar palace, Mikkal." Sabre said, with a gesture of his hand. Sabre, it seemed, enjoyed to be extravagant. "Its where King Cho-Hag and Queen Silar live."

"And it is not where I want to be right now." Silk added, grinding his teeth in his bad fortune.

They all cast Silk strange looks. Even Velvet looked to be slightly confused. Silk took in a breath, sighed, and began to explain.

"Velvet, I don't know why you are confused, unless you haven't been keeping in contact with Javelin. Well, have any of you ever heard of the Alorn Council?"

"That is when the four Alorn Monarchs get together to discuss the current times, isn't it?" Garriel supplied, wondering why it would have such an impact on the small Drasnian.

"Well, those same monarches had been enjoying gathering around me, laughing about my getting married. It seems to be a big joke to them."

That startled the three friends. Not only that, but Velvet wasn't taken aback at all. Sabre, who seemed to be the first to recover his nerves, looked on questioningly. "And why would they do that?" Then he grinned, and Garriel knew he was about to make a witty comment, probably to the liking of the blond Drasnian. "Your choice for wife, I would say, was most ingenius."

Velvet blushed, and then looked at Silk, who although his cheeks were red, Garriel could not be sure it was from embarassment or irritation. "No, Sabre. You don't seem to understand. I used to go around and make it my buisness to make sure everyone knew that I was not married. Of course things and times have changed, but the kings like to rub it in my face every chance they get."

Sabre grinned again. "It sounds like you deserve it, then."

Silk glared at him, as the others smirked under unobtrusivly.

"Alright, you had your fun." Silk said, giving up. "But now, listen. When we get in there, you are going to have to call me by something else."

"Ambar of Kotu?" Garriel suggested.

"No, it has to be something new. My other characters are getting too well known. I think we are going to need something to rise up to the occasion."

"Why doest thou need to comest up with a false appellation, friend Silk? Perchance, we canst just equivocate the city all together?"

"No, that wouldn't look right. We have the bearings of a Drasnian merchant party, and they can obviously see us from over there. There is nothing to obscure their view. If we turned back, or went around it now, it would attract too much attention. Now, I do think that we will walk on towards the city slowly, so we can make it just before the sun sets. I don't want to have to go out into the market place until I have all the ideas in place for my new self."

So they slowed their pace smoothly, until their were practically tip-toeing. Garriel kept silent all the while, wondering what was going to happen next. He noticed that Sabre and Velvet chatted about things he could not hope to understands, things like espionauge and thievery. Mikkal sat on his mount, probably trying to compose some more of that bad poetry.

They reached the gates to the city surrounding that fortress right before sundown, just as Silk had wanted. Silk led them to a inn, where they checked in for the night. Then, the Drasnian prince disappeared into his room, obviously working on his new disguise, or rather, person. Garriel looked around the inn, looking at its dust piled corners, its filthy walls, and its squeeking windows. It didn't appear to be habitable, according to him. Sure, he had lived in tents for all his life, or at least until he could remember, but people did have to have to draw the line somewhere. He turned to Sabre, motioning to him, as the two walked to the side, followed by Mikkal.

"I don't like this place," Garriel began, "It doesn't feel right. It is almost as if the innkeepers don't care about the looks of their rooms."

"I hast notice that too, mine friend," Mikkal said, placing one large hand upon Garriel's shoulder, as if he was trying to make a gesture of comfort.. "However, we shalt live with what our friends decide. One must always be curteous to one's providers."

"Prudence, Mikkal?" Sabre said slyly, his eyes narrowing in an amused way, focusing all his attention on the now confused Arend.

"Mine friend, 'tis well know that one must yield to those that provide for him, is it not so?" Mikkal said, in an attempt to defend himself.

"No, no. It's just that you like to jump head into things usually, Mikkal." Sabre waved off the thought. "It just seemed strange that you would take a view like that, that is all."

"What Sabre means," Garriel spoke up quickly, "Is that you usually like to be more independent, not relying on the care of others." While he was speaking, he brought his hand up to Sabre's mouth slowly, as to stop him from making any further comments. He was confusing Mikkal enough as it is.

"Ah, why didnst thou say so, Sabre?" Mikkal inquired.

Garriel still held his hand over Sabre's mouth, and decided that he would speak for him. "Sabre was making a joke, Mikkal. He thinks that he is funny sometimes."

Dinner that night was patridge, delicately roasted with some fine spices. Garriel sort of owndered how they got such fine foods in a place like this, and then it occurred to him that Silk and Velvet were probably capable of hiring chefs to bring in and cook their meals for them. Those were two very resourceful people to be traveling with. As he looked around the table, he noticed some familiar faces and some new ones, but there was one face that seemed slightly familiar, although, he really couldn't place where it was from. Sabre was talking to that person, and he looked just as befuddled as Garriel did.

"So, friend, where are you from?" Sabre was asking this mysterious man.

"Around the fens, actually." the strange man replied. "It smells slightly, but then again, so does the rest of Dransnia."

"And you say that you are a merchant?"

"Yes, why, friend Sabre, would you like to do buisness?"

"No, just curious." Sabre replied, as he rubbed the bottom of his chin. "How do you know Prince Kheldar? It seems that everyone here knows him in some sort of a way."

"We went to school together." The merchant said with a shrug, reaching over for a glass of a particular wine which was standing on the table. "This is very fine stuff. The next time I see Silk I will have to ask him where he got it."

Sabre's eyes narrowed, as he tried to looked deeper at the man who was sitting next to him. He then let out an explosive breath, which was followed by a sigh. "Never mind, I thought you were someone, but I guess I was wrong."

"Really?" The unfamiliar merchant questioned, a bemused looked upon his face. "Who did you think I was? You didn't think I was Silk himself, did you?"

Sabre blushed slightly, as the merchant had apparantly looked straight through him. Garriel was surprised, he had always thought that Sabre was too clever to be caught by a mere merchant from some nameless part of Dransnia. "Yes, in fact, I did." Sabre said, in a slightly subdued voice.

The merchant then let out a peal of laughter, clasping Sabre on the back. He pointed to his leg, and rubbed one leg against the next, and Sabre's eyes widened. Then he two began to break out in laughter.

"What's so funny!" A man on the other side of the table demanded, although his appeal was weakened by the fact that he was notably drunk.

"Nothing, good sir." The merchant replied with a wave of his hand. "The lad and I are merely discussing the strange dealing I had with someone earlier today."

The man, enraged by the obviously diluted answer got up from his seat, although falteringly, and began to trudge in the direction of Sabre and he merchant. The merchant was flicking his fingers at the man, obvoiusly trying to tell him something, but the man was too drunk to read the gestures of the secret language. He came up to Sabre, and lifted him up by the front of his tunic, his eyes unfocused on the air infront of him. "Boy, tell me what you find so amusing!"

The merchant's blow was almost too swift to be seen. He let out a quick jab to the man's stomach, which caused him to drop Sabre upon the floor. Then the man fumbled back, falling to the ground. He made a couple of attempts to get up, but he was simply too drunken to focus his strength. The merchant leaped atop the man, and began to speak to him quite harshly, although Garriel noticed that he was weaving his fingers in the air quite close to the man's eyes. Then, the merchant helped the man up, shaked his hand, and walked back to Sabre.

"Sabre, Garriel and Mikkal. Come with me. I have to discuss something with you." The merchant said quite firmly, as he walked off towards a back room. Garriel looked at Sabre questioningly, but Sabre replied with a calm nod of his head. Garriel then grabbed Mikkal by the arm, and led the Arend towards the room that the merchant had entered.

And there was Silk! He was frowning slightly, rubbing his hands together as he thought.

"Friend Silk!" Mikkal cried. "Couldest thou direct me and mine friends after that sly merchant whom hast directest us to follow within his steps?"

"Mikkal," Silk replied patiently, although he was still frowning. "That merchant was me, or at least, I am the merchant. I haven't all the papers yet, but Valgon of the Fens is going to grow to be quite the merchant in a couple of years."

"What is this all about, Silk?" Velvet asked, as she walked through the door.

"That man who just seemingly attacked Sabre is an old friend of mine, who works at the Stronghold. Apparantly, the monarchs are really anxious to get their hands on me, which is what I thought from the beginning. However, the matter is slightly more serious than I thought."

"What is it?" Velvet asked, her tone slightly more concerned.

"It seems that people are plotting against an old friend of ours, Velvet. And let's just say that this friend of ours has a sort of, divine presence."

Velvet's eyes widened slightly, as she looked to her husband, comprhending a situation which the three friends did not even begin to understand. "You can't be serious!"

"I am afraid I am. So I guess the subterfuge will have to wait, and we have to go talk to their royal Highnesses."

"What do you want us to do?" Garriel asked curiously. "We can probably manage ourselves here for a little while. Sabre is an awefully good haggler, and he can probably earn our keep, while Mikkal could probably take care of other, more mundane matters, no?"

Both Sabre and Mikkal expressed their agreement with abrupt nods of their heads.

"No," Silk said, "I think I am going to take you along. Besides, if the kings really are all here, then Hettar should be there as well. Isn't that the reason that you started on this whole journey, anyway?"

The three friends looked at each other, their eyes wide and their faces astonished. "You mean to say that we are going to be able to see the kings?" Garriel asked.

"Tis a great thing, mine friends," Mikkal added, "For youths, such as ourselves, to be in the overwhelming presence of the august nobility."

"Don't get your hopes up too much." Silk muttered under his breath, but Garriel was pretty sure that it was just him being himself.