Garriel did not imagine that a castle would be anything like the Stronghold, actually. It seemed to be more of a giant wall, with passages designed to lure enemies into the wrong places, than a castle, whos main function was to house the nobility. As they walked through the halls, however, he did see servants scurrying around, taking care of the day to day affairs of the castle and its residents. Finally, they came up upon a stuffy round man who seemed to be a butler, and Silk had a couple of words to him.
While Silk was talking to the overdressed man, Garriel walked over to Velvet.
"Why is it that this place was built like a fortress?" Garriel asked quietly, not really wanting to disturb the people who were so busy scurrying around, taking care of their own affairs as if each one had a significant impact in the well being of the entire country of Algaria.
"Because it is, Garriel dear." Velvet said, patting the top of his head . Garriel found that slightly confusing. He knew that he, Sabre and Mikkal had become good friends of Silk and his wife, but he didn't think that they were at the point in which they could be considered special relatives, which is what the 'dear' implied.
"What do you mean, it is?"
"It was built with the purpose to keep out anything and everything during a war. Torak and his entire army of Angaraks could not penetrate it, even after years of seige."
When Silk came back, he explained to them that the butler was arranging for them to be presentable to the monarchs, although Garriel did not totally grasp the reason. After that, they were led to chambers where more overlydressed man were waiting for them, along with tubs filled with water, combs and scissors of all shapes and sizes, as well as a change of clothing. When Garriel entered the room, the man waiting for him order him to strip, something that Garriel was surprised he was supposed to do. However, he knew better then to argue, and soon the man was busy scrubbing his back, and cutting his hair. After what seemed to be hours, he was finally allowed to get out of the bath and into the clothes that were awaiting him. These clothes didn't fit all that well, and they were slightly itchy around his thighs, but Garriel didn't complain. He thanked the man, and then went outside to await his friends.
He saw that everyone was there, except for Velvet. Mikkal and Silk seemed to be fairing fine, although Sabre was complaining slightly about the roughness of the clothes which they were given. "Why do they have to make this cloth so course?" He complained, scratching his back vigorously. "They could spend five more seconds, maybe, and spin the thread slightly thinner, couldn't they?"
"These clothing are from northeast Drasnia, Sabre." Silk answered, as he leaned back on a seat which was positioned against on of the walls of the corridor. "And they have a peculiar sense of what is comfortable and what is uncomfortable, besides which, they probably don't realize yet that you can spin thread finer."
"So why did the tailor have to buy this kind of thread?"
"Why do you think? It is cheaper, and he would make a better profit."
"Tis a truly foul thing, that a tailer wouldst be stingy when his king is concerened." Mikkal added gravely.
"He isn't. To him, Mikkal, money is both king and god, and the more of it he has, the more service he is presenting to his king." Silk replied, smirking.
"Truly an unfortunate circumstance." Mikkal said.
"So," Garriel started, "where is Velvet?"
"Women take longer to prepare themselves for public appearance than we do, Garriel. When I was at the Sendarian castle, in the presence of the party I told you about during our nights on the plains, Polgara herself took at least an hour in her preparation. Velvet won't take quite as long, but sitting in these irritating clothes, it will seem like much longer."
Velvet didn't take all that long, and when she arrived, she was dressed in a stunning color, which seemed to match Silk's jewel encrusted doublet. "Alright boys," She said to the three friends, "The kings are going to do something strange things, like make some courtesies and we are going to give you some titles that you might not be too familiar with. Just stand back, and try not to say anything too loud, as some of the kings have a questionable sense of humor." She then cast a wicked glance at Silk, who was still lounging on the chair against the wall, "It seems that royalty as a whole doesn't have a sophisticated sense of humor."
"I'll pretend that I didn't hear that, Velvet." Silk said, sounding slightly pained. The reply was answered with a knowing nod from Velvet, and then she placed her arm within his, and motioned for the others to follow her.
As they were walking, Garriel talked quietly to Sabre. Mikkal seemed to be too impressed by all the royalty to really function at that moment.
"I don't think that we are going to have to meet with Hettar, because meeting the kings is enough of a present for me." Garriel said, his hand over his mouth to conceal the whisper.
"No, Garriel. I promised you that you would meet Hettar, and for you to learn to ride a horse much better, and I will keep that promise."
The throne room was the biggest place Garriel had ever seen. To put it simply, it was immense, and filled with kings, nobles, servants and the like. It was not hard for Garriel to tell the difference between them. The servants seemed to have a slightly more worried look upon their faces, and they were rushing around in order to complete their job, and not to be reprimanded by their superiors. Garriel understood that perfectly. The nobles seemed to be seated at the side, holding scrolls so protectively, that one would think that they held the most vital secrets in the world. The kings, on the other hand, sat below large banners of their kingdoms, and laughed and joked amongst themselves, not caring for the world around them. It must a very fine thing to be a king, Garriel imagined.
"Your royal majesties!" The butler who had been bringing them over announced, bowing deeply to the monarchs. "May I present to you Prince Kheldar of Drasnia!"
"Your majesties," Silk said, with a fluid, almost mocking, bow, "Myself and my lowly party tremble in your august presence."
As far as Garriel could tell, the only one that was not laughing was the one under the horse banner, however, that is what he expected. Cho-Hag, although a very wise king, was also very soft.
"Silk, we already know your wife, why don't you introduce us to those other three that you brought along." A red bearded giant who sat next to the throne under the ship banner boomed.
"Of course my dear Barak, whatever was I thinking. However, my wife would simply destroy me if I did not properly introduce her, so for all of you that care, and I am sure you much, I would like to present my wife, Princess Liselle of Drasnia." Silk replied. So the red bearded man was Barak. Garriel had heard of him from Silk's stories on the way there, not to mention the storyteller's stories.
"Silk," The monarch sitting under the sword banner began patiently, "The other three…"
"Of course Belgarion, I was just getting to them."
Belgarion of Riva? The Godslayer? Garriel looked over to his companions, and he noticed that they were just as amazed as he was. Of course, they knew that all the monarchs were going to be there, but Belgarion wasn't just a monarch, he was a legend. Somehow, Garriel didn't feel that his presence in the throne room was now allowed. He felt that maybe the people in the throne room were too fine, too powerful, to be in the company of so lowly a cattle herder.
Silk went on. "The Arend, is a valiant boy by the name of Mikkal. It was not a few days ago that he saved us all from a band of Murgos that were intent on providing us with our ends."
A thin man who sat under a lance banner got to his feet, and looked down at Mikkal. "It pleases mine ears to hear such heroic tales from what, methinks, a prime example of Arendia's greatest yield."
Mikkal, it seems, did not recognize Krodullin of Arenia right away, but as soon as he did, his face went absolutely pale. He fell to one knee, and bowed his head. "Lord King, mine life is to serve thee and mine country, Arendia, by demonstrating what she hast given unto her children."
"Well met, Mikkal." A man standing next to the throne said, through his body of steel.
"And the young Drasnian is named Sabre, and while he is not my relative, he has already shown talent in the area of guile." Silk announced, looking rather proudly at Sabre.
"And not only that, but he beat him in sales when we first met him." Velvet added, to the extreme discomfort of her husband, Garriel noticed.
There was a woman sitting under the reindeer banner, and she let out a cheerful laugh, looking fondly down at Silk, Velvet, and then finally to Sabre. "I think I will be able to find you a job in my intellegence service when become of age, Sabre. Not many people can beat Kheldar in a deal."
"Finally, the Algarian lad, whom although has not done anything monumental on the trip, besides, of course, being the only one that could think clearly most of the time, and spot the dangers as they arose, is Garriel." Silk concluded. Not done anything monumental? Garriel just guessed that it was Silk trying to be funny.
"My son," Cho-Hag began, smiling fondly at Garriel, "How goes the herding nowadays? Unfortunately, I am too busy with affairs to really tend to the every need of my people."
"I don't know about the other herds, but ours seems to be growing. I think it is because we don't have to move them as often to escape the Murgo raids." Garriel answered.
"Now, allow me to introduce the kings of the world to you, if, that is, the monarchs do not mind being introduced by so lowly a servant."
"Go ahead, Silk." Belgarion replied.
"Are you sure, Garion. There is probably someone much more suitable to introduce your august majesties than me."
"Get on with it."
Silk grinned wickedly at the king of Riva, and then bowed gracefully to his wife, and their three companions. "My lady and friends. First, and foremost, it pleases me to introduce Belgarion of Riva, Godslayer, Lord of the Western Sea, Overlord of the West, Previous Child of Light, and Keeper of the Orb."
"Kheldar, be serious." The little queen sitting under the reindeer banner ordered.
"Not a chance, Auntie dearest." Silk said mockingly. Then he moved over, so that behind him was the monarch that sat under the warboat banner. "Behind me sits King Anheg, Ruler of Cherek, and Commander of the World's Greatest Navy…."
Silk went on like this, moving from monarch to monarch, and mockingly called them by all the titles he could come up with, eventually getting so into it, that he began creating titles from scratch. Garriel leaned over to Velvet, who looked on with inhuman patience. "Does he always go on like this?"
"It depends. When there is actually something to do, usually not. Right now, he is busy poking fun at the kings."
"And you let him do that?"
"Wouldn't you?"
Finally, Silk finished his embellished introductions, and walked aside to talk to Queen Porenn of Drasnia. It seemed that most of the monarchs resumed what they were doing. King Anheg, King Fulrach and King Belgarion, along with the red bearded giant who Silk introduced as Barak of Trellheim, sat lazily upon their thrones, talking to each other cheerfully. Velvet of course had followed her husband to discuss matters of which Garriel was unsure. Mikkal had gone off to talk to the knight that spoke earlier, in the company of his High King, King Krodullin. Sabre had gone off to talk with the thin man by the name of Javelin, who was the head of the Drasnian spy service. The Angarak kings spoke to each other, in the company of Ran Borune of Tolnedra and Sadi, Chief Eunuch of the Palace of the Serpent Queen.
Garriel felt quite alone, actually. His friends had gone off to talk to the kings of their nations, while Cho-Hag, the Chief Clan-Chief of Algaria sat upon his throne, in the company of a strange old man. It would probably be rude to interupt, so Garriel just stood there, watching the conversations go on.
Belgarion of Riva was discussing with Anheg and Fulrach about the recent matters of that Angarak rebellion.
"So, how is the family, Garion? Last I remember, you had a little boy running around your feet, and a girl who could fit inside your tiny wife's arm." Anheg started pleasantly.
"You know how families grow. Geran is now already getting into the fads, and Beldaran has fun annoying her brother. Ce'Nedra keeps them calm though."
"I would imagine she would." Barak laughed. "Your wife has a very penetrating voice."
"You really don't have to tell me, Barak," Garion said, slapping his friend on the back in mirth, "I know all too well."
"Lifes seems to be calming down quite a bit for us, my friends. Even with this new threat, it is really not all that dangerous. We must remember that all the kings are joint against the rebels' causes, right?" Anheg mentioned, leaning back open his care to get into the most comfortable position.
"Silk once told me when I was still on the search for the Orb how we lived in important times, and how now was the time to live." Garion filled in.
"I remember that." Barak laughed. "You know the little thief was right though. I don't what I am going to do without a good war. I don't think the rebels will last more than a year, and then, what else could happen?"
"That is the beauty of the world we live in, Barak." Anheg chuckled. "You never know what is going to happen next. Who knows if it is the end of our adventures or not, only time will tell."
"I guess you are right. Hopefully, they'll be a little war now and then. Fighting tends to heat up one's blood." Barak added.
"I don't think so." Garion disagreed. "The last time the prophecy spoke to me, it said I won't have to be going off running after wars and the such. I would think that means that we can count out any big wars."
Anheg looked at Garion with slight disgust, and Barak shook his head slowly. "One of those things, is it?" Barak stated with slight displeasure.
Garion nodded.
Barak layed his giant arms down against his knees, resting his head on his hands in meloncholy. "Your friend sure knows how to ruin a man's hopes."
Garion could only nod.
Across the hall, a deep conversation was taking place between the Arends who were present in the room at the time. Mikkal was standing in pure awe of the knight, which seemed to be to King Krodullin's amusement. "Child, thou hast never seen the Baron of Vo Mander heretofore?"
Mikkal shook his head slowly, still standing in great awe. "Sir Mandorallen, thine name and crest, known worldwide for their majesty, doeth cause mine weak bones to tremble."
"Dear boy," Mandorallin said pleasantly, "Know that thy heroic actions, forasmuch as thy lack of proper training, thou art quite of the talent thyself."
"Thy words, Sir Mandorallen of Vo Mandor, fill mine weak soul with overwhelming pride, and I shalt be strengthened by thy faith in me for sempiternity."
"Well met, young warrior, well met." King Krodullin laughed.
"Garriel" Cho-Hag called softly to the Garriel, who had been standing on the side doing nothing.
"Would you come over here, there is someone that I would like you to meet."
Garriel could not believe it. Cho-Hag wanted him to meet someone? Maybe it was Hettar, or perhaps even someone better. Quickly, Garriel made his way to Cho-Hags throne, and immediately he was greeting by a friendly smile.
"Hello Garriel," said the old storyteller who had come to their herd time and time again.
"Mr. Storyteller!" Garriel cried in amazement, rubbing his eyes with both his fists. "What are
you doing here? Are you telling stories to kings now as well as us herdsmen!"
Cho-Hag laughed softly, and placed his arm upon the boy's shoulder. Then looking over at the storyteller, he laughed even more. "That he has, child. That he has."
"Did you see Belgarion, Mr. Storyteller! I can't believe I am actually seeing the people around me! It is just like your story of what happened when Belgarath, Polgara and Belgarion went after the Orb of Aldur!" Garriel said in excitement, looking around him to all the people that the storyteller had described so perfectly. They each looked exactly like the image Garriel had imagined them as from the stories.
"Yes, infact, I was talking to Belgarion earlier."
"You talked to Belgarion?" Garriel repeated in awe.
"Yes, I spoke to Belgarion." The storyteller laughed slightly, and looked over to Cho-Hag. "You know, old friend, this one happens to be much brighter than Garion was at his age, however, that is only natural. He didn't grow up under Polgara's influence."
"You're daughter would turn you into a toad if she heard you say that, old friend." Cho-Hag replied, smiling back to the storyteller.
"We don't have to tell I said anything like that, do we?" The storyteller said with a wink.
"Just be glad that Silk wasn't here to hear you say that, old friend. He might have used it for some purpose of his own."
Garriel had heard something in that brief exchange that caused him to stare at the old storyteller in shock. Obviously, the storyteller had a family, and obviously his children had grown up. However, when Cho-Hag mentioned the storyteller's daughter, right after the storyteller himself had mentioned Polgara, made a lump come to his throat.
"Is there something wrong, boy?" The storyteller asked, with an amused look on his face. Garriel looked at him, and then realized that it was true. The descriptions that he was given and the face now looking straight at him were the same, and he realized that he was staring at a legend.
"Bel….Belgarath!" He cried in shock, still staring at the old storyteller.
Cho-Hag looked at the Storyteller, and shook his head slowly. "You mean to tell me that you call someone over that didn't even know who you were. Belgarath, you have no changed a bit."
"Did you expect me to?" Belgarath replied, grinning impishly at the Chief Clan-Chief of the Algars.
Garriel, however, was taking steps back from the now unmasked sorceror. Belgarath turned back to him, with a concerned look upon his face. "Is there something wrong, boy?"
"It's just, so hard to believe that you are really him." Garriel blurted, looking around. No one else, it seemed, was bothered by the fact that the Eternal Man was standing in their mists. Then, without even thinking of it, Garriel fell to his knees, and shakingly looked up to Belgarath. "I am sorry if I have defiled you with my presence, oh Holy Belgarath. Would you please forgive me, and place your wrath upon someone else?"
"He sounds like Relg." Cho-Hag noted.
"Oh, get up, Garriel." Belgarath sighed, stumping down the few steps that led to the Algar throne, and leaning down to help him get up. "You sound like an Ulgo. You don't need to worship me, and I am not mad at you. Actually, I happen to like you, and think that you are brighter than Garion was at your age."
Almost as if hearing his name, Belgarion turned around to face the two. "Was there something you wanted, Grandfather?"
"Nothing, Garion. I was just explaining something to our young friend over here."
Belgarion shrugged and then when back to his conversation with Anheg, Barak and Fulrach.
Garriel realized that he was making a complete fool of himself, and infront of his monarch and the most famous sorceror in the world, no less. "I am sorry. This is all just hitting me all of a sudden, and I.." He was stopped with a movement from Belgarath.
"Don't worry, Garriel. You'll get used to the facts after a while, it is accepting them that is the first step. However, tell me something. Would it make any difference whether I was just the old Storyteller, or Belgarath?"
"No, not at all, Eternal Belgarath." Garriel answered quickly.
Belgarath visibly winced from the name, and shook his head slowly. "Alright then, if that is true, then you can stop with the Eternal, and just call me Belgarath."
"As you wish, sir."
Later that day, while Garriel had gone to the rooms he was granted by the royal family. There, he talked with Mikkal and Sabre, and he was happier to be in alone with them than to be walking around in the company of kings.
"So did you think of today, you guys?" Sabre asked, as he sat up on his bed.
"'Twas truly astonishing to percieve the glory of kings with mine own two eyes, and methinks I shalt never have another experience to equal it." Mikkal replied with even more style than he normally used, probably due to the fact that he had been talking with King Krodullin and the Baron Mandorallen of Vo Mandor.
"How about you, Garriel?"
"I don't know, I mean, it was great to see the kings and all, but things don't make all that much sense." Garriel still had not told him about the Storyteller, and who he truly was. He decided he would later, but first he would have to calm himself down.
"Garriel, you know what I think? I think that you are just uncomfortable with growing, or something like that. You'll find that if you just let it be, everything will come easier, you know what I am saying?"
Mutely Garriel nodded. His friend was right, though he really did not want to totally admit it to himself. For one thing, being confused was much more fun than making sense.
"Alright you guys, I think we'd better get some sleep. Tommorow is going to be an exciting day"
Even after his two friends had fallen asleep, Garriel still thought about the events which had occurred that day. The world was now a changed place for Garriel, and many truths as he knew them were now disrupted, changed with the knowledge of true identities, and he was uncomfortable with the change. His only comfort was in the fact that his two friends had not changed in the slightest and that they were as awe-struck as he was with the current assemblege they found themselves in.
As Garriel laid in his bed, pondering this, he also remembered what that other voice had told him. He still had a long road infront of him? Did that have to do with the fact that he was still growing, learning, or did that have to do with maybe something else. His thoughts were cut short, however, by a shrill cry which echoed throughout the Stronghold, and which demanded the immediate attention of everyone who heard it.
"Fire! Help! Fire!"