‘Not really,’ Silk replied with a shrug. ‘It was just your average, run-of-the-mill saving of the universe. You know how those things are. Is your son in trouble?’ Silk looked at Unrak, who seemed a bit crestfallen in his chains.

‘Not exactly that,’ Barak replied. ‘Along about noon, he turned into a bear, that’s all. We sort of thought it was significant.’

‘It runs in your family, I see. But why chain him now?’

‘The sailors refused to get into the longboat with him until we did.’

‘I didn’t follow that at all,’ Zakath murmured to Garion.

‘It’s a hereditary sort of thing,’ Garion explained. ‘Barak’s family members are the protectors of the Rivan King. When the situation demands it, they turn into bears. Barak did it several times when I was in danger. It appears that he passed it on to Unrak – his son.’

‘Unrak’s your protector now? He seems a little young, and you don’t really need that much protection.’

‘No. He’s probably Geran’s protector, and Geran was in a certain amount of danger back there in the grotto.’

‘Gentlemen,’ Ce’Nedra said then in a triumphant voice, ‘may I introduce the Crown Prince of Riva?’ She held Geran up so that they could see him.

‘He’s going to forget how to walk if she doesn’t put him down one of these days,’ Beldin muttered to Belgarath.

‘Her arms should start getting tired before too much longer,’ Belgarath said.

Barak and the others crowded around the little queen even as the sailors who had been rowing reluctantly removed the chains from Barak’s son.

‘Unrak!’ Barak roared, ‘Come here!’

‘Yes, father.’ The boy stepped out of the boat and came forward.

‘This young fellow is your responsibility,’ Barak told him, pointing at Geran. ‘I’ll be very cross if you let anything happen to him.’

Unrak bowed to Ce’Nedra. ‘Your Majesty,’ he greeted her, ‘you’re looking well.’

‘Thank you, Unrak,’ she smiled.

‘May I?’ Unrak asked, holding out his arms toward Geran. ‘His Highness and I should probably get to know each other.’

‘Of course,’ Ce’Nedra said, giving her son to the youthful Cherek.

‘We’ve missed you, your Highness,’ Unrak grinned at the little boy he held in his arms. ‘The next time you plan one of these extended trips, you should let us know. We were a little worried.’

Geran giggled. Then he reached out and tugged on Unrak’s scarcely fledged red beard.

Unrak winced.

Ce’Nedra embraced each of their old friends in turn, bestowing kisses at random. Mandorallen, of course, was weeping openly, too choked up to even deliver a flowery greeting, and Lelldorin was in virtually the same condition. Relg, peculiarly, did not even shrink from the Rivan Queen’s embrace. Relg, it appeared, had undergone certain philosophical modifications during the years of his marriage to Taiba.

‘There seem to be a few strangers here,’ Hettar noted in his quiet voice.

Silk smacked his forehead with an open palm. ‘How remiss of me,’ he said. ‘How could I have been so forgetful? This is Lady Poledra, Belgarath’s wife and Polgara’s mother. The rumors about her demise appear to have been exaggerations.’

‘Will you be serious?’ Belgarath muttered as their friends greeted the tawny-haired woman with a certain awe.

‘Not a chance,’ Silk said rogueishly. ‘I’m having too much fun with this, and I’m just starting to get warmed up. Please, gentlemen,’ he said to their friends, ‘let me get on with this. Otherwise the introductions are likely to last until midnight. This is Sadi. You should remember him – Chief Eunuch in the palace of Queen Salmissra.’

‘Formerly Chief Eunuch, Kheldar,’ Sadi corrected. ‘My Lords,’ he bowed.

‘Your Excellency,’ Hettar replied. ‘I’m sure there’ll be all sorts of explanations later.’

‘You all remember Cyradis, of course,’ Silk went on, ‘the Holy Seeress of Kell. She’s a little tired just now. She had to make a fairly important decision about noon today.’

‘Where’s that big fellow who was with you at Rheon, Cyradis?’ Barak asked her.

‘Alas, my Lord of Trellheim,’ she said. ‘My guide and protector gave up his life to insure our success.’

‘I’m deeply sorry,’ Barak said simply.

‘And this, of course,’ Silk said in an off-hand voice, ‘is his Imperial Majesty, Kal Zakath of Mallorea. He’s been rather helpful from time to time.’

Garion’s friends looked at Zakath warily, their eyes filled with surprise.

‘I’d assume that we can set aside certain unpleasantnesses from the past,’ Zakath said urbanely. ‘Garion and I have more or less resolved our differences.’

‘It pleaseth me, your Imperial Majesty,’ Mandorallen said with a creaking bow, ‘to have lived to see near-universal peace restored to all the world.’

‘Thy reputation, the marvel of the known world, hath preceeded thee. My Lord of Mandor,’ Zakath replied in an almost perfect Mimbrate dialect. ‘I do perceive now, however, that reputation is but a poor shade of the stupendous reality.’

Mandorallen beamed.

‘You’ll do just fine,’ Hettar murmured to Zakath.

Zakath grinned at him. Then he looked at Barak. ‘The next time you see Anheg, my Lord of Trellheim, tell him that I’m still going to send him a bill for all those ships of mine he sank in the Sea of the East after Thull Mardu. I think some reparations might be in order.’

‘I wish you all the luck in the world, your Majesty,’ Barak grinned, ‘but I think you’ll find that Anheg’s very reluctant to open the doors of his treasury.’

‘Never mind,’ Garion said quietly to Lelldorin, who had drawn himself up, pale-face and furious at the mention of Zakath’s name.

‘But—’

‘It wasn’t his fault,’ Garion said. ‘Your cousin was killed in a battle. Those things happen, and there’s no point in holding grudges. That’s what’s kept things stirred up in Arendia for the last twenty-five hundred years.’

‘And I’m sure you all recognize Eriond – formerly Errand,’ Silk said once again in a deliberately off-hand manner, ‘the new God of Angarak.’