By evil sorcery, they passed the barrier of the sea I had caused to be and they came like thieves in the night to the city of Cthol Mishrak. By stealth and low cunning, they crept through my tower of iron and made their way to the chest that held the evil stone.
The youngest son of Cherek, whom men called Riva Iron-grip, had been so woven about with spells and enchantments that he could take up the accursed stone and not perish. And they fled with it to the west.
With the warriors of my people I pursued them, that the curse of Cthrag Yaska not again be loosed upon the land. But the one called Riva raised the stone and loosed its evil fire upon my people. Thus the thieves escaped, bearing the evil of the stone with them into their lands of the west.
Then I pulled down the mighty city of Cthol Mishrak, that my people must flee from its ruins. And I divided the Angaraks into tribes. The Nadraks I set in the north to guard the ways in which the thieves had come. The Thulls, broad of back for the bearing of burdens, I set in the middle lands. The Murgos, fiercest of my people, I sent to the south. And the most numerous I kept with me in Mallorea, to serve me and multiply against a day when I should have need of an army against the west.
Above all these peoples I set the Grolims and instructed them in enchantments and wizardry, that they be a priesthood to me and watch over the zeal of all others. And them I instructed to keep my altars burning and to be unceasing in their sacrifices to me.
Belgarath, in his wickedness, had sent Riva with the accursed stone to rule an island in the Sea of Winds. And there Belar caused two stars to fall to earth. From these, Riva forged a sword and set Cthrag Yaska into its pommel.
And when Riva gripped that sword, the universe shuddered about me, and I cried out, for my Vision had opened to me, revealing much that had been hidden before. I saw that Belgarath’s sorcerous daughter should in time be my bride, and I rejoiced. But I also saw that a Child of Light would descend from Riva’s loins, and he would be an instrument of that Destiny which opposed that other Destiny which gave me my Purpose. Then would come a day when I must wake from some long sleep to face the sword of the Child of Light. And upon that day, the two Destinies would clash, with only one victor alive and one Destiny thenceforth. But which was not revealed.
Long I pondered this Vision, but no more was revealed. And a thousand years passed, and even more.
Then I called to me Zedar, a wise and just man who had fled from the malice of Aldur’s teachings and had come unto me with an offer of service. And I sent him to the court of the Serpent People who dwelt among swamps in the west. Their God was Issa, but he was ever lazy and he slept, leaving the people who called themselves Ny-Issans to the sole rule of their queen. And to her Zedar did make certain offers, which were pleasing to her. And she sent her assassins as emissaries to the court of Riva’s descendants. There did they slay all of that line, save only one child who chose to drown himself in the sea.
Thus did the Vision err, for what Child of Light can be born when none remain to bear him?
And thus have I assured that my Purpose shall be served and that the evil of Aldur and his brothers shall not destroy the world which I caused to be created.
The Kingdoms of the West which have harkened unto the counsel and beguilements of wicked Gods and evil sorcerers will be brought unto the dust. And I will harry those who sought to deny me and confound me and multiply their suffering. And they shall be brought low and they shall fall before me, offering themselves as a sacrifice upon my altars.
And the time shall come when I have Lordship and dominion over all the earth, and all peoples shall be mine.
Hear me, ye peoples, and fear me. Bow down before me and worship me. For I am Torak, forever King of Kings, Lord of Lords, and God alone to this world which I have caused to be.
Part One
Gar og Nadrak
1
There was, Garion decided, something definitely mournful about the sound of mule bells. The mule was not a particularly loveable animal to begin with, and there was a subtle difference to his gait that imparted a lugubrious note to a bell hung about his neck. The mules were the property of a Drasnian merchant named Mulger, a lanky, hard-eyed man in a green doublet, who—for a price—had allowed Garion, Silk, and Belgarath to accompany him on his trek into Gar og Nadrak. Mulger’s mules were laden with trade goods, and Mulger himself seemed to carry a burden of preconceptions and prejudices almost as heavy as a fully loaded mule pack. Silk and the worthy merchant had disliked each other at first sight, and Silk amused himself by baiting his countryman as they rode eastward across the rolling moors toward the jagged peaks that marked the boundary between Drasnia and the land of the Nadraks. Their discussions, hovering just on the verge of wrangling, grated on Garion’s nerves almost as much as the tiresome clanging of the bells on Mulger’s mules.
Garion’s edginess at this particular time came from a very specific source. He was afraid. There was no point in trying to conceal that fact from himself. The cryptic words of the Mrin Codex had been explained to him in precise detail. He was riding toward a meeting that had been ordained since the beginning of time, and there was absolutely no way he could avoid it. The meeting was the end result of not one, but two distinct Prophecies, and even if he could persuade one of them that there had been a mistake someplace, the other would drive him to the confrontation without mercy or the slightest consideration for his personal feelings.
“I think you’re missing the point, Ambar,” Mulger was saying to Silk with that kind of acid precision some men use when talking to someone they truly despise. “My patriotism or lack of it has nothing to do with the matter. The well-being of Drasnia depends on trade, and if you people in the Foreign Service keep hiding your activities by posing as merchants, it won’t be long before an honest Drasnian isn’t welcome anywhere.” Mulger, with that instinct that seemed inborn in all Drasnians, had instantly recognized the fact that Silk was not what he pretended to be.
“Oh, come now, Mulger,” Silk replied with an airy condescension, “don’t be so naive. Every kingdom in the world conceals its intelligence activities in exactly the same way. The Tolnedrans do it; the Murgos do it; even the Thulls do it. What do you want me to do—walk around with a sign on my chest reading ‘spy’?”
“Frankly, Ambar, I don’t care what you do,” Mulger retorted, his lean face hardening. “All I can say is that I’m getting very tired of being watched everyplace I go, just because you people can’t be trusted.”
Silk shrugged with an impudent grin. “It’s the way the world is, Mulger. You might as well get used to it, because it’s not going to change.”
Mulger glared at the rat-faced little man helplessly, then turned abruptly and rode back to keep company with his mules.
“Aren’t you pushing it a little?” Belgarath suggested, lifting his head from the apparent doze in which he usually rode. “If you irritate him enough, he’ll denounce you to the border guards, and we’ll never get into Gar og Nadrak.”
“Mulger’s not going to say a word, old friend,” Silk assured him. “If he does, he’ll be held for investigation, too, and there’s not a merchant alive who doesn’t have a few things concealed in his packs that aren’t supposed to be there.”
“Why don’t you just leave him alone?” Belgarath asked.
“It gives me something to do,” Silk replied with a shrug. “Otherwise I’d have to look at the scenery, and eastern Drasnia bores me.”