This was the kind of thing Ce’Nedra completely understood. As a princess, she knew the need for instant submission to authority. Though she had wheedled, coaxed, and teased her father all her life to get her own way, she had seldom directly rebelled. She bowed her head. “I will do as thou hast commanded, Most Holy,” she replied without even thinking of the implications of the God’s words.
UL nodded with satisfaction. “Thus is the prophecy protected,” he declared. “Each of you hath his appointed tasks in this work of ours—and I have mine as well. I will delay you no longer, my children. Fare you all well in this. We will meet again.” Then he vanished.
The sounds of his last words echoed in the caverns of Ulgo. After a moment of stunned silence, the hymn of adoration burst forth again in a mighty chorus, as every Ulgo raised his voice in ecstasy at this divine visitation.
“Belar!” Barak breathed explosively. “Did you feel it?”
“UL has a commanding presence,” Belgarath agreed. He turned to look at Relg, one eyebrow cocked rather whimsically. “I take it you’ve had a change of heart,” he observed.
Relg’s face had gone ashen, and he was still trembling violently. “I will obey my God,” he vowed. “Where he has commanded me, I will go.
“I’m glad that’s been settled,” Belgarath told him. “At the moment he wants you to go to Rak Cthol. He may have other plans for you later, but right now Rak Cthol’s enough to worry about.”
“I will obey you without question,” the fanatic declared, “even as my God has commanded me.”
“Good,” Belgarath replied, and then he went directly to the point. “Is there a way to avoid the weather and the difficulties above?”
“I know a way,” Relg answered. “It’s difficult and long, but it will lead us to the foothills above the land of the horse people.”
“You see,” Silk observed to Barak, “he’s proving useful already.” Barak grunted, still not looking entirely convinced.
“May I know why we must go to Rak Cthol?” Relg asked, his entire manner changed by his meeting with his God.
“We have to reclaim the Orb of Aldur,” Belgarath told him.
“I’ve heard of it,” Relg admitted.
Silk was frowning. “Are you sure you’ll be able to find the caves under Rak Cthol?” he asked Relg. “Those caves won’t be the caverns of UL, you know, and in Cthol Murgos they’re not likely to be holy—quite the opposite, most probably.”
“I can find any cave—anywhere,” Relg stated confidently.
“All right then,” Belgarath continued. “Assuming that all goes well, we’ll go up through the caves and enter the city unobserved. We’ll find Ctuchik and take the Orb away from him.”
“Won’t he try to fight?” Durnik asked.
“I certainly hope so,” Belgarath replied fervently.
Barak laughed shortly. “You’re starting to sound like an Alorn, Belgarath.”
“That’s not necessarily a virtue,” Polgara pointed out.
“I’ll deal with the magician of Rak Cthol when the time comes,” the sorcerer said grimly. “At any rate, once we’ve recovered the Orb, we’ll go back down through the caves and make a run for it.”
“With all of Cthol Murgos hot on our heels,” Silk added. “I’ve had dealings occasionally with Murgos. They’re a persistent sort of people.”
“That could be a problem,” Belgarath admitted. “We don’t want their pursuit gaining too much momentum. If any army of Murgos inadvertently follows us into the West, it will be viewed as an invasion, and that will start a war we aren’t ready for yet. Any ideas?” He looked around.
“Turn them all into frogs,” Barak suggested with a shrug. Belgarath gave him a withering look.
“It was just a thought,” Barak said defensively.
“Why not just stay in the caves under the city until they give up the search?” Durnik offered.
Polgara shook her head firmly. “No,” she said. “There’s a place we have to be at a certain time. We’ll barely make it there as it is. We can’t afford to lose a month or more hiding in some cave in Cthol Murgos.”
“Where do we have to be, Aunt Pol?” Garion asked her.
“I’ll explain later,” she evaded, throwing a quick glance at Ce’Nedra. The princess perceived immediately that the appointment the Lady spoke of concerned her, and curiosity began to gnaw at her. .
Mandorallen, his face thoughtful and his fingers lightly touching the ribs that had been cracked in his encounter with Grul, cleared his throat. “Does there perchance happen to be a map of the region we must enter somewhere nearby, Holy Gorim?” he asked politely.
The Gorim thought for a moment. “I believe I have one somewhere,” he replied. He tapped his cup lightly on the table and an Ulgo servingman immediately entered the chamber. The Gorim spoke briefly to him, and the servingman went out. “The map I recall is very old,” the Gorim told Mandorallen, “and I’m afraid it won’t be very accurate. Our cartographers have difficulty comprehending the distances involved in the world above.”
“The distances do not matter so much,” Mandorallen assured him. “I wish but to refresh my memory concerning the contiguity of certain other realms upon the borders of Cthol Murgos. I was at best an indifferent student of geography as a schoolboy.”
The servingman returned and handed a large roll of parchment to the Gorim. The Gorim in turn passed the roll to Mandorallen.
The knight carefully unrolled the chart and studied it for a moment. “It is as I recalled,” he said. He turned to Belgarath. “Thou hast said, ancient friend, that no Murgo will enter the Vale of Aldur?”
“That’s right,” Belgarath replied.
Mandorallen pointed at the map. “The closest border from Rak Cthol is that which abuts Tolnedra,” he showed them. “Logic would seem to dictate that our route of escape should lie in that direction—toward the nearest frontier.”
“All right,” Belgarath conceded.
“Let us then seem to make all haste toward Tolnedra, leaving behind us abundant evidence of our passage. Then, at some point where rocky ground would conceal signs of our change of direction, let us turn and strike out to the northwest toward the Vale. Might this not confound them? May we not confidently anticipate that they will continue to pursue our imagined course? In time, certainly, they will realize their error, but by then we will be many leagues ahead of them. Pursuing far to our rear, might not the further discouragement of the prohibited Vale cause them to abandon the chase entirely?”
They all looked at the map.
“I like it,” Barak said, effusively slapping one huge hand on the knight’s shoulder.
Mandorallen winced and put his hand to his injured ribs.
“Sorry, Mandorallen,” Barak apologized quickly. “I forgot.”
Silk was studying the map intently. “It’s got a lot to recommend it, Belgarath,” he urged, “and if we angle up to hers” He pointed. “—we’ll come out on top of the eastern escarpment. We should have plenty of time to make the descent, but they’ll definitely want to think twice before trying it. It’s a good mile straight down at that point.”
“We could send word to Cho-Hag,” Hettar suggested. “If a few clans just happened to be gathered at the foot of the escarpment there, the Murgos would think more than twice before starting down.”
Belgarath scratched at his beard. “All right,” he decided after a moment, “we’ll try it that way. As soon as Relg leads us out of Ulgo, you go pay your father a visit, Hettar. Tell him what we’re going to do and invite him to bring a few thousand warriors down to the Vale to meet us.”
The lean Algar nodded, his black scalp lock bobbing. His face, however, showed a certain disappointment.
“Forget it, Hettar,” the old man told him bluntly. “I never had any intention of taking you into Cthol Murgos. There’d be too many opportunities there for you to get yourself in trouble.”