"And what was that?"
"He's trying to convince people that a new God will come to rule over Angarak -either a resurrection of Torak himself or some new deity infused with Torak's spirit. He's even got a candidate in mind for this new God of Angarak."
"Oh? Who's that?"
Zakath's expression became amused. "He sees his new God every time he looks in a mirror."
"You're not serious!"
"Oh, yes. Urvon's been trying to convince himself that he's at least a demigod for several centuries now. He'd probably have himself paraded all over Mallorea in a golden chariot -except that he's afraid to leave Mal Yaska. As I understand it, there's a very nasty hunchback who's been hungering to kill him for eons -one of Aldur's disciples, I believe."
Garion nodded. "Beldin," he said. "I've met him."
"Is he really as bad as the stories make him out to be?"
"Probably even worse. I don't think you'd want to be around to watch what he does, if he ever catches up with Urvon."
"I wish him good hunting, but Urvon's not my only problem, I'm afraid. Not long after the death of Torak, certain rumors started coming out of Darshiva. A Grolim priestess -Zandramas by name- also began to predict the coming of a new God."
"I didn't know that she was a Grolim," Garion said with some surprise.
Zakath nodded gravely. " She formerly had a very unsavory reputation in Darshiva. Then the so-called ecstasy of prophecy fell on her, and she was suddenly transformed by it. Now when she speaks, no one can resist her words. She preaches to multitudes and fires them with invincible zeal. Her message of the coming of a new God ran through Darshiva like wildfire and spread into Regel, Voresebo, and Zamad as well. Virtually the entire northeast coast of Mallorea is hers."
"What's the Sardion got to do with all this?" Garion asked.
"I think it's the key to the whole business," Zakath replied. "Both Zandramas and Urvon seem to believe that whoever finds and possesses it is going to win out."
"Agachak -the Hierarch of Rak Urga- believes the same thing," Garion told him.
Zakath nodded moodily. "I suppose I should have realized that. A Grolim is a Grolim -whether he comes from Mallorea or Cthol Murgos."
"It seems to me that maybe you should go back to Mallorea and put things in order."
"No, Belgarion, I won't abandon my campaign here in Cthol Murgos."
"Is personal revenge worth it?"
Zakath looked startled.
"I know why you hated Taur Urgas, but he's dead, and Urgit's not at all like him. I can't really believe that you'd sacrifice your whole empire just for the sake of revenging yourself on a man who can't feel it."
"You know?" Zakath's face looked stricken. "Who told you?"
"Urgit did. He told me the whole story."
"With pride, I expect." Zakath's teeth were clenched, and his face pale.
"No, not really. It was with regret -and with contempt for Taur Urgas. He hated him even more than you do."
"That's hardly possible, Belgarion. To answer your question, yes, I will sacrifice my empire -the whole world if need be- to spill out the last drop of the blood of Taur Urgas. I will neither sleep nor rest nor be turned aside from my vengeance, and I will crush whomever stands in my path."
"Tell him, " the dry voice in Garion's mind said suddenly.
"What?"
"Tell him the truth about Urgit. "
"But- "
"Do it, Garion. He needs to know. There are things he has to do, and he won't do them until he puts this obsession behind him. "
Zakath was looking at him curiously.
"Sorry, just receiving instructions," Garion explained lamely.
"Instructions? From whom?"
"You wouldn't believe it. I was told to give you some information." He drew in a deep breath. "Urgit isn't a Murgo," he said flatly.
"What are you talking about?"
"I said that Urgit isn't a Murgo -at least not entirely.
His mother was, of course, but his father was not Taur Urgas."
"You're lying!"
"No, I'm not. We found out about it while we were at the Drojim Palace in Rak Urga. Urgit didn't know about it either."
"I don't believe you, Belgarion!" Zakath's face was livid, and he was nearly shouting.
"Taur Urgas is dead," Garion said wearily. "Urgit made sure of that by cutting his throat and burying him head down in his grave. He also claims that he had every one of his brothers -thereal sons of Taur Urgas- killed to make himself secure on the throne. I don't think there's one drop of Urga blood left in the world."
Zakath's eyes narrowed. "It's a trick. You've allied yourself with Urgit and brought me this absurd lie to save his life."
"Use the Orb, Garion," the voice instructed.
"How?"
"Take it off the pommel of the sword and hold it in your right hand. It'll show Zakath the truths that he needs to know."
Garion rose to his feet. "If I can show you the truth, will you look?" he asked the agitated Mallorean Emperor.
"Look? Look at what?"
Garion walked over to his sword and peeled off the soft leather sleeve covering the hilt. He put his hand on the Orb, and it came free with an audible click. Then he turned back to the man at the table. "I'm not exactly sure how this works," he said. "I'm told that Aldur was able to do it, but I've never tried it for myself. I think you're supposed to look into this." He extended his right arm until the Orb was in front of Zakath's face.
"What is that?"
"You people call it Cthrag Yaska," Garion replied.
Zakath recoiled, his face blanching.
"It won't hurt you -as long as you don't touch it."
The Orb, which for the past months had rather sullenly obeyed Garion's continued instruction to restrain itself, slowly began to pulsate and glow in his hand, bathing Zakath's face in its blue radiance. The Emperor half lifted his hand as if to push the glowing stone aside.
"Don't touch it," Garion warned again. "Just look."
But 'Zakath's eyes were already locked on the stone as its blue light grew stronger and stronger. His hands gripped the edge of the table in front of him so tightly that his knuckles grew white. For a long moment he stared into that blue incandescence. Then, slowly, his fingers lost their grip on the table edge and fell back onto the arms of his chair. An expression of agony crossed his face. "They have escaped me," he groaned with tears welling out of his closed eyes, "and I have slaughtered tens of thousands for nothing." The tears began to stream down his contorted face.