Enchanters' End Game (The Belgariad, Book 5)
David Eddings
Language: English
Pages: 384
ISBN: 0345338715
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
THE DRIVE OF PROPHECY
The quest was over. The Orb of Aldur was restored. And once again, with the crowning of Garion, there was a descendant of Riva Iron-grip to rule as Overlord of the West.
But the Prophecy was unfulfilled. In the east, the evil God Torak was about to awaken and seek dominion. Somehow, Garion had to face the God, to kill or be killed. On the outcome of that dread duel rested the destiny of the world. Now, accompanied by his grandfather, the ancient sorcerer Belgarath, Garion headed toward the City of Endless Night, where Torak awaited him.
To the south, his fiancée, the princess Ce'Nedra, led the armies of the West in a desperate effort to divert the forces of Torak's followers from the man she loved.
The Prophecy drove Garion on. But it gave no answer to the question that haunted him: How does a man kill an immortal God?
Here is the brilliant conclusion to the epic of The Belgariad, which began in Pawn of Prophecy--a novel of fate, strange lands, and a Prophecy that must be fulfilled--the resolution of the war of men, Kings, and Gods that had spanned seven thousand years!
A Knot in the Grain and Other Stories
The Inquisitor’s Apprentice (The Inquisitor’s Apprentice, Book 1)
Queen of Sorcery (The Belgariad, Book 2)
The Eye of Zoltar (The Chronicles of Kazam, Book 3)
The Ectoplasmic Man (The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes)
Belgarath put his hand on his grandson’s arm. ‘Stay a moment,’ the old man said. ‘I don’t think we should intrude, Grandfather,’ Garion said nervously. ‘We’ll only stay for a few minutes,’ Belgarath assured him. The old man’s lips were actually quivering with a suppressed mirth. ‘There’s something I want you to see.’ One of Aunt Pol’s eyebrows raised questioningly as her father and Garion followed into the apartment. ‘Are we responding to some ancient and obscure custom, father?’ she asked.
Merel had told her flatly, removing the quill from the queen’s hand, even as she had been in the act of signing the hastily drawn-up proclamation. ‘They’re attached to their beards like little boys attached to a favorite toy. You can’t make them cut off their whiskers.’ ‘I’m the Queen.’ ‘Only as long as they permit you to be. They accept you out of respect for Anheg, and that’s as far as it goes. If you tamper with their pride, they’ll take you off the throne.’ And that dreadful threat had
went through a rather noisy taproom to the maze of cubicles at the back, where other entertainments were provided. At the end of a foul-smelling hallway, a lean, hard-eyed woman, whose arms were covered from wrist to elbow with cheap, gaudy bracelets, pointed wordlessly at a scarred door, then turned abruptly and disappeared through another doorway. Behind the door lay a filthy room with only a bed for furniture. On the bed were two sets of clothing that smelled of tar and salt water, and
Taiba on board Barak’s ship. A breeze coming upriver gently rippled the surface of the water and set the ship to rocking slowly. Beyond the watchfires, the Thullish grassland stretched as if for ever beneath a purpling sky where, one by one, the stars were emerging. ‘How far is it to Thull Mardu?’ Ce’Nedra asked Barak. The big man pulled at his beard, squinting downriver. ‘One day to the rapids,’ he replied, ‘then one day to make the portage around them. Then about two days after that.’ ‘Four
Amidships, Relg was leading his Ulgos in a quiet religious service, muttering the harsh gutturals of the Ulgo tongue in a scarcely audible murmur. Their pale faces had been smeared with soot, and they looked like so many shadows as they knelt in prayer to their strange God. ‘They’re the key to the whole thing,’ Rhodar observed quietly to Polgara as he watched the devotions of the Ulgos. ‘Are you sure that Relg is all right for this? Sometimes he seems a bit unstable.’ ‘He’ll be fine,’ Polgara