"When my sons told me about what they'd found, I went to the priests of Belar and had them examine the auguries. is the year to go. The ice up there won't be as thick again for years and years. Then they cast my auguries, and from what they say, could be the most fortunate year in my whole life." "Do you actually that superstitious nonsense?" I demanded. "Are you so gullible that you think that somebody can foretell the future by fondling a pile of sheep guts?" He looked a little injured. "This was , Belgarath. I certainly wouldn't trust sheep's entrails for something like this." "I'm glad to hear that." "We used a horse instead. Horse guts never lie."