Belgarath the Sorcerer (73 page)

I couldn't fault their reasoning, since they were Alorns themselves. Besides, Pol was vegetating in Annath, and I thought it might not be a bad idea for her to get away for a while.

You have no idea of how quickly she agreed with me about that.

We went on over to Algaria first, since it was right next door - so to speak - and we finally ran Cho-Hag down. Algars
do
move around a lot. Even at the age of seven, Hettar was a grim-faced little boy who spent almost every waking moment practicing with his weapons and his horses. His eyes went absolutely flat every time anyone even mentioned the word ‘Murgo.' He obviously already had plans for what would become his life's work. I don't like Murgos all that much myself, but Hettar takes it to extremes.

All Alorns have heard of me and my daughter, of course, so Cho-Hag greeted us royally. I saw to it that Pol got the chance to talk with Hettar at some length, and she was very dubious about him when we left for Drasnia. ‘I think he's
hovering right on the verge of insanity, father,' she told me. ‘He'll be an absolute monster when he grows up, and he'll eventually become King of the Algars.'

‘That's a problem for the Murgos, isn't it?' I replied.

‘Don't be so smug, old man. Hettar's got all the makings of a berserker, and I think there'll be times when that could put us
all
in danger. You
do
know that he's a Sha-Dar, don't you?'

‘Yes. I sensed that the first time I saw him. Does he know yet?'

‘He might. He knows that he's a lot closer to horses than other Algars are. He may not have made the connection yet. Are the other two Alorns as wild as this one seems to be?'

‘I haven't seen either of them in a while. Kheldar should be fairly civilized. He's Drasnian, after all. I can't make any promises about Barak. He's Cherek, and that whole country's full of wild-men.'

Prince Kheldar, the nephew of Rhodar, Crown Prince of Drasnia, was a small, wiry boy with a long, sharp nose, and he was already too clever by half. Even at ten, he was smarter than most full-grown men. He flattered Pol outrageously and won her over in about ten minutes. She
liked
him, but she was wise enough not to trust him.

 

You should always keep that firmly in mind if you happen to have any dealings with Silk. It's perfectly all right to like him, but don't ever make the mistake of trusting him. He's married now, but his wife's at least as devious as he is, so I wouldn't trust her, either.

 

After we'd visited with Kheldar's family for a few days, Pol and I went down to Kotu and took ship for Val Alorn. When we got there, I borrowed some horses at the palace, and we rode to Trellheim. Barak was eight years old or so, and his cousin, Anheg, the Crown Prince of Cherek, was about a year older. Anheg was visiting his cousin, and the
two of them were already almost as big as full-grown men. Barak had flaming red hair, but Anheg's hair was coarse and black. They were a couple of rowdies, but that was to be expected. They
were
Chereks, after all.

I introduced Pol to them, and she managed to get them to stay in one place long enough for a talk.

‘Well?' I said to her as we were riding back to Val Alorn, ‘what do you think?'

‘They'll work out just fine,' she replied. ‘They're noisy and boastful, but they're both very intelligent. Anheg's going to make a very good king, I think, and he already relies on Barak.'

‘Did you get any sense of what that “Dreadful Bear” business is all about?'

‘Not entirely. It's got something to do with the Godslayer. It
could
simply mean that Barak's going to go berserk if the Godslayer's in any kind of danger, but it might go even further. Maybe it'll get clearer by the time Barak's full-grown.'

‘Let's hope so. I'd like to know about it a little in advance if there's going to be an actual change.'

We sailed back to Darine from Val Alorn, and then went on to Annath. The twins went back to the Vale, and I said good bye to Pol and took the Great North Road back to Boktor. I wanted to have a look at Prince Kheldar's uncle, Rhodar, the Crown Prince of Drasnia. I talked with him for a bit, and I wasn't disappointed. Even as a young man, Rhodar was decidedly chubby, but what a mind he had! The three of them, Rhodar, Anheg, and Cho-Ram were all going to be outstanding kings, and I was fairly sure we were going to need all their talents when things started to come to a head.

I was on the go almost continually then, so I seldom got back to the Vale to talk with the twins. We stayed in touch, though.

Then, in the spring of 5346, they told me that Pol had gone off on another of those mysterious errands of hers
and that they were filling in for her at Annath.

I hurried back there so that I could talk with them face to face. Our means of communication was convenient, I'll grant you, but there were Murgos in the west again, and where you've got Murgos, you've also got Grolims, and Grolims have ways to pick random conversations out of the air. I
definitely
didn't want some Grolim locating Polgara and tracking her back to Annath.

‘I
wish
she'd let me know what she's going to do before she just runs off like this!' I fumed when I met with the twins. ‘Where's she gone to
this
time?'

‘Gar og Nadrak,' Beltira replied.

‘She's gone
where?
'

‘Gar og Nadrak. This time it was the Mrin that told her to go there. You remember those Nadrak “friends” we told you about back in the forty-ninth century? And you went there to have a look?'

‘Yes.' Of course I remembered. That was the time I'd picked up all that gold.

‘These “friends” are out and about now, so Pol's gone to Gar og Nadrak to identify them.'

‘
I
could have done that!' I shouted in a sudden fury.

‘Not as well as Pol can,' Belkira disagreed. ‘Don't yell at
us
, Belgarath. We just passed on the instructions to her, we didn't make them up.'

I got control of myself. ‘Where exactly is she?'

‘She and her owner are in Yar Nadrak.'

‘Her
owner
?'

‘Didn't you know? Women are considered property in Gar og Nadrak.'

It was in that same year, 5346, that a recurring pestilence broke out once again in western Drasnia. The disease appears to be endemic in that part of the world, and I rather think that the fens might have something to do with it. It's a virulent kind of disease that's usually fatal, and those who survive it are generally grotesquely disfigured.

Since Pol was off in Yar Nadrak, I was obliged to spend a year or so pinned down in Annath. I kept an eye on Geran, but we seldom had time to do any fishing, since he had other things on his mind. He was in the process of building his own house, and every time Ildera's clan was near the border, he spent just about every waking moment with her. Ildera was a tall blonde girl and very lovely. Geran seemed quite taken with her, not that he really had any choice in the matter. It appeared that the Necessity could handle those arrangements all by itself even when Pol wasn't around to guide the young people into those marriages. That made me feel rather smug, for some reason.

It was about midsummer in the year 5347 when a bone-thin Drasnian named Khendon came to Annath with a message for me. Khendon was a margrave, I think, but he had better things to do than sit around polishing his title. Since spying seems to be Drasnia's national industry, most members of the Drasnian nobility routinely attend the academy of the intelligence service, and Khendon had been no exception. It's while they're at the academy that they pick up those distinctive nicknames, and Khendon had been dubbed ‘Javelin', probably because he was so thin. Though he wasn't really very old, Javelin was already one of the best in the service. I've always rather liked him. He's one
of the few men in the world who can keep Silk off-balance. That in itself makes him extremely valuable.

He leaned back in his chair in Darral's kitchen while Geran's mother was fixing supper. Darral and Geran were still hard at work in the stone-quarry. ‘I chanced to be in Yar Nadrak, Ancient One,' Javelin told me, ‘and your daughter looked me up. She gave me a message for you.' He reached inside his doublet, drew out a folded and sealed sheet of parchment, and held it out to me. ‘She said that you'd understand why she chose to do it this way instead of what she called “the other way”. What did she mean by that?'

‘It's one of those things you don't need to know about, Javelin,' I told him.

‘I need to know about
everything
, Ancient One,' he disagreed.

‘Curiosity can get you into a lot of trouble, Javelin. There are two worlds out there that sort of co-exist. You take care of yours, and I'll take care of mine. We'll try not to step on each other's toes too often. Believe me, it's smoother that way. I've been at this for a long time, so I know what I'm doing.' I broke the wax seal - which I'm sure Javelin had carefully replaced after he'd browsed through the message - and read the note from my daughter.

‘Father,' it began, ‘I'm ready to come home now. Come to Yar Nadrak, and bring plenty of money. My owner will probably expect a sizeable price for me.'

‘What's the going price for a slave-woman in Gar og Nadrak, Khendon?' I asked the skinny Drasnian.

‘That depends on the woman, Holy One,' he replied, ‘and upon how good a bargainer the buyer is. Bear in mind the fact that there are three parties involved in the bargaining.'

‘Would you like to explain that?'

‘The woman's interested in the price too, Belgarath - since she gets half, and since the price is an indication of her value. As a matter of pride, your daughter's going to insist on a very high price.'

‘Even from
me
?'

‘It's a quaint custom, Holy One. You
do
want her back, don't you?'

‘That depends on how much it's going to cost me.'

‘
Belgarath
!' He actually sounded shocked.

‘I'm joking, Khendon. Just give me a round number. I've got some ten-ounce gold bars knocking around in my tower somewhere. How many should I take with me?'

‘A dozen or so, at least. Anything less would be insulting.'

‘You're enjoying this, aren't you?'

‘You're the one who asked the question, Belgarath. I'm just trying to give you my best guess.'

‘Thanks,' I said in a flat tone of voice. ‘What's her owner's name?'

‘Gallak, Holy One. He's a merchant who's involved in the fur trade. The fact that he owns your daughter gives him a certain amount of prestige, so he probably won't sell her cheaply. Take my advice and bring plenty of money to the bargaining table.'

I stood up. ‘Keep an eye on things here, Khendon. I'll send the twins up to relieve you as soon as I get back to the Vale.'

‘It shall be as you say, Holy Belgarath.'

I walked on out of Annath, went falcon, and flew directly to the Vale. I spoke briefly with the twins, then I hunted through my tower and finally located my stack of gold bars - behind a bookshelf, if you can imagine that. I tucked about twenty of them - twelve and a half pounds or so - into a saddle-bag, and then I went north in search of an Algar clan to provide me with a horse. I've imposed on the Algars that way any number of times over the years.

I skirted the Sendarian border, and I reached Aldurford in a couple of days. Then I followed the Great North Road up along the causeway that crosses the fens to Boktor. I stopped there only long enough to purchase a suit of Drasnian clothes. Then I crossed the moors to the Nadrak border.

‘What's your business in Gar og Nadrak?' one of the border guards demanded suspiciously after he'd stopped me.

‘My business is just that, friend,' I told him bluntly, ‘
my
business. I'm going to Yar Nadrak to buy something. Then I'm going to take it back to Boktor and sell it. I've got all the necessary documents, if you want to see them.'

‘A certain gratuity's customary,' he suggested hopefully.

‘I try not to be a slave to custom,' I told him. ‘I should probably tell you that King Drosta's a personal friend of mine.' Actually I'd never even met Drosta, but dropping names can be useful.

The guard's face grew slightly apprehensive.

‘I wonder how your king's going to react when I tell him that his border guards are accepting bribes,' I added.

‘You wouldn't actually tell him, would you?'

‘Not if you let me go across the border without any more of this nonsense.'

He sullenly raised the gate and let me pass. I suppose I
could
have paid him, but Rablek and I had worked very hard digging up that gold, so I didn't feel like squandering any of it.

I followed the North Caravan Route eastward, and it took me about a week to reach Yar Nadrak, the capital. Yar Nadrak's a particularly ugly town. It lies at the juncture of the east and west forks of the River Cordu, and the land around it is marshy and dotted with charred snags, since Nadraks habitually clear forests by setting fire to them. I think the thing that makes the capital so unappealing is the fact that just about everything inside the walls is smeared with tar. It keeps wood from decaying, I guess, but it doesn't add much in the way of beauty - or fragrance.

I rode directly to the fur market and asked around for the fur merchant, Gallak. I was directed to a nearby tavern, which is probably the last place I'd have expected to find Polgara. It was a rowdy sort of place with a low ceiling
held up by tar-smeared beams, and as soon as I entered I saw something that
really
surprised me.

Polgara was dancing.

She might not have been
quite
as good as Vella, but she came very close. She was wearing soft leather boots of a Nadrak design, and the hilt of a dagger protruded from the top of each one. Two more daggers were tucked into her belt. She was wearing a rather flimsy dress made of Mallorean silk - blue naturally - and all sorts of interesting things were going on under that dress as she spun on flickering feet through the intricate steps of the dance.

The patrons of the tavern were cheering her on, and I started feeling belligerent. Sometimes it feels as if I've spent eons feeling belligerent when men have started paying too much attention to Polgara. But aren't fathers supposed to feel that way?

Anyway, she concluded her dance with that challenging strut that's the traditional finale of the dance of the Nadrak woman, and the patrons cheered, whistled, and stamped their feet in approval. Then she returned to the table where the man I guessed to be her owner sat basking in reflected glory. He was a lean-faced Nadrak of middle years, and the cut and quality of his garments proclaimed him to be a man of some substance. I noticed that he very carefully kept his hands to himself when Pol sat down. It was fairly clear that she knew how to use those daggers.

I pushed my way through the crowd to his table. ‘That's quite a woman you've got there, friend,' I said to him. ‘Would you care to sell her?' It was a little blunt, but Nadraks tend to get right to the point in these matters.

He looked me up and down. ‘You're a Drasnian, aren't you?' he judged from my clothes.

‘Right,' I replied.

‘I don't think I'd care to sell her to a Drasnian.'

‘Business is business, Gallak,' I told him, ‘and my money's as good as anybody else's.' I hefted the saddle-bags I'd brought.

‘How did you come to know my name?' he asked me.

‘I asked around,' I replied

‘Aren't you a little old to be buying women?'

‘I'm not buying her for myself, Gallak. I want to give Crown Prince Rhodar a special gift when the time comes for him to assume the throne of Drasnia. It never hurts a businessman to have his king obligated to him.'

‘That's very true,' he conceded, ‘but Rhodar's an Alorn. What makes you think he'd be interested in a Nadrak woman?'

‘You don't know Rhodar, I see. He's got a very large appetite - for lots of things.'

‘He might start to lose that appetite after Polanna here cuts out his tripes for getting too familiar. She's
very
quick with her daggers.'

‘Is that her name?'

He nodded. ‘Just for the sake of argument, what would you be willing to offer me for her?'

I reached inside my saddle-bags, took out one of my bars of gold and laid it on the table in front of him.

Polgara'd been watching us rather closely. ‘Absolutely out of the question,' she snapped. ‘You'd need twenty of those to buy me. Tell him to go away, Gallak.'

Gallak, however, was examining the bar rather closely. ‘Don't be in such a rush, Pol,' he told her. ‘This is very good quality. I'd say that it's almost pure.' He squinted at me. ‘How'd you come by this, friend?'

‘I did some prospecting a few years back,' I replied. ‘My partner and I found a stream that was running bank-full of this stuff.'

His eyes grew very bright at that point. ‘I'd like to see that stream,' he said.

‘A lot of people would, but I think I'll just keep its location to myself. Well? Are you going to make a counter-offer?'

‘Polanna just did. Twenty bars.'

‘Five,' I countered.

‘I could go as low as fifteen, I suppose.'

‘Ridiculous!' I retorted. ‘I could buy this whole tavern and everybody in it for fifteen bars. Let's be realistic here, friend. She's only a woman, after all.'

We haggled about it for an hour or so, and Pol's eyes got flintier by the moment. We finally settled on twelve. Then we each spit on our hands, smacked our palms together, and the deal was struck. I stood up. ‘All right, girl,' I said to my daughter, ‘let's go to Drasnia.'

‘I have some things I need to pick up,' she replied, gathering up her share of the gold.

‘Leave them behind.'

‘Not on your life, old man. You bought
me
. You didn't buy my possessions. It's just a short way to Gallak's house. It won't take me long.' She turned and strutted out of the tavern with every eye upon her as she went.

‘Spirited, isn't she?' I noted mildly.

‘Indeed she is,' Gallak agreed. ‘To be honest with you, friend, I'm just as happy to be rid of her. You know your future king better than I do, but you might want to consider some other gift. His gratitude might go downhill after a few weeks with Polanna.'

‘She'll be just fine, Gallak. It's been a pleasure doing business with you.' I picked up my much-lighter saddle-bags and went back out into the street.

Polgara's eyes were steely when she returned. ‘I wasn't particularly amused by your performance in there, old man,' she said. ‘It was
very
insulting.'

‘I thought I pulled it off fairly well. Do you want to give me back my gold?'

‘Oh, no, father. That gold is
mine
now.'

I sighed. ‘All right Pol,' I gave up. ‘If that's the way you feel about it. Let's find a stable. I'll buy you a horse and we can get started.'

After we rode out of Yar Nadrak, Pol and I were able to speak more freely. ‘Did you find the people you were looking for?' I asked her.

‘Of course I did,' she replied. ‘I wouldn't have sent for you if I hadn't.'

‘Who are they?'

‘One of them is Drosta lek Thun himself.'

‘The Nadrak king?'
That
was surprising.

She nodded. ‘Drosta's a very complicated fellow, and he seems bent on getting out from under the thumb of the Grolims. He wants to turn his kingdom into a secular society. He's devious and has no principles whatsoever, but he
does
want what's best for his country.'

‘Who's the other one?'

‘A fellow named Yarblek. He's a descendant of someone you used to know, I believe.'

‘You mean Rablek?'

‘Of course. Nothing ever really happens by chance, father.'