Polgara the Sorceress (32 page)

Since all Arends just adore intrigue, Corrolin fell in with our scheme immediately, and just as immediately devel
oped that furtive, conspiratorial air that half the population of Arendia habitually wears. Mandorin and I left the pair of them polishing the edges of their scheme and went back to the stables for our horses.

Our two pilgrims, actually singing hymns as they rode along, joined us about five miles out from Vo Mimbre, and we all rode on down the river road toward the coast.

We were followed, of course, but that was to be expected. Father took care of it, though, so it didn’t give us any serious problems.

We camped out that night, and rode on through the next day and well into the evening. My father’s not one to leave things to chance, so he’d hidden a boat in the bushes about a mile upriver from the monastery. We picketed our horses and pushed our boat out into the stream.

We reached the far shore about midnight and walked on along the dark, deserted road toward the city of Tol Vordue rising behind the impressive east gate. We were met there by a platoon of legionnaires and immediately escorted through the deserted streets to the ancestral house of the Vordue family. The emperor was waiting for us in the courtyard. He was of middle years and tall for a Tolnedran. He also, I noted, had a distinctly military bearing. ‘All went well, I gather?’ he asked my father.

Father shrugged. ‘No problems,’ he said.

‘Good. I’ve had a place for our meeting prepared. I can guarantee that nobody’s going to get close enough to that room to hear our discussions.’ He looked at Corrolin and Mandorin. ‘Which of these gentlemen is Duke Corrolin?’ he asked.

Father introduced our two Mimbrates, but deliberately glossed over my presence. Then we all trooped inside and climbed an interminable flight of marble stairs to a room at the very top of a tower. It was a stark, businesslike sort of room with a conference table in the center and maps littering its walls.

‘I’ll be brief, your Grace,’ the emperor said to Corrolin after we’d seated ourselves at the table. ‘I’m a plain man with no great skill at diplomatic language. Ancient Belgarath here advises me that you’ve been approached by a man
going by the name Kador who’s told you that he speaks for me. He’s lying to you. I’ve never even heard of the man, and it’s entirely possible that he’s not even Tolnedran.’

Corrolin gaped at him in stunned surprise. ‘But there are legions encamped almost within view of Vo Mimbre!’ he protested.

‘You’d better tell him, Pol,’ father suggested.

‘Forgive me, Ancient One,’ Corrolin floundered, ‘but how would Lady Polina have information concerning Tolnedran legions?’

‘Is there any need to keep playing this game, Pol?’ father asked me.

‘No,’ I replied, ‘I suppose not.’

‘Good. Let’s clear the air, then. Duke Corrolin, I have the honor to present my daughter Polgara.’

Corrolin’s quick glance at Mandorin was slightly accusatory.

‘Baron Mandorin did not lie to you, your Grace,’ I jumped to my friend’s defense. ‘By church law, he
is
, in fact, my uncle. He adopted me in front of a priest of Chaldan before we came to Vo Mimbre. I needed a disguise, so I forced him to do it. It was necessary, so let’s not make an issue of it.’ Then I paused. ‘I’ll put this in very blunt terms, your Grace. There are
not,
in fact, any legions stationed across the river from Vo Mimbre. I went down there and had a look for myself. Count Oldon, who appears to be in Kador’s pocket, has decked out some of his workmen in legion uniforms just for show.’

‘She’s telling you the truth, your Grace,’ Ran Vordue assured him. ‘I have
not
offered an alliance with any faction in Arendia, and I most definitely haven’t stationed any of my legions on your southern frontier. This Kador has duped you.’ Then the emperor looked at me appraisingly. ‘Ancient Belgarath strongly hinted that his daughter here has been running around Arendia putting out fires for the past several weeks now. Maybe we can prevail upon her to give us some details.’

And so I recounted the stories of what had happened in Vo Wacune and Vo Astur for them and revealed what I’d picked up so far in Vo Mimbre. ‘It’s all been a hoax, gentle
men,’ I concluded. ‘Ctuchik’s been trying to foment a war between Arendia and Tolnedra, hoping that His Imperial Majesty would annex Arendia – which would bring the Alorns into the picture. That’s what Ctuchik
really
wants – a war between the Empire and the Alorns. Arendia would have been no more than a pawn in the larger game.’

‘I shall obliterate the villain Kador!’ Corrolin burst out.

‘I’d really rather you didn’t, old boy,’ Ran Vordue told him. ‘Deport him back to Tolnedra instead – along with all his underlings. Let
me
deal with them.’ He smiled faintly. ‘My birthday’s not far off,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you give the lot of them to me as a present?’

‘It shall be my excruciating pleasure to do as thou hast requested, your Imperial Majesty,’ Corrolin agreed. ‘I shall devote mine own attentions to such Mimbrate knights as have fallen in with this Murgo plot. They shall feel my displeasure most keenly.’

‘Stout fellow,’ Ran Vordue murmured. Then he looked at me. ‘How did you find out about all this, Lady Polgara? My sources tell me that you’ve been ensconced in the Vale for the past several centuries.’

‘Our Master brought it to my attention, your Majesty. Evidently he feels that I should spend some more time in the field of practical politics to broaden my horizons.’

‘That brings up an interesting point,’ father said, looking directly at me. ‘The Master put this in
your
hands, Pol, so you’re the one who’s running things this time. What do we do now?’

‘I’ll get you for that, father,’ I threatened him.

‘You mean you’ll
try.
Why don’t you throw something on the table? Then the rest of us can take it apart and tell you why it won’t work.’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘let me see.’ I fished around for something logical. ‘If we look at it in a certain way, Ctuchik’s done us a favor here. There’s been a certain ecumenicism in his plotting. He duped all three dukes with exactly the same ploy, offering each one an alliance with Ran Vordue. Since Asturia, Wacune, and Mimbre were all deceived in the same way, couldn’t we build on that shared experience? Why don’t we just skip the war this time and go directly
to the peace-conference? I’ve got a certain influence with Kathandrion and Mangaran. If Duke Corrolin invites them to a conference at – oh, let’s say the Arendish Fair – I think I’ll be able to persuade them to attend.’

‘She makes sense, Belgarath,’ Ran Vordue sided with me. ‘Have you got any idea of how much it’s costing me to keep fifteen legions in the garrison here in Tol Vordue, just in case the hostilities in Arendia happen to spill over into Tolnedra? I can find better uses for those troops,
and
for the money I’m wasting on them.’

‘I, too, find merit in Lady Polgara’s proposal,’ Mandorin agreed. ‘Endless war doth in time grow tiring. Mayhap, for the sake of novelty, we might try endless peace for a few months.’

‘Cynic,’ my father accused him. Then he stood up. ‘Why don’t we just let my daughter bully all concerned to the peace table at the Great Fair?’ he proposed.

‘Bully?’ I protested.

‘Isn’t that what you’re going to do?’

‘If I have to, yes, but that’s such an ugly word. Couldn’t we call it something a little nicer?’

‘Which word would you prefer?’

‘I’m not sure. I’ll work on it and let you know what I decide.’

‘I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t hold my breath.’

Father rowed us back across the estuary at the mouth of the River Arend shortly before dawn. I’ve noticed any number of times that he’ll do things like that when he decides that he’s the best one available for what would otherwise be a menial task. Both Mandorin and Corrolin were knights, far more at home on horseback than at the oars of a small boat. My father’s not one to take chances. I could probably have done it at least as well as he did, but he evidently didn’t think of that – and I certainly wasn’t going to suggest it.

Dawn was in full flower when we beached our boat, re-saddled our horses, and rode on to the monastery. Corrolin dutifully conferred with the abbot for about a quarter of an hour – although I couldn’t for the life of me understand what they might have talked about. Corrolin was
not
going to war. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was asking the abbot to convey his apologies to Chaldan for not slaughtering his neighbors. When he came out of the monastery, we took the high road that led back to Vo Mimbre. We stopped after a mile or so, though, and I cooked breakfast for us over a roadside campfire – quite a good breakfast, as I recall. My friends all ate too much, naturally, and father, now that he had a full stomach, decided that a little rest might be in order. ‘We
did
stay up all night,’ he reminded us. ‘I can sleep in my saddle, if I really have to, but somebody’s going to have to stay alert enough to steer the horses. Why don’t we catch some sleep and then move on?’

We rode back a ways from the road under the leafy green canopy of the trees, unrolled our blankets, and committed ourselves to sleep. I was just on the verge of dozing off when mother’s voice murmured in my drowsy brain.
‘Very nicely done, Polgara,’
she complimented me.

‘
I rather thought so myself,’
I agreed modestly.

‘
You sound tired.’

‘
I am, rather.’

‘
Why don’t you sleep then?’

And I did, dropping off right between one thought and the next.

We all awoke about mid-afternoon and rode on to a rather shabby little inn, where we spent the night. We arose early the following morning, and we then rode straight on to Vo Mimbre.

Duke Corrolin had been mightily provoked by what his meeting with Ran Vordue had revealed, and he moved quickly, issuing orders, but no explanations. Then he invited the entire court into the throne-room where armored knights stood guard along the walls. To everyone’s surprise – even mine – the duke entered the throne-room in full armor and carrying a huge two-handed broadsword. He did
not
sit down on his throne. ‘My Lords and Ladies,’ he began, speaking with unusual crispness for a Mimbrate Arend. ‘I have but recently returned from Tol Vordue, where the emperor of Tolnedra and I did confer at some length. The outcome of that conference was a happy one. Rejoice, my loyal subjects. There will be no war.’

That got a mixed reaction, Arends being what they are and all.

Corrolin, his face bleak, smashed his mailed fist down on the back of his throne. ‘Be not dismayed, my Lords and Ladies,’ he boomed. “There will be other entertainments. An extensive conspiracy hath of late befouled the air – not only here in Mimbre, but in Asturia and Wacune as well. It is my firm intention to cleanse the air here. Seize them!’ This last command was issued to Mandorin and the two-score knights under his command, and Mandorin was quick to carry it out – so quick in fact that there were hardly any casualties. A dozen or so Tolnedrans, both genuine and spurious, were clapped in irons, and several Mimbrate nobles were treated in the same way.

The Grolim who’d been posing as a servant in Kador’s entourage ducked under the arm of the knight who was in the middle of enfolding him in a steely embrace and darted for the door, gathering his Will as he ran. My father, however, was ready for him. Still garbed in that burlap monk’s robe, the Old Wolf delivered a crashing blow to the side of the Grolim’s head with his fist, and the priest of the Dragon-God fell senseless to the floor. Father, I noticed, had judiciously enveloped his right fist in lead, and his blow would have felled an ox. ‘Holy Belgarath’ has a colorful background, and I’ve noticed over the years that he’ll resort to the tactics of tavern brawling almost as quickly as he’ll fall back on sorcery.

The prisoners were all dragged from the room, and then Duke Corrolin described in somewhat tedious detail the Murgo plot which had come to within inches of succeeding. Then, while all the court was still in shock, he told them of the peace-conference that was already in the works.
That
caused a certain amount of grumbling, but the Duke of Mimbre ran roughshod over the protests. When you put an Arend in full armor, you can’t really expect a velvet touch.

I decided to let father take the credit for my little countercoup in Vo Mimbre. I’m more interested in results than I am in credit, but my father absolutely adores being the center of attention, so I let him bask – or wallow – in public
adulation while I went on back to the northern duchies to hammer down the loose ends of my peace-conference.

Duke Kathandrion of Wacune and Earl Mangaran of Asturia had already met a few times, and Countess Asrana, her wicked eyes sparkling, assured me that they seemed to be getting along fairly well. ‘They’re as thick as thieves, Polly,’ she said with a little smirk. ‘That Kathandrion’s absolutely gorgeous, isn’t he?’

‘Never mind, Asrana,’ I told her. ‘Try to keep your predatory instincts under control. What condition’s Oldoran in?’

‘I don’t know about his liver, but his mind’s definitely gone. He’s seeing things that aren’t really there, and he’s raving most of the time. His family’s very upset about that. He’s got some nephews that were eyeing his throne with a great deal of interest, but I don’t think the title’s going to stay in the family. Mangaran’s been demonstrating his capabilities at every turn, and I don’t think any of Oldoran’s nephews are really qualified to replace him. When are we going to convene the peace-conference?’

‘Which peace-conference was that, dear?’

‘The one you’ve been working on ever since you came to Arendia. Don’t be coy, Polly. I know what you’re up to – and I approve of it. Wars are all very stirring for the men, I suppose, but the lives of the ladies here and in Vo Wacune and Vo Mimbre are very tedious when all the pretty young men are out playing in the woods. Now then, what can I do to help?’

Our impromptu peace-conference was to be held, as I’d suggested, at the Greàt Arendish Fair, which is technically in Mimbrate territory. This automatically made Corrolin the host. To be quite honest about it, I’d have been happier with Kathandrion at the head of the table, but you can’t always have things the way you’d like them. I’d have Baron Mandorin sitting at Corrolin’s elbow anyway, and I was sure he could keep his duke from making
too
many mistakes. I left Vo Astur and went on across the border into Wacune. I wanted to talk with Kathandrion before our conference convened.