Polgara the Sorceress (85 page)

When the wedding day finally arrived, I was exhausted. If I could just survive this one day, I was definitely going to give myself a vacation. I felt that if I heard, ‘But, Olane, dear–’ or ‘But, Alara, sweetie–’ one more time, I’d just scream.

The ceremony, since there were two priests in contention, dragged on for two hours, and the wedding guests, who
were
really
looking forward to the post-ceremonial festivities, grew restive.

Ildera was stunningly beautiful, and Geran so handsome that the village girls of Annath were almost audibly gnashing their teeth over the fact that they’d let him get away.

I largely ignored the wedding sermons, but I
did
choke just a bit when the Sendarian priest invoked the blessing of Torak on the marriage. This was most definitely the wrong wedding for that.

Then the ceremony was finally over, and Geran and Ildera were man and wife. They endured the wedding supper, obviously impatient to go to the neat stone cottage Geran and his father had built at the south end of Annath’s single street. They definitely had plans for the evening. Father, Darral, and Grettan kept the peace during the supper, but that was about as far as the pacification went. We all trooped down that long street, accompanying the happy couple home, and then I went back to Darral’s house and fell into bed. I was absolutely exhausted.

The citizens of Annath and the Algar clansmen were all very civilized, of course, so the fights didn’t start until after the sun went down.

I spoke with father the next morning, and he entertained me with a humorous description of the post-wedding festivities. I always take father’s accounts of such events with a large grain of salt, since father has a deep-seated need for artful embellishment.

‘Broke the priest’s
jaw?’
I exclaimed at one point.

‘As neatly as you’d snap a twig,’ father smirked. ‘Caught him right on the point of the chin with his fist. Of course, the priest wasn’t expecting it. Over in Algaria, people don’t hit the priests of Belar. He won’t be giving any of those long-winded sermons of his for a while – at least not until his jaw heals. Then, just after that, Knapp the tavern keeper was trying to get everybody to take the fight outside, and some rascal bonked him on top of the head with a stool.’

‘Bonked?’

‘That’s the sound it made, Pol – “Bonk!” Just like that. Knapp went down like a poled ox, and the revelers continued to break up his tavern.’

I sighed.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I was looking forward to a day of rest. I guess I’d better go tend the injured.’

‘They’ll heal, Pol. It was a friendly fight. Nobody even thought about drawing a dagger.’

‘Broken bones need to be set, father.’

‘You can’t fix everything, Pol.’

‘Who came up with
that
rule? What are your plans?’

‘I think I’ll go back to the Vale. Chamdar’s in Tolnedra right now, but I’m sure he’s got Grolims and Dagashi snooping around in Sendaria. I don’t want to attract attention to this place, and I
am
fairly recognizable.’

‘Wise decision. Give my best to the twins.’

‘I’ll do that.’

I spent the rest of the morning tending to the assorted cuts, bruises, abrasions, and broken bones, and then I went on down to visit the newly-weds. They were polite, of course, but I got the distinct impression that they had plans for the rest of the day so I trudged on home and went back to bed.

In the days that followed Alara rearranged the events of the wedding day in her own mind so that it became a day of absolute triumph for her. Oh, well, it didn’t hurt anything, and if it made her happy –

The location of Geran’s cottage down at the south end of town was slightly inconvenient, but that might have had something to do with his selection of the site. His mother was a bit possessive about him and more than just a bit domineering. We all loved her, of course, but she had a tendency to be just a bit erratic. I probably should have paid closer attention to that.

There was a world out there beyond the last house in Annath, however, and it kept moving along, whether we noticed it or not.

It was at about the same time as the wedding that Taur Urgas came up with his insane scheme to assassinate emperor Zakath of Mallorea. The scheme involved Zakath’s beloved, and she was among the casualties when everything fell apart. After that, Zakath became obsessed with the idea of exterminating the Murgo race – a commendable goal, I suppose, but it
did
sort of get in the way when more important things were going on. Taur Urgas was every bit as crazy as Drosta had said he was, and Zakath wasn’t much better. Cho-Ram of Algaria later cured the insanity of Taur Urgas, and Cyradis, the Seeress of Kell, cured Zakath’s. They used entirely different methods, however.

I don’t think I’d fully realized just how much my isolation in Annath had kept me out of touch with current affairs until father stopped by in the spring of 5349 and told me of the dissension among the Angaraks. There’s a kind of charm about rustic life, but the entire world could end, and it’d take several years for the news to reach a place like Annath.

Then, in the autumn of that same year, tragedy struck
my little family. It was an ordinary autumn day with a chill in the air and with the leaves of birch and aspen a riot of bright colors. As usual, Darral and Geran went to work in the stone quarry. Then, just before lunch, the south face of the quarry quite suddenly broke away and fell to the floor of the pit, crushing my nephew, Darral.

Accidents happen all the time, and a stone quarry’s not the safest place in the world to work, but as it turned out, the death of Darral was no accident. It was the first hint we had that Chamdar – or Asharak the Murgo, whichever you prefer – had found us at last.

My grief at Darral’s death almost incapacitated me. Father made it to Annath in time for the funeral, but I almost completely ignored him. I was in no mood for platitudes. I stayed in my room for two weeks, and when I finally came out, father was gone. Alara moved woodenly about her kitchen, but I didn’t really pay much attention. I started taking my meals in my room, since I didn’t want to talk to
anybody,
much less those who shared my grief.

When I finally
did
come out, I discovered that Alara had gone strange on me. I was confident that I could take care of it, but that was a mistake. No physician should
ever
treat the illnesses of her own family, since objectivity is essential in the practice of medicine, and who can be objective about her own family? I delayed, and by the time I got around to my diagnosis, it was too late. Of course, it may have been too late right at the outset, since Alara’s madness had an outside source.

‘Whatever is the matter, Pol?’ she asked me one afternoon a week or so after I’d come out of my seclusion. She’d found me with tears in my eyes and her tone was concerned. ‘Did you hurt yourself ?’ She sounded only mildly interested and a little vague.

I looked at her sharply. Her face was placid, and that should have alerted me right then and there.

‘Come along now, dear,’ she said in a comforting sort of way. ‘Pull yourself together. It’s time for us to start fixing
supper. Darral will be coming home from work soon, and he’ll be hungry.’

That jerked me back to reality almost immediately. I’d seen this delusion in others after a death in the family. Sometimes the human mind does strange things to protect itself. If something’s just too horrible to contemplate, the mind will refuse to contemplate it. In Alara’s mind, Darral was still alive, and he’d be coming home for supper before long.

There are two ways to deal with this not uncommon condition. My own emotional turmoil caused me to choose the wrong one. ‘Have you forgotten, Alara?’ I said mildly. ‘Darral had to go on a business trip. He wants to see if he can find more bidders for our yearly production of stone block.’

‘Why didn’t he tell me?’ She sounded a little hurt.

I reverted to subterfuge at that point. I smacked my forehead with my palm. ‘It’s my fault, Alara,’ I lied. ‘He came home this morning – while you were visiting with Ildera. He told me that there were some builders in Erat he wanted to talk with and that he’d be gone for a few weeks. There were some wagoners who were going in that direction, and one of them had offered him a ride. He had to leave immediately. One of our neighbor ladies fell ill, and I was so busy with her that I forgot to tell you that Darral was away on business. I’m very sorry, Alara.’

‘Oh, that’s all right, Pol,’ she forgave me. Then her face brightened. ‘Here’s a thought. Now that Darral won’t be underfoot for a while, we’ll be able to concentrate on our autumn house-cleaning. We’ll have everything all bright and shiny when he comes home.’

I knew right then that I’d made a mistake, but it was too late now to correct it. The ‘business trip’ would only reinforce Alara’s delusion and make it that much harder to cure in the long run. ‘Why don’t you fix us a light supper, dear?’ I suggested. ‘I have to go tell Ildera something.’

‘All right, Pol. Don’t be too long now.’

I hurried on down to the far end of Annath to the somewhat blocky cottage Geran had built for him and his bride. Geran was a conscientious builder who wanted the things
he constructed to last, so there were hints of ‘fortress’ about his cottage. I knocked at the stout door.

Ildera, blonde and lovely, opened it. ‘Aunt Pol,’ she greeted me. I glanced around quickly to make sure she was alone. ‘Is there something the matter?’ she asked.

‘We’ve got a problem, Ildera,’ I told her.

‘Oh?’

‘Alara’s mind has slipped.’

‘Dear Gods!’

‘If s not dangerous – yet: She’s not raving or anything, but she’s erased the memory of Darral’s death from her mind. This afternoon she told me that she was expecting him home for supper.’

‘Oh, Aunt Pol!’ Ildera’s eyes had gone wide. ‘What can we do?’

‘We lie to her, Ildera. I conjured up a story about a business trip on the spur of the moment – just to get her past suppertime – and now we’re stuck with it, I’m afraid. Tell Geran about it when he comes home. We’ll all have to tell Alara the same story. I said that Darral caught a ride with some wagoners and that he’s going to Erat to drum up some more business. I came here to make sure that we’d all be telling her the same story.’

‘We’re going to
have
to tell her the truth eventually, Aunt Pol.’

‘I’m not so sure about that, Ildera. Darral’s business trip might have to be protracted.’

‘Can’t you – ?’ Ildera made a vaguely mysterious gesture intended to suggest sorcery. The knowledge that I was ‘talented’ had been a part of Ildera’s indoctrination in our little family, and as is usually the case, she grossly overestimated the kinds of things I could do with that talent.

‘I don’t think so, Ildera. The mind’s a very complicated piece of machinery. If you fix one part of it, you might damage another part beyond repair. I love Alara too much to start experimenting on her. There are some combinations of herbs that’ll keep her calm and happy. I’ll rely on those until I can come up with a safe alternative.’

‘Whatever you think best, Aunt Pol.’ Ildera laughed a bit ruefully. ‘The Gods know that I wouldn’t be very good at
it. I can’t even dig a splinter out of my own finger.’ Then her expression grew serious. ‘You
do
realize that this means that we’ll have to isolate her from the rest of the village, don’t you? One wrong word could destroy her sanity for good.’

‘I’ll work on that,’ I promised her. Tell Geran about this, and tell him that
I’ll
take care of it. I don’t want him sticking his nose into it. That wrong word you mentioned could come from him just as easily as from some village gossip.’

‘I don’t think he’ll cause you any problems there, Aunt Pol. He’s so busy examining every inch of the south face of the quarry for the flaw that caused that rock-slide that he can’t even think about anything else.’

‘As long as it keeps him out of the way. Oh, my father sent word that he’ll be visiting us again soon. If he stops here before he comes on up to our house, tell him about Alara’s condition and how we’re dealing with it. Warn him that I’ll rip out his beard if he interferes.’

‘Aunt Poll’

‘Well, part of it, anyway. I’d better get on back home. One of us is going to have to stay with Alara almost constantly from now on.’

Father arrived two days later, but I didn’t want to talk with him in front of Alara. ‘Get out of here, father!’ I ordered. ‘I’m busy. Go talk with Geran and Ildera. They’ll tell you what’s happening.’ I pointed at the door. ‘Out!’ I commanded.

Father, of course, totally misunderstood. He assumed that my outburst was the result of my ongoing grief, and he was wrong. I had something much more important to deal with.

Later that day I sent for Ildera, and she sat with her mother-in-law while I took father out to the edge of the forest so that we could talk.

‘She’s completely insane?’ Father sighed when I told him about Alara’s condition.

‘I didn’t say that, Old Wolf. All I said was that she’s blocked out the fact that she’s a widow.’

‘That sounds fairly insane to me, Pol.’

‘You really don’t know what you’re talking about, father.
Insanity’s rarely total. Alara’s illness is limited to one fact. Aside from that, she’s perfectly all right.’

‘Your definition of “all right” is worlds apart from mine, Pol. How long do you plan to let this go on?’

‘As long as it takes, father. I won’t destroy Alara just to satisfy some picky little concept of reality. She’s a bit lonesome for her husband, but that’s as far as her misery goes. I’ll keep her happy for the rest of her life, if I have to.’

He shrugged. ‘You’re the expert, Pol.’

‘I’m glad you noticed that. What are you up to at the moment?’

‘I’m marking time, Pol, just like everybody else. The whole universe is holding its breath waiting for Ildera to start to bulge.’

“That’s a crude way to put it.’

‘I’m a crude sort of fellow.’

‘You know, I’ve noticed that myself.’

After father went back to the Vale, Ildera and I let it be generally known in Annath that Alara was ‘under the weather’ and needed absolute peace and quiet – ‘her recent bereavement, you understand’. The ladies of Annath all nodded sagely, pretending to understand, and so there weren’t any visitors to our house on the north end of town. We made sure that Alara never left the house unaccompanied, and Geran’s new wife demonstrated a surprising agility at changing the subject whenever someone encountered her and her mother-in-law in the village streets. She could cut off the word ‘condolences’ almost before it left anyone’s lips. Protecting Alara’s tenuous grip on sanity became our major occupation, and we grew better and better at it. Ildera, however, had another job to see to, and I occasionally fretted about her failure to get on with it. She continued to aid me in caring for Alara, and her waistline stayed trim and girlish.

In 5351, Javelin paid father a visit in the Vale to report that Asharak the Murgo had vanished, despite the best efforts of Drasnian intelligence to keep him under surveillance. As it turned out, of course, Asharak had evaded those who’d been assigned the job of following him at least once already. He’d come to the vicinity of Annath not too long
after the wedding of Geran and Ildera to tamper with the geology of the south face of the stone quarry.

Father immediately went to Tol Honeth and virtually disassembled the city trying to find traces of Chamdar, and when that failed, he expanded his search to the rest of Tolnedra. That futile search kept him very busy for the next couple of years.