Belgarath the Sorcerer (70 page)

‘I couldn't say. When's the last time it rained around here?'

‘This is a desert, Beldin. It can go for years without raining here.'

‘So? I've always felt that too much bathing weakens you. Go on home, Belgarath. I'm trying to work something out.'

‘Oh? What's that?'

‘I'm trying to distinguish the difference between “right” and “good”.'

‘Why?'

He shrugged. ‘I'm interested, that's all. It keeps my mind occupied while I'm waiting for my next bath. Go find Zedar, Belgarath, and quit pestering me. I'm busy.'

To be quite honest about it, though, I wasn't particularly interested in Zedar's location. Torak's condition made Zedar largely irrelevant. I circulated around in the kingdoms of the west instead, looking in on those families I'd
been nurturing for all these centuries. Lelldorin's family was at Wildantor, and they were deeply involved in various crackpot schemes against the Mimbrates. The baron of Vo Mandor, Mandorallen's grandfather, was busy picking fights with his neighbors, usually on spurious grounds. Hettar's clan was raising horses, preparing, although they didn't realize it, for the coming of the Horse-Lord. Durnik's grandfather was a village blacksmith, and Relg's was a religious fanatic who spent most of this time admiring his own purity. I had no idea of where Taiba's family was, and I lost a lot of sleep about that. I knew that her family was
someplace
in the world, but I'd completely lost track of them after the Tolnedran invasion of Maragor.

I stopped by Tol Honeth before I went north to visit Drasnia and Cherek. I always like to keep an eye on the Borunes. The man on the throne at that time was Ran Borune XXI, who, as it turned out, was Ce'Nedra's great-grandfather. I've mentioned the tendency of Tolnedrans to marry their cousins several times in the past, I think, and Ran Borune XXI was no exception. The Dryad strain in the Borune family always breeds true in female children, and the men of the family are absolutely captivated by Dryads. I think it's in their blood.

Anyway, Ce'Nedra's great-grandfather was forty or so when I stopped by the palace, and his wife, Ce'Lanne, had flaming red hair and a disposition to match. She made the emperor's life very exciting, I understand.

Tolnedrans were still keeping alive the fiction that my name was some obscure Alorn title, and the scholars of history at the university had concocted a wild theory about a ‘Brotherhood of Sorcerers' out of whole cloth. Some chance remark by Beldin or one of the twins had probably given rise to that, and the creative historians expanded on it. We were supposed to be some sort of religious order, I guess. One imaginative pedant even went so far as to suggest that the enmity between my brothers and me and
Torak's disciples was the result of a schism within the order at some time in the distant past.

I never bothered to correct all those wild misconceptions because they helped me to gain access to whichever Borune or Honethite or Vorduvian currently held the throne, and that saved a lot of time.

It was winter when I reached Tol Honeth and presented myself at the palace. Winters are not particularly severe in Tol Honeth, so at least I hadn't been obliged to plow through snowdrifts on my way to the imperial presence.

‘And so you're Ancient Belgarath,' Ran Borune said when I was presented to him.

‘That's what they tell me, your Majesty,' I replied.

‘I've always wondered about that title,' he said. Like all the Borunes, he was a small man, and his massive throne made him look just a bit ridiculous. ‘Tell me, Ancient One, is the title “Belgarath” hereditary, or were you and your predecessors chosen by lot or the auguries?'

‘Hereditary, your Majesty,' I replied. Well, it was
sort
of true, I guess, depending on how you define the word ‘hereditary.'

‘How disappointing,' he murmured. ‘It'd be much more interesting if all those Belgaraths had been identified by some sign from on high. I gather that you've come to bring me some important news?'

‘No, your Majesty, not really. I happened to be in the vicinity, and I thought I might as well stop by and introduce myself.'

‘How very courteous of you. One of my ancestors knew one of yours, I'm told - back during the war with the Angaraks.'

‘So I understand, yes.'

He leaned back on that red-draped throne. ‘Those must have been the days,' he said. ‘Peace is all right, I guess, but wars are much more exciting.'

‘They're greatly overrated,' I told him. ‘When you're at war, you spend most of your time either walking or sitting
around waiting for something to happen. Believe me, Ran Borune, there are better ways to spend your time.'

Then his wife burst into the throne room. ‘What
is
this idiocy?' she demanded in a voice they could probably have heard in Tol Vordue.

‘Which particular idiocy was that, dear heart?' he asked quite calmly.

‘You're
surely
not going to send my daughter to the Isle of the Winds in the dead of winter!'

‘It's not
my
fault that her birthday comes in the winter time, Ce'Lanne.'

‘It's as much your fault as it is mine!'

He coughed, looking slightly embarrassed.

‘The Rivans can wait until summer!' she stormed on.

‘The treaty states that she has to be there on her sixteenth birthday, love, and Tolnedrans
don't
violate treaties.'

‘Nonsense! You cut corners on treaties all the time!'

‘Not
this
one. The world's peaceful right now, and I'd like to keep it that way. Tell Ce'Bronne to start packing. Oh, by the way, this is Ancient Belgarath.'

She flicked only one brief glance at me. ‘Charmed,' she said shortly. Then she continued her tirade, citing all sorts of reasons why it was totally impossible for her daughter, Princess Ce'Bronne, to make the trip to Riva.

I decided to step in at that point. I knew that Princess Ce'Bronne wasn't the one we were waiting for, but I didn't want the Borunes getting into the habit of ignoring one of the key provisions of the Accords of Vo Mimbre. ‘I'm going to Riva myself, your Imperial Highness,' I told Ran Borune's flaming little wife. ‘I'll escort your daughter personally, if you'd like. I can guarantee her safety and make sure that she's treated with respect.'

‘How very generous of you, Belgarath,' Ran Borune stepped in quickly. ‘There you have it, Ce'Lanne. Our daughter will be in good hands. The Alorns have enormous respect for Ancient Belgarath here. I'll make all the arrangements personally.' He was
very
smooth, I'll give him that.
He'd lived with his empress long enough to know how to get around her.

And so I escorted her imperial little highness, Princess Ce'Bronne, to the Isle of the Winds for her ritual presentation in the Hall of the Rivan King as the Accords of Vo Mimbre required. Ce'Bronne was as fiery as her mother and as devious as her grand-niece. What she couldn't get by screaming, she usually got by wheedling. I rather liked her. She sulked for the first few days on board the ship that carried us north, and I finally got tired of it. ‘What
is
your problem, young lady?' I demanded at breakfast on our fourth day out from Tol Honeth.

‘I
don't
want to marry an Alorn!'

‘Don't worry about it,' I told her. ‘You won't have to.'

‘How can you be so sure?'

‘The Rivan King hasn't arrived yet. He won't be along for quite some time.'

‘
Any
Alorn can show up at Riva and claim to be Iron-grip's descendant. I could be forced to marry a commoner.'

‘No, dear,' I told her. ‘In the first place, no Alorn would do that, and in the second, an imposter couldn't pass the test.'

‘What test?'

‘The
true
Rivan King's the only one who can take Iron-grip's sword down off the wall in the throne room. An imposter couldn't get it off the stones with a sledgehammer. The Orb will see to that.'

‘Have you ever seen this mysterious jewel?'

‘Many times, dear. Trust me. You're not going to be forced to marry an Alorn.'

‘Because I'm not good enough?' she flared. She could change direction in the blink of an eye.

‘That has nothing to do with it, Ce'Bronne,' I told her. ‘It's just not time yet. Too many other things have to happen first.'

Her eyes narrowed, and I'm sure she was trying to find some insult in what I'd just told her. ‘Well,' she said finally
in a somewhat ungracious manner, ‘all right - I guess. But I'm going to hold you to your word on this, old man.'

‘I wouldn't have it any other way, Princess.'

And so I got the Imperial Princess Ce'Bronne to Riva on time, and the Alorn ladies in the citadel pampered and flattered her into some semblance of gracious behavior. She made her obligatory appearance in the throne room and waited the required three days, and then I took her home again.

‘There now,' I said to her as we disembarked on one of the marble wharves at Tol Honeth, ‘that wasn't so bad, was it?'

‘Well,' she replied, ‘I
guess
not.' Then she laughed a silvery laugh, threw her tiny arms around my neck, and kissed me soundly.

I waited around Tol Honeth until spring arrived, and then I commandeered a Cherek war-boat to take me north. I went to Trellheim to look in on Barak's grandfather, who was every bit as big and red-bearded as the ‘Dreadful Bear' turned out to be, and quite nearly as intelligent. Everything seemed in order at Trellheim, so I went on to the village where Polgara was watching over the family of Garion's great-grandfather, another one of those Gerans. Pol likes to slip that name in about every other generation. I think it has something to do with her sense of continuity. This particular Geran had just married a blonde Cherek girl, and things seemed to be going along the way they were supposed to.

After we'd done all the usual things people do at family reunions, I finally got the chance to talk privately with my daughter. ‘I think we're going to have some problems with the Dryad princess when the time comes,' I warned her.

‘Oh? What sort of problems?'

‘They're not particularly docile. We've been marrying all these young men to Alorn girls, and Alorn women are fairly placid. The Dryads in the Borune family are anything
but
placid. They're willful, spoiled, and very devious.' I told
her about Princess Ce'Bronne and our trip to Riva.

‘I'll take care of it, father,' she assured me.

‘I'm sure you will, Pol, but I thought I ought to warn you. I think you're going to find the Rivan Queen quite a handful. Don't
ever
make the mistake of believing anything she tells you.'

‘I can handle her when the time comes, father. Where are you going from here?'

‘Drasnia. I want to look in on the family of the “Guide”.'

‘Are we getting at all close to the time?'

‘The twins think we are. They're starting to see some of the signs and omens. They seem to think that what we've been waiting for is going to happen in the next century or so.'

‘Then I'll be out of a job, won't I?'

‘Oh, I think we'll be able to find
something
for you to do, Pol.'

‘Thanks awfully, old man. If we're getting that close, I'd better think about re-locating to Sendaria, shouldn't I?' She looked directly at me. ‘I can read the Darine and the Mrin as well as you can, father,' she told me. ‘I know where the Godslayer's supposed to be born.'

‘I guess we'd better start thinking about it,' I agreed. ‘After I'm finished in Drasnia, I'll go back to the Vale and talk with the twins. Maybe they've picked up something more definite. This
wouldn't
be a good time to start making mistakes.'

‘When are you leaving for Drasnia?'

‘Tomorrow ought to be soon enough. Do you suppose you could make one of those cherry tarts for breakfast, Pol? I haven't had one of your cherry tarts for over a century now, and I've
really
missed them.'

She gave me a long, steady look.

‘Yours are the very best, Pol,' I said without even smiling. ‘There's an idea for you. After we get the Godslayer on his throne, you could open a pastry shop.'

‘Have you lost your mind?'

‘You said you were going to be looking for a job, Pol. I'm just making a few suggestions, is all.'

She even had the grace to laugh.

The next morning, I left for Drasnia. Silk's grandfather was in the import business, dealing mainly in spices, and working for Drasnian intelligence on the side. There's nothing very unusual about that, though.
All
Drasnian merchants work for Drasnian intelligence on the side. Once again, everything was on schedule, so I went on back to the Vale.

I was a bit surprised to find that the twins weren't around when I got home. They'd left a rather cryptic note for me - something about an urgent summons from Polgara. I tried to reach out to them with my mind, but for some reason I couldn't get them to answer. I swore a little bit, and then I turned around to go back to Cherek. I was starting to get just a little tired of all this traveling.

It was late in the summer when I reached Val Alorn again, and I went on out to the village where Pol lived with her little family. She wasn't there, however. The twins were minding things instead. They were just a bit evasive when I asked them where she was. ‘She asked us not to tell you, Belgarath,' Beltira said with a slightly pained expression.

‘And I'm asking you to ignore her,' I told him flatly. ‘All right, you two, give. I don't have time to tear the world apart looking for her. Where'd she go?'