And Gorim of Ulgo looked long at the Aged Man and knew him and spake, saying, ‘Thou knowest, Immortal One, that Torak is overthrown, but is not slain.’
‘Yes,’ quoth the Aged One.
‘And thou wouldst fulfill the prophecy?’ quoth the Gorim.
‘It must be,’ quoth the Aged One. ‘If we bring not the prophecies into fruition through our own efforts, then will they come to pass in our despite and oftentimes in strange and unseemly ways. The outcome of the great battle is still in doubt, and I would do all that might be done to aid the Champion of the West. If he be not victorious—if he be slain—foul Torak will overcome the world and master it, and all men will be his slaves.’
And the Gorim of Ulgo spake, saying, ‘The prophecy is old, and its meaning may have been clouded by the falling of so many dusty years upon it. Art thou certain, Immortal One, that it hath not been twisted by some events of the distant past?’
And the Aged One spake, saying, ‘The auguries still hold true. The prophecy is intact. He will rise and will seek out his throne, and a great princess shall be his to wife. And at his coming shall Torak shake off his sleep and come again against the West. And the two shall meet and struggle, and one shall be slain and the other shall be Overlord of all the World.’ And he turned unto the Alorn Kings and spake, saying, ‘This was not well done, Eldrig of Cherek. He who would twist a prophecy for his own ends casts his impiety into the teeth of the Gods. The final battle is not yet come, and Torak is not slain.’
And Eldrig was wroth and rose up as he would smite the Aged One, but the scales fell from his eyes, and he knew the one before him, and he trembled before him, and spake, saying, ‘Forgive me, Ancient One, beloved of Aldur and companion of Belar, that I did offend the Gods and thee. I wished only to live in the days of the fulfillment of the prophecy.’
And the Gorim of Ulgo spake, saying, ‘Great King of timeless Cherek, the prophecy will be fulfilled. Not in thy time nor in mine, however, shall it come to fruition. But the day will come when the King of the West shall ascend his throne, and the last battle shall be fought, and the fate of the world shall hinge upon that coming and that battle. What we have seen here is prelude. In the fullness of time shall the battle be joined, and we must be content that our part in this is needful and the world is better for our having done what we have done.’ And turned he unto the Aged One whose eyes were ever in shadow and spake again, saying, ‘And wilt thou abide his coming?’
And the Aged One answered, saying, ‘Yea, I will abide— even if it be unto the end of days.’
And the Gorim spake, saying, ‘UL is with thee, even as Aldur and Belar. His blessing is upon thee, most Ancient of Men.’ And then rose he and spake in a great voice that all assembled might hear, saying, ‘Here is promised the Princess of Tolnedra to be wife unto the King of Riva who will be the savior of the world. This is the will of UL and of Aldur and of Belar and of the other Gods also. Let no man gainsay the voices of the Gods, lest the Gods in their wrath rise up and destroy him and all his race.’
And Mergon, ambassador of Imperial Tolnedra, was distressed, and rose he and spake, saying, ‘But all the world knows that the Hall of the Rivan King is empty and desolate. No King sits on the Rivan Throne. How may a Princess of Imperial Tolnedra be wed unto a phantom?’
And then spake the woman who was ever at the side of the Ancient One who counseled Brand, saying, ‘From this day forward upon her sixteenth birthday shall each Princess of Imperial Tolnedra present herself in the Hall of the Rivan King. In her wedding gown shall she be clad, and three days shall she abide there against the coming of the King. And if he come not to claim her, shall she be free to go wheresoever her father, the Emperor, shall decree, for she shall not be the favored one.’
And Mergon spake, saying, ‘All Tolnedra shall rise against such an indignity. It may not be.’
And the woman answered, saying, ‘In the day that Tolnedra fails in this shall the West rise up against her, and we will scatter the Sons of Nedra to the winds and pull down thy cities and lay waste thy fields and thy villages. And the people of Nedra shall be as the people of Mara, who are no more. And, like Mara, shall Nedra weep alone in the wilderness that his people are no more.’
And the Kings of Aloria rose, and Eldrig spake, saying, ‘To this, pledge I Cherek.’ And Cho-Ram said, ‘To this, pledge I Algaria.’ And Rhodar said, ‘To this, pledge I Drasnia.’ And Ormik said, ‘To this, pledge I Sendaria.’ And the Gorim spake, saying, ‘I also pledge Holy Ulgo to this. Tell thine Emperor that in the day that he or his line fails in this, in that day shall Tolnedra surely perish.’
And then spake Podiss, emissary of Nyissa, saying. ‘And what of my Queen, Eternal Salmissra? What voice hath she in thine ordering of the world?’
Then rose the woman and cast off her cloak. Queenly was her bearing, and her brow was touched as with frost, and she raised up her hands, and behold, the garments of Podiss fell inward as it were the man within had dissolved as snows before the breath of spring. And a serpent emerged therefrom. And the form of the woman became cloudy and indistinct, and there emerged from the mist which surrounded her a great snowy owl, and she did grasp the serpent in her talons and did bear him aloft into the heavens.72
And in the space of a little time did she return, and the woman resumed her proper form and Podiss also. And trembling was he and ashen-faced.
And the woman spake, saying, ‘Inform the snake woman in Sthiss Tor what hath befallen thee. Tell her what an easy thing it is for the owl to destroy the serpent. Fail not in this, lest I seek thee out and bear thee again into the sky and dash thee down upon the earth beneath. In the day that Eternal Salmissra raises her hand once more against the Rivan King shall I plunge my talons into her heart and destroy her utterly.’
And the Kings and Emissaries were amazed at the enchantment they had beheld and looked upon the woman in fear and in wonder, knowing that she was a Sorceress.
And spake the Gorim of Ulgo, saying, ‘These then are the accords which we have reached here upon the field at Vo Mimbre: The nations of the West will prepare themselves against the return of the Rivan King, for in the day of his return shall Torak awaken and come again upon us, and none but the Rivan King may overcome him and save us from his foul enslavement. And whatsoever the Rivan King commands, that shall we do. And swear we all fealty here unto the King that shall return. And he shall have an Imperial Princess of Tolnedra to wife and have Empire and Dominion in the West. And whosoever breaketh these accords, will we do war upon him and scatter his people and pull down his cities and lay waste his lands. We pledge it here in honor of Brand, who hath overthrown Torak and bound him in sleep until the One comes who might destroy him. So be it.’
And it was done as the Gorim had said, and all agreed to it and were bound by it.
And in the fullness of time prepared the armies of the West to depart and to return each unto their own kingdom. And before he left called Brand to have the Prince of Mimbre and the Duchess of Asturia brought before him again, and it was done.
And Brand spake, saying, ‘I have a mind to see thee wed before I depart. What sayest thou to this?’
And Korodullin of Mimbre spake, saying, ‘I am content, for my fair fellow-prisoner hath won my heart, and I will wed none other.’
‘And what of thou?’ quoth Brand unto Mayaserana, Duchess of Asturia. ‘Wilt thou still seek river or rope, knife, or spear to separate thee from thy life that thou mayest avoid thy wedding?’
And she answered, saying, ‘Forgive the folly of my childish speech, great Brand. I am a woman now and gladly will I wed noble Korodullin that the wounds of Noble Arendia be healed. And in truth would I wed him even were Arendia not wounded.’
And Brand smiled and caused a great wedding to be prepared, and the people of Arendia rejoiced in the marriage of Korodullin and Mayaserana.
And one last time spake Brand unto the Kings and nobles before he returned to Riva, saying, ‘Behold, here has much been wrought that is
good. Boundless Mallorea and fell Angarak have been overthrown, and Evil Torak is quelled. His dark presence moves no more in the world. The covenant we have struck between us here prepares the West for the day in which the Rivan King returns and Torak wakes from his long slumber to contest with him for Empire and Dominion. All that may be done in this age to gird the West against that great and final war hath been done. And here have the wounds of Arendia been healed by reason of the wedding of Korodullin and Mayaserana, and the strife which hath bloodied the fair fields and forests of Noble Arendia for two thousand years and more is ended. I am content with it all. Hail then and farewell.’
And he turned from them and rode north with the Aged One and the Queenly Woman as always by his side. And they did take ship at Camaar in Sendaria and set sail for Riva, and returned no more to the kingdoms of the West.
At Tol Honeth
AFTERWORD
To me it has fallen to wrestle the chaos of documents, ancient and modern, herein contained into some kind of order. This has not been a task which I have undertaken willingly. The documents, for the most part, have no verifiable authenticity, and no scholar wishes to have his name appended to such questionable material. Moreover, it is clearly evident that many, perhaps all of the manuscripts in hand were pilfered from one source or another, and I personally find it odious to deal with material so obtained.
Unfortunately, in my capacity as tutor to the Imperial Household, I am subject to Imperial whim. Thus it was that when her Highness, Ce’Nedra, Imperial Princess of Tolnedra, and now (unfortunately) Queen of Riva, charged me with this task, I had no choice but to comply as graciously as possible. This is small reward for the support and protection I gave her on that ghastly journey ten years ago. True to her nature—and, I might add, to the nature of all the Borunes—Princess Ce’Nedra has chosen to ignore one of the most time-honored traditions in the scholarly community. It is customary, if I may be so bold as to point it out to Her Majesty, for an Imperial tutor to be named to a major chair at the Imperial University upon the completion of his service to his pupil. It was for this reason and for this reason only that I accepted my post in the Palace in the first place. I assure her that my fidelity to the near-impossible task of hammering some minimal semblance of education into a willful. arrogant, spoiled and over-pampered pupil had no other motive.
My enemies at this point are undoubtedly gloating over the fate which my frankness here must inevitably bring down upon my head. To immediately rob them of even that minuscule enjoyment, let me state here that it is my intention, when this loathsome chore is completed, to enter the Monastery at Mar-Terin and to pass my final years in peace and quiet with nothing but the shrieks of the spirit of Mara and the wails of the Marag ghosts to disturb my slumbers. From that sanctuary, beyond the reach of Imperial punishment or reward, I shall have that last and best laugh at the discomfort my words here shall cause those who have so cruelly betrayed me.
It is certainly fitting that those remarkable events of ten years ago be recorded by a competent scholar, but this present mass of gibberish is certainly not that record. Once I am safely within the sanctuary at Mar-Terin I shall undertake that study. Let the mighty tremble at that prospect. It is my intention to present those events precisely as they occurred. I will not genuflect before some high-sounding but empty concept of Borune dignity, nor will I quiver in awe at the mention of the name of the Rivan King. I know that Ran Borune XXIII is a doddering old fool, a fitting crown to the third (and hopefully last) Borune Dynasty. I know that Ce’Nedra is a spoiled brat. I know that Garion (or Belgarion as he now prefers to be called) is nothing more than a scullery boy who sits by sheerest accident on the throne at Riva. I know that Belgarath is a charlatan or a madman or worse. And I know that Polgara, that impossible woman, is no better than she should be.
But now to the documents in hand. When this mass of disorganized material was delivered to me by the ape-like Barak, I laughed at what was so obviously a fraud. The rambling, self-congratulatory preface by Belgarath provides an immediate clue as to how seriously one should take this entire thing. If we are to believe this absurd testimony, Belgarath is somewhat over seven thousand years old, consorts freely with Gods, converses with beasts and performs miracles with the wave of a hand. I am amazed that even the feeble intelligence of my former pupil accepted so ludicrous a story; for, though she has the typical Borune pig-headedness, she at least had the benefit of my tutelage during her formative years.
The next collection in this welter of documents consists of a series of extracts from the sacred writings of the various peoples of the known world. The manuscripts (all stolen, I’m sure) are hardly subject to verification. The Proverbs of Nedra, for example, are from the list approved by the priests in the Great Temple at Tol Honeth. The Lament of Mara presented here differs only marginally from a copy in my own library. The Book of Alorn is in keeping with the spirit of that barbaric race. The Book of Torak, however, is a translation from old Angarak (a language with which I am unfamiliar) and is subject to all the woeful errors common in translations. And the so-called Book of Ulgo is a patent absurdity. I have always been of the opinion that Ulgos are nothing more than a race of fanatical heretics who should have been forcibly converted to a proper religion centuries ago.
The section dealing with the history of the twelve kingdoms of the West, by contrast, is a solid and respectable piece of work—as well it should be. The document was stolen from (and still bears the seal of) the Imperial Library at Tol Honeth. My only quarrel with the manuscript is the fact that it is the official version prepared with all that toadying flattery of the House of Borune of which our present Dynasty is so fond.
The final section, the Arendish fairy-tale account of the Battle of Vo Mimbre, is a fitting conclusion to this entire work, since it is filled from beginning to end with utter nonsense.
And now my task is complete. I wish Her Imperial Highness all the joy in it she so richly deserves.
I leave behind me one wish before I depart for Mar-Terin. With all my heart I pray to Great Nedra that the Borune Dynasty which has so blighted the Empire be succeeded by the Honethites—a family with a proper respect for tradition, and one which knows how to suitably reward those who have served them.
And now, farewell.
MASTER JEEBERS Fellow of the Imperial Society Tutor to the Imperial Household Done and sealed at Tol Honeth in the year 5378.
INTERMISSION
Are you still there? What an amazing thing! If you’ve read the Belgariad, I’m sure you can see now where most of it originated. (If you haven’t read the Belgariad, why are you reading this?) The studies you’ve just so bravely endured gave us the story. Our character-sketches gave us our people. The dialogue grew out of the actual writing. I’m sure you noticed a certain amount of bickering among the troops. Grand and noble companionship sounds sort of nice, but both my wife and I have been in the military, so we know how unreal that notion is. Part of our aim was to create an epic fantasy with a heavy overlay of realism. The immediacy—that sense of actually knowing these characters which many readers have noticed—derives from that realism in dialogue and details. We can blame my wife for a lot of that. I’d be trying for ‘grand sweep’, and she’d jerk me up short with such things as, ‘It’s all black and white. It needs color.’ or ‘They haven’t eaten for three days.’ or ‘Don’t you think it’s about time that they took a bath?’ Here I am trying to save the world, and ‘Polgara’ is nagging me about bathing!
Women! (Does that sound familiar?)
I’d also frequently run into that stone wall named, ‘A woman wouldn’t talk that way. That’s a male expression. Women don’t use it.’ I’d grumble a bit and then surrender and do it her way. My personal writing strategy is ‘Blast on through and get the story in place, and then go back and clean and polish it.’ She wants it done right in the first place, and I’ve learned not to argue with the lady who runs the kitchen—unless I want boiled dog-food for supper.
/> Now let’s answer all the critics who proudly announce that they find our work derivative. What else is new? Chaucer was derivative. So was Shakespeare. The literary value of any story is in its presentation. Any plot-line can be reduced to absurdity if one chooses to do so. There’s a story, probably apocryphal, which tells us of an early movie producer who simplified all movie plots down to ‘Cinderella’ and ‘Goldilocks’. He’d buy ‘Goldilocks’, but he wouldn’t buy ‘Cinderella’.
Back to work. We’d completed the Belgariad, and now we were ready to take on the Malloreon. Most of what we needed was already in place. We had our main characters, our magic thingamajig, and our cultures of the western kingdoms. Now we needed a new ‘Bad-Guy’ (or Girl), and a new quest. (I’d also had enough of adolescents by now, and I wanted to see if Garion and Ce’Nedra could function as adults.) Oh, by the way, if anyone out there ever calls those two ‘teenagers’, I’ll turn them into a toad. ‘Teenager’ is a linguistic abomination devised by the advertising agencies and the social worker industry to obscure an unpleasant reality. The proper term is ‘adolescent’, and the only good thing about it is that everybody gets over it—eventually. (Or most of them, anyway.)
We extended the geography in our new map, and then it was time to correct the injustice we’d done to the Angaraks. Just because Germany produced Hitler doesn’t alter the fact that Germany also produced Kant, Goethe, Beethoven, and Niebuhr. No race or nationality has a monopoly on either good or evil. Perfection in either direction simply doesn’t exist in the real world, and it doesn’t exist in our world either. On one occasion Belgarath simplified the whole thing by discarding theology entirely and identifying the contending parties as ‘them and us’. You can’t get much more to the point than that. We humanized the Angaraks by humanizing Zakath and by stressing the significance of Eriond. The Christ-like quality of Eriond was quite deliberate. Torak was a mistake. Eriond was the original ‘Intent of the Universe’. (Deep, huh?)
The Rivan Codex Page 27
