"It doesn't hurt to take a few extra precautions."
The weather finally broke about a month later, and we started making preparations for the trip.
"Are we almost ready to leave?" Beldaran asked one fine spring afternoon.
"I don't think we need to bring the furniture," Beldin said a bit sourly. Beldin believed in traveling light.
"I'll go get Polgara, then," she said.
"She won't come, Beldaran," I said.
"Oh, she'll come, all right." There was an uncharacteristic hint of steel in my younger daughter's voice.
"She doesn't approve of this wedding, you know."
"That's her problem. She is going to attend, whether she likes it or not." It was easy to underestimate Beldaran because of her sweet, sunny disposition. She rarely asserted any kind of authority, largely because she didn't have to. We all loved her so much that she usually got what she wanted without making any fuss about it. When one of us crossed her, however, she could be very firm. She'd been a bit disappointed that the twins wouldn't be going with us, but somebody had to stay in the Vale, and the twins weren't really comfortable in the presence of strangers.
I think I'd have given a great deal to have heard the conversation between my daughters when Beldaran went to the tree to fetch Pol.
Neither of them would talk about it afterward. But though Polgara was a bit sullen, she did come with us.
We skirted the eastern border of Ulgoland, of course, but that was standard practice in those days. Beldin scouted ahead. We weren't really expecting any trouble, but Beldin never missed an opportunity to fly.
I wonder how he and Vella are getting along. She doesn't have her daggers any more, but I'd imagine that her beak and talons sort of make up for that.
The weather was particularly fine that year, and the snow had largely melted in the passes through the Sendarian Mountains. When we reached Muros, Anrak went on ahead.
"Riva's instructions," he explained.
"As soon as I get to the coast, I'm supposed to send word to him.
He'll bring a ship and meet us in Camaar."
"Do we really think it's safe to take father back to Camaar?" Polgara said with just a hint of spitefulness. But both the girls were a little nervous in Muros. Sometimes I forgot about the fact that they'd never been out of the Vale before, and strangers made them uncomfortable. Muros wasn't much of a town in those days, but it still had more people in it than my daughters were used to.
We hired a carriage there and rode down-river in style. When we reached Camaar, I did not revisit the waterfront. We took lodgings in one of the better inns in the main part of town, and I let Beldin go find Anrak.
"Riva's on the way," Anrak assured us when Beldin brought him to our inn.
"He's probably crowded on several acres of sail. He really wants to meet you, Pretty."
Beldaran blushed.
"Disgusting," Polgara muttered. I knew that this was all going to come to a head eventually. Polgara's discontent about her sister's impending wedding was probably quite natural. There were ties between my daughters that I couldn't even begin to understand. Polgara seemed to be the dominant twin, but she was the one who automatically spoke in plurals--which is usually the sign of the submissive sister. To this very day, if you're impolite enough to ask Polgara how old she is, she'll probably say something like
"We're about three thousand--or so." Beldaran's been gone for a long time, but she still looms very large in Polgara's conception of the world.
I think that someday I'll have a long talk with Pol about that. The world-view of someone who's never really been alone might be very interesting.
And then Riva arrived in Camaar. I'm sure that the citizens noticed him. It wasn't so much the fact that he was seven feet tall that got their attention. I think it might have had something to do with the way he tried to walk straight through anything or anyone standing between him and Beldaran. I've seen people who were in love before, but nobody has ever taken it to such extremes as Riva did.
When he came into the room at the inn--Beldin was quick enough to get the door open for him before he walked right through it--he took one look at my blonde daughter, and that was it for him.
Beldaran had been practicing a pretty little speech, but when she saw Riva's face, she lost it entirely.
They didn't say anything to each other! Have you ever spent an entire afternoon in the room with two people who don't talk at all, but just sat gazing into each others' faces?
It finally got to the point that it was embarrassing, so I spent the afternoon looking at Polgara instead. Now, there was a study for you.
There was so much naked emotion in that room that the air almost seemed to crackle with it. At first Polgara looked at Iron-grip with open and undisguised hostility. Here was her rival, and she absolutely hated him. Gradually, however, the sheer force of the absolute adoration with which Riva and Beldaran gazed at each other began to impress itself upon her. Polgara can keep her emotions from showing on her face, but she can't control her eyes. I watched those glorious eyes of hers flicker back and forth from steely grey to deepest lavender as her conflicting emotions struggled within her. It took her a long time. Polgara isn't one to give up easily. Finally, however, she sighed a long, quavering sigh, and two great tears welled up in those eyes. She quite obviously realized that she had lost. There was no way she could compete with the love between her sister and the Rivan King.
I felt a sudden wave of sympathy for her at that point, so I went over to where she was sitting and took her dirty hand in mine.
"Why don't we step outside, Pol?" I suggested gently.
"Get a bit of air?"
She gave me a quick, grateful look, nodded mutely, and rose to her feet. We left the room with dignity.
There was a balcony at the end of the hallway outside the room, and we went there.
"Well," she said in an almost neutral tone of voice,
"I
guess that settles that, doesn't it?"
"It was settled a long time ago, Pol," I told her.
"This is one of those Necessities. It has to happen."
"It always comes back to that, doesn't it, father?"
"Necessity? Of course, Pol. It has to do with who we are."
"Does it ever get any easier?"
"Not that I've noticed."
"Well, I just hope that they'll be happy." I was so proud of her at that moment that my heart almost burst.
Then she suddenly turned to me.
"Oh, father!" she cried with a broken-hearted wail. She clung to me in a sudden storm of weeping.
I held her, saying
"There, there." That's one of the stupidest things a man can possibly say, but under the circumstances, it was the best I could manage.
In time she got it under control, and she sniffed, a particularly unlovely sound.
"Use your handkerchief," I told her.
"I forgot to bring one."
I made one for her--right there on the spot--and offered to her.
"Thank you." She blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes.
"Is there a bathhouse in this place?" she asked then.
"I think so. I'll ask the innkeeper."
"I'd appreciate it. I think it's time I got cleaned up. I don't really have any reason to be dirty any more, do I?"
Somehow that one escaped me.
"Why don't you go out and buy me a decent gown, father?" she suggested then.
"Of course, Pol. Anything else?"
"A comb and brush, perhaps." She took hold of one tangled lock, pulled it forward, and looked at it critically.
"I suppose I really ought to do something about my hair, too."
"I'll see what I can find. Would you like a ribbon, as well?"
"Don't be ridiculous, father. I'm not a maypole. I don't need decorations.
Go talk to the innkeeper. I really want to take a bath. Oh, incidentally, just a plain dress. This is Beldaran's party, not mine. I'l
l be in my room." And she went off down the hallway.
I located the bathhouse for her, and then I went looking for Anrak. I found him and Beldin in the taproom on the main floor of the inn.
"Go find me a dressmaker," I told him.
"A what?"
"Polgara wants a new dress."
"What's wrong with the one she's got?"
"Just do it, Anrak, don't argue with me. Oh, she wants a comb and brush, too. The dressmaker should be able to tell you where to find them."
He looked mournfully into his half-full tankard.
"Now, Anrak."
He sighed and went on out.
"What's this all about?" Beldin asked me.
"Polgara's had a change of heart. She doesn't want to look like an abandoned bird's nest any more."
"What brought that on?"
"I haven't got any idea, and I'm not going to ask. If she wants to look like a girl instead of a haystack, that's up to her."
"You're in a peculiar humor."
"I know." Then I jumped into the air and crowed exultantly.
We were all stunned when Polgara came into the room the next morning. The plain dress she wore was blue, of course. Pol almost always wears blue. Her long, dark hair was pulled back rather severely and tied at the nape of her neck. Now that she was clean, we saw that her skin was very fair, much like her sister's, and she was startlingly beautiful. It was her manner, however, that took us all by surprise. Even at sixteen, Pol was as regal as any queen.
Riva and Anrak both rose to their feet and bowed to her. Then Anrak sighed lustily.
"What's the matter?" his cousin asked him.
"I think I've made a mistake."
"There's nothing new about that."
"I think I'm going to regret this one, though. I might have had a chance with Lady Polgara if I'd pressed the issue. The Vale's pretty isolated, so she didn't have any other suitors. I'm afraid it's too late now, though. As soon as we get her to Riva, every young man on the Isle's going to pay court to her."
Pol gave him a warm look.
"Why did you let her get away?" Riva asked him.
"You saw how she looked yesterday, didn't you?"
"No, not really. I had my mind on other things."
Beldaran blushed. They'd both had their minds on other things.
"Please don't be offended. Lady Polgara," Anrak said to my eldest daughter.
"Not at all, Anrak," she replied. She seemed quite taken with the idea of being called
"Lady Polgara." Just about everybody in the world calls her that now, but I think she still gets a warm glow every time she hears it.
"Well," Anrak said, choosing his words carefully,
"Lady Polgara was just a little indifferent to appearances when I first saw her. I think she's a sorceress--like her father. Of course, he's a sorcerer, not a sorceress, but you know what I mean. Anyway, all sorcerers are very deep, you know, and she'd probably been thinking about something for several million years, and--" "I'm only sixteen, Anrak," Pol corrected him gently.
"Well, yes, I know, but time doesn't mean the same thing to you people as it does to us. You can make time stop and start again any time you want, can't you?"
"Can we do that, father?" she asked me with some curiosity.
"I don't know." I looked at Beldin.
"Can we?"
"Well, theoretically, I suppose," he replied.
"Belmakor and I discussed the possibility once, but we decided that it wouldn't be a good idea. You might get time all mixed up--one time in one place and a different time in another. It'd probably be very hard to get it all put back together right again, and you couldn't just leave it that way."
"Why not?"
"Because you'd be in two places at the same time."
"What's wrong with that?"
"It'd be a paradox, Belgarath. Belmakor and I weren't sure what that might do to the universe--rip it to pieces, maybe, or just make it vanish."
"It wouldn't do that."
"I wasn't going to try it to find out."
"You see what I mean about how deep these people are?" Anrak said to his cousin.
"Anyway, the Lady Polgara had flown up into a tree, and she was doing sorceress things. I sort of suggested that I might consider marrying her--since her sister was going to marry you, and twins always like to do things together. She didn't think too much of the idea, I guess, so I didn't press the issue. To be honest about it, she wasn't very tidy when I first saw her." He stopped, looking at Pol with a certain consternation.
"I was in disguise, Anrak," she helped him out.
"Really? Why was that?"
"It was one of those sorceress things you mentioned."
"Oh, one of those. It was a very good disguise, Lady Polgara. You were an absolute mess."
"I wouldn't push that too much further, Anrak," Beldaran advised.
"Why don't we have some breakfast and start packing instead? I really want to see my new home."
We set sail later on that same day, and we arrived at Riva's city two days afterward. His people were all down at the beach waiting for us-well, for Beldaran, actually. I don't imagine that the Rivans were very interested in looking at Beldin and me, but they really wanted to get a look at their new queen. Riva hovered protectively over her. He didn't want anybody admiring her too much.
I'm sure they got his point--at least where Beldaran was concerned.
There were other things to be admired, however.
"You'd better get yourself a club," Beldin muttered to me.
"What?"
"A club, Belgarath--a stout stick with a big end."
"What do I need with a club?"
"Use your eyes, Belgarath. Take a long, hard look at Polgara and then look at the faces of all those young Alorns standing on the beach. Believe me, you're going to need a club."
I didn't, exactly, but I made a special point of not letting Pol out of my sight while we were on the Isle of the Winds. I suspect that I might have been more comfortable if Pol had held off on emerging from her cocoon for a while. I was proud of her, of course, but her altered appearance made me very nervous. She was young and inexperienced, and the young men on the Isle were obviously very much taken with her.
My strategy was quite simple. I sat in plain view and scowled. I was wearing one of those ridiculous white robes people are always trying to foist off on me, and I carried a long staff--much as I had in Arendia and Tolnedra. I had quite a reputation among Alorns, and those absurd trappings enhanced it and got my point across. The young Rivans were polite and attentive--which was fine. But they didn't lure Polgara off into dark corners--which wouldn't have been.
Pol, of course, was having the time of her life. She didn't exactly encourage that crowd of suitors, but she smiled a great deal and even laughed now and then. It's a cruel thing to suggest, but I suspect that she even enjoyed the fact that young Rivan girls frequently left the room where she was holding court so that they could go someplace private.
Gnawing on your own liver isn't the sort of thing you want to do in public.
We'd been in the Hall of the Rivan King for about a week when a fleet of Cherek war boats sailed into the harbor. The other Alorn kings had arrived for Riva's wedding.
It was good to see Cherek and his sons again, although we didn't really have much chance to talk. Pol assured me that she could take care of herself, but I didn't feel like taking chances.
Yes, Polgara, I was jealous. Aren't fathers supposed to be jealous? I knew what those young men had on their minds, and I was not going to leave you alone with them.
A couple of days after Cherek and the boys had arrived, Beldin came looking for me. I was in my usual place wearing my usual scowl, and Polgara was busy breaking hearts.
"I think you'd better have a talk with Bear-shoulders," he told me.
"Oh?"
"Riva's wedding's starting to give Dras and Algar some ideas."
"What kind of ideas?"
"Gr
ow up, Belgarath. Regardless of how Riva and Beldaran feel about each other, this is a political marriage."
"Theological, actually."
"It means the same thing. Dras and Algar are starting to think about the advantages that might be involved in a marriage to Polgara."
"That's ridiculous!"
"I'm not the one who's thinking about it, so don't blame me if it's ridiculous. Sooner or later, one of them's going to go to Cherek and ask him to speak with you about it. Then he'll come to you with some kind of proposal. You'd better head that off before he embarrasses himself. We still need the Alorns on our side."
I swore and stood up.
"Can you keep an eye on Polgara for me?"
"Why not?"
"Watch out for that tall one with the blond hair. Pol's paying a little too much attention to him for my comfort."
"I'll take care of it."
"Don't do anything permanent to him. He's the son of a Clan-Chief, and this Isle's a little too confined for a clan war." Then I went looking for Cherek Bear-shoulders.
I stretched the truth just a bit when I told him that Aldur had instructed me to keep Pol with me in the Vale and that she wasn't supposed to get married for quite some time. Once I'd headed off their father, Dras and Algar could make all the proposals to him they wanted to. He wouldn't act as their go-between.
Bear-shoulders had aged since we'd gone to Mallorea. His hair and beard were shot with grey now, and a lot of the fun seemed to have gone out of his eyes. He told me that the Nadraks had been scouting along Bull-neck's eastern border and that the Murgos had been coming down the Eastern Escarpment and probing into Algaria.
"We probably ought to discourage that," I told him.
"Dras and Algar are taking care of it," he replied.
"Technically speaking, there's still a state of war between us and the Angaraks, so we could probably justify a certain amount of firmness if the issue ever came up in court."
"Cherek, we're talking about international politics here. There aren't any laws, and there aren't any courts."
He sighed.
"The world's getting more civilized all the time, Belgarath," he said mournfully.
Rivan Codex Series Page 34
