Belgarath the Sorcerer and Polgara the Sorceress

by David Eddings

  Country weddings are normally rather informal affairs. The bridegroom usually takes a bath, and most of the time he’ll put on a clean shirt, but that’s about as far as it goes. Olane’s superior attitude in this situation, however, had moved Anara to tear the village of Annath apart in search of finery in which to dress her son. Quite by chance she discovered that the local cobbler had a dust-covered old purple doublet hanging in his attic, and she’d badgered the poor man unmercifully until he’d finally agreed to lend it to Geran. She’d washed it and almost forcibly compelled my grandson to put it on for the happy occasion.

  It didn’t fit him very well, though, and he kept reaching up under it trying to adjust it. ‘Just leave it alone, Geran,’ his father told him while the three of us were waiting for the ceremony to begin. ‘You’ll rip it.’

  ‘I don’t see why I have to wear this silly thing anyway, father,’ Geran complained. ‘I’ve got a perfectly good tunic.’

  ‘Your mother wants you to look a bit more dressed-up in front of the Algars,’ Darral told him. ‘Let’s not go out of our way to disappoint her. She’s having a little problem right now, so let’s humor her. Do it as a favor to your poor old father, Geran. You might be eating in your own kitchen from now on, but I still have to eat what your mother prepares. Just wear the doublet, boy. You can endure it for a few hours, and it’ll make my life a lot easier.’

  Geran grumbled a bit and then went back to that nervous pacing that all bridegrooms seem to find entertaining.

  Since the weather was fine and there were a lot of guests in attendance, the wedding took place in a pleasant flower-strewn meadow on the outskirts of Annath. When the time came, Darral and I escorted our nervous bridegroom to the altar that’d been erected in the center of the field and where the two priests who were to officiate stood glowering at each other. I could see from their expressions that Pol’s suggestion hadn’t quite ironed out all the wrinkles.

  The immediate families of the bride and groom were seated on benches just in front of the altar while the rest of the guests stood. The Sendars were all dressed in sober, serviceable brown, and they stood on one side. The Algars wore black horsehide and they stood on the other. There were some hard looks being exchanged, I noticed. The hostility between Olane and Alara had obviously polarized the wedding guests into two opposing camps.

  Most of the residents of Annath were stone-cutters by trade, so there weren’t any competent musicians among the Sendarian contingent; and Algars are so unmusical that most of them couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. Pol had considered this and had wisely decided to forego the traditional bridal march. There was enough trouble in the wind already. Some chance remark by a budding music-critic might well have set off the fights even before the ceremony.

  Ildera was escorted to the altar by her father, Grettan, whose expression indicated that he was devoutly wishing that this day would end. The bride, dressed all in white and with a garland of spring flowers encircling her pale, blonde head, was radiant. Brides always are – or had you noticed that? Brides are radiant, and bridegrooms are nervous. Does that suggest to you who really runs the world?

  Polgara – dressed in blue, naturally – came immediately behind Ildera and Grettan. Though this was supposed to be a happy event, Polgara’s face was stern. There was an enormous potential for violence in the air, and Pol wanted everybody to understand that she’d brook no nonsense here.

  The double ceremony seemed to go on for hours. I’m fairly sure that Geran felt it did, at any rate. The Algar priest invoked the blessing of Belar at some length, and the Sendarian priest responded by invoking the blessing of each of the other six Gods in turn. I tried not to show any visible signs of amusement when he got to Torak. I was almost positive that even if he’d been awake, Torak wouldn’t have responded, since this particular wedding and its ultimate outcome was most definitely not the sort of thing to fill the One-eyed God with rejoicing and good will. The Sendars are broadly ecumenical, however, so they habitually include all seven Gods in their religious observances.

  At any rate, the ceremony was finally completed, and the bride and groom exchanged a chaste kiss. Then came the wedding banquet, which Pol herself had prepared, and there were many toasts to the bride and groom, and along about sunset, the happy couple was escorted to the front door of the house Geran had built for them by everyone still sober enough to walk.

  Then, as a soft and luminous evening settled over Annath, the fights got under way.

  All in all, it was a fairly successful wedding.

  I spent the night in Darral’s house, and the next morning, Pol woke me up just as the sun was rising. ‘What was all the shouting and noise last night?’ she asked me.

  ‘The wedding guests were celebrating.’

  ‘Really? It didn’t sound exactly like a celebration to me.’

  ‘Weddings are emotional events, Pol, and all sorts of emotions were floating around last evening.’

  ‘It sounded like a general brawl, father.’

  ‘No wedding’s complete without a few fights. They make the occasion memorable.’

  ‘Were there many fatalities?’

  ‘None that I know of. That windy priest of Belar won’t be giving any long sermons for a while, though – at least not until his broken jaw heals.’

  ‘No cloud’s without its silver lining, I suppose. What are your plans?’

  ‘I think I’ll go back to the Vale. This wedding’s been a kind of EVENT, and it might have shaken a few more things out of the Mrin. Besides, I’d better get away from Annath. Chamdar’s in Tolnedra right now, but I’m sure he’s got Grolims out scouting around, and I don’t want to attract attention to this place.’

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

  ‘I’ll do that.’

  And so I got up and dressed. I ate a rather hasty breakfast, and rambled down to the other end of the single street of the village of Annath to pay my respects to the bride and groom. Geran had that somewhat startled look on his face that new husbands always seem to have, and Ildera spent a lot of time blushing, as new wives almost always do. I took that to be a good sign.

  Then I left Annath and went on back to the Vale.

  I didn’t really do much when I got home. Something very important was about to happen, and my anticipation made it a little hard for me to concentrate. Despite their best efforts, the twins had been unable to dig anything else significant out of the Mrin. Garion’s friend, like the rest of us, seemed to be just biding his time.

  Sometimes it seems that I’ve spent most of my life biding my time.

  It was just after Erastide the following winter when Beldin came home. I don’t really like to travel in the winter time myself, but Beldin has always ignored the seasons – one of the results of his peculiar childhood, I’d imagine. Just to pass the time, I’d been rereading an ancient Melcene epic that recounted the probably mythic adventures of one of their national heroes, the half-wit who’d blundered out to sea in a small boat and had discovered the Melcene Islands off the east coast of Mallorea.

  ‘Belgarath!’ my distorted brother bellowed up to me from down below, ‘open your stupid door!’

  I went to the head of the stairs. ‘Open!’ I told the flat boulder that kept most of the weather out of the vestibule of my tower. It rolled smoothly off to one side, and Beldin came in. ‘Why do you keep that silly thing closed?’ he demanded, stamping the snow off his feet.

  ‘Habit, I suppose,’ I replied. ‘Come on up.’

  He clumped up the stairs. ‘Aren’t you ever going to clean this place?’ he asked, looking around at clutter I’ve grown so accustomed to that I didn’t even notice it any more.

  ‘I’ll get to it – one of these days. What finally persuaded you to come down off the top of that ridge in southern Cthol Murgos?’

  ‘An earthquake, actually. Did something significant happen last spring?’

  ‘Oh, Geran and Ildera got married.’

  ‘If the twins a
re right, that’s probably the most significant thing to happen since Vo Mimbre. That explains the earthquake, I guess.’

  ‘Did it wake up Torak?’

  ‘Not as far as I could tell. He didn’t blow out the side of his cave, anyway. How was the wedding?’

  ‘Not bad. The ceremony itself was tedious, but the fights afterward were fairly exciting.’

  ‘Sorry I missed it, then,’ he said with that short, ugly laugh of his. ‘Is Ildera pregnant yet?’

  ‘Not that I’ve heard.’

  ‘What’s taking them so long?’

  ‘The Necessity, I’d imagine. The birth of the Godslayer’s going to be one of those EVENTS, and time’s rather crucial in those. Ildera won’t get pregnant until the Necessity decides that it’s the proper moment. Has Zedar ever come back to that cave?’

  ‘Not yet. He’s probably still wandering around. Have the twins found out what he’s looking for?’

  ‘No. At least they haven’t said so to me.’

  ‘Are you sure that Geran’s going to be the father of the one we’ve been waiting for?’

  ‘The twins seem to think so. It’s going to happen in this century, anyway.’

  ‘Well, it’s about time!’

  ‘Patience was never one of your strong points, brother mine. What took you so long to get here from Cthol Murgos?’

  ‘I went out and had a look around. There’s trouble in Mallorea.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Zakath’s been crowned emperor, and that terrified Taur Urgas for some reason, so he decided to take steps.’

  ‘Why’s Taur Urgas so afraid of Zakath?’

  ‘Taur Urgas is crazy, Belgarath, and crazy people don’t need reasons for the things they do – or for the way they feel. Zakath’s a very ambitions young man, though, and Taur Urgas has agents in Mallorea keeping an eye on him. Mallorea’s a big place, but the notion of being “Overking of all of Angarak” seems to appeal to Zakath for some reason, and word of that’s been filtering back to Rak Goska. I guess it’s making Taur Urgas very nervous. Mallorea’s at least twice the size of Cthol Murgos, and it’s got about five times as many people. If Zakath decides that he wants to rule the Angarak world, there wouldn’t be very much Taur Urgas could do to prevent it.’

  ‘If we’re lucky, we might see a repetition of what happened in the desert of Araga just before Vo Mimbre.’

  ‘I wouldn’t get my hopes up, Belgarath. Torak’s going to wake up before too much longer, and Old Burnt-face is at least as crazy as Taur Urgas is, but he does have a long memory. He’s not going to permit Taur Urgas and Zakath to repeat what Ctuchik and Urvon did to disrupt his plans last time.’

  ‘You said that Taur Urgas was taking steps. What did he do?’

  ‘I think I told you that Zakath went to Melcena to study at the university. He was very impressed with Melcene. When you get right down to it, Mal Zeth’s not much more than an army camp, but Melcena’s very civilized and sophisticated. Zakath was the Crown Prince of Mallorea, so he was customarily invited into the best homes in town. He was introduced to a high-ranking Melcene girl of his own age, and she absolutely took his breath away,’ He sighed. ‘If that’d been allowed to run its course, it probably would have changed the course of history. The girl was beautiful and brilliant. Her influence on Zakath would have been enormous.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I was just getting to that. It was at that point that Taur Urgas stepped in. His agents reported the connection between Zakath and the Melcene girl, and they also reported that the girl was a member of a high-ranking family that was in debt up to its eyebrows. Taur Urgas is crazy, but he’s not stupid. He saw the possibilities of the situation immediately. He sent orders to his people in Melcene to quietly buy up those debts. Once he owned their obligations, he was in a position to put quite a bit of pressure on the girl’s family.’

  ‘What did he hope to gain from that?’

  ‘Zakath came to the throne when he was eighteen or so, and it was fairly common knowledge in Melcena that there was a marriage proposal in the wind. Taur Urgas is a Murgo, so he’s abysmally ignorant of the nature of the Melcenes. Murgo women are kept penned up and ignorant, so they do what their families tell them to do. Obedience is beaten into them from the cradle. A Murgo girl would cut her own throat if her father told her to. Melcene girls are more spirited, but Taur Urgas didn’t know that. He just assumed that the girl would do whatever her family ordered her to do. He sent word to his people in Melcene to give the girl’s family some very specific instructions and to threaten to call in their debts if they didn’t obey. The family had been scrambling round trying to raise enough money to pay off those debts, but they needed more time, so they seemed to go along with the plot.’

  ‘This is starting to sound like a bad Arendish tragedy, Beldin,’ I observed.

  ‘Oh, it gets even worse. Taur Urgas had a very simple plan to delete a potential rival. He sent one of the more potent Nyissan poisons to a nephew of his in the city of Melcene – along with some very blunt instructions. The girl was supposed to encourage Zakath’s attentions and then to poison him at the first opportunity. A nice obedient Murgo girl would have done exactly that, but a Melcene girl would have refused. Taur Urgas is so crazy that he couldn’t tell the difference. The girl’s family was still playing for time, so they pretended to agree. Unfortunately, there are always a few black sheep in any flock, and an unscrupulous fellow in one of the minor branches of the family saw a chance to make a killing.’ Beldin made a sour face. ‘Bad choice of words there, perhaps.’

  ‘Yes. I think I see where this is going.’

  ‘I thought you might have. Anyway, this devious scoundrel sold the details of the plot to some government officials, and the word filtered up to Zakath himself. Despite his civilized manner, Zakath’s still an Angarak, so he immediately went up in flames. Without even thinking, he ordered the extermination of every member of that Melcene family. His underlings – also Angaraks – followed his orders to the letter. The girl was among the first to fall. When the information came to light later that she’d been totally innocent, Zakath quite nearly went mad with grief and remorse. He locked himself in his room for about six months, and when he came out, he was an entirely different man. Before the incident, he seemed to be a civilized, enlightened sort of fellow who probably would have made a good emperor. Now, he’s an absolute monster who rules Mallorea with a iron fist, and he’s obsessed with the idea of doing some very unpleasant things to Taur Urgas.’

  ‘More power to him.’ I approved. ‘If I weren’t so busy right now, I might offer to lend him a hand.’

  ‘You can be nasty when you set your mind to it, Belgarath, but you’re no match for Zakath. He sent Taur Urgas a letter after he came out of seclusion, and he ordered copies of the letter widely circulated – just to add to the insult, I’d imagine. I got my hands on a copy.’ He reached inside his ragged tunic and brought out a folded piece of paper. ‘Would you like to read the most insulting letter one reigning monarch has ever sent to another?’

  I took the paper, unfolded it, and read.

  ‘To his Majesty, Taur Urgas of Murgodom,’ it began.

  ‘I was unamused by your recent attempt to influence Mallorean internal affairs, you Murgo dog. Were it not for current world conditions, I would bring the entire weight of my empire down upon your head for your offense.

  ‘To insure that there will be no recurrence of this affair, I have taken all Murgos within my boundaries into custody to serve as hostages to your continued good behavior. I am advised that several of these internees are closely related to you. Should you instigate further adventures in my realm, I shall return your kinsmen to you – piece by piece.

  ‘In the past, your madness has filled your world with imagined enemies. Rejoice, Taur Urgas, and put aside your insanity, for you now have a real foe, far more deadly than any of the phantoms of your lunacy. You may be assured that as soon as world conditions permit, I will descend upon
you and that stinking wasteland you rule. It is my firm intention to destroy you and your entire vile race. It will be my pleasure to exterminate every last Murgo from the face of the world and to expunge every mention of your people from the record of human history.

  ‘Keep a watchful eye over your shoulder, you madman, for as surely as the sun rises tomorrow, one day I will be there to administer the punishment you so richly deserve.

  ‘Zakath.’

  I whistled and handed the letter back. ‘That comes very close to being an open declaration of war,’ I said.

  ‘Impressive, wot?’ Beldin agreed with a broad grin. ‘I may just frame it and hang it on the wall in my tower. I’ve heard that Taur Urgas was frothing at the mouth and chewing up the carpet before he even finished reading it. Zakath’s been carrying out his threat, too. He’s been sending bits and pieces of assorted Murgos to Rak Goska for the edification of the Murgo King. Urvon’s been trying to make peace between the two of them, but he’s not making much progress. Zakath’s heart’s been turned to stone, and Taur Urgas is getting crazier by the minute.’

  ‘I’ll pass this on to Rhodar,’ I said. ‘Drasnian intelligence might be able to keep the pot boiling. Is Ctuchik doing anything?’

  ‘Ctuchik’s your responsibility, Belgarath. I did hear that he’d formed a council of hierarchs, though. I don’t know that they’ll ever be very significant, Grolim politics being what they are. I saw several Murgo caravans on the south trail as I came across. Are they up to something?’

  I nodded. ‘They’re coming west in droves, pretending to be interested in trade. It’s probably Chamdar’s idea. He can read the signs as well as we can, so he knows we’re getting close. Evidently he want lots of help.’

  ‘Where is he now?’