The Rivan Codex: Ancient Texts of THE BELGARIAD and THE MALLOREON (The Belgariad / The Malloreon)

by Eddings, Leigh;Eddings, David

  MY ISLENA IS PREGNANT! What an amazing thing! Either she has overcome her fear of childbirth or one of the nostrums she routinely takes to prevent pregnancy failed her. She refuses to discuss the matter. Merel, Barak’s wife, is constantly at her side to shore her up in moments of weakness. There is a woman that is made of steel. Sometimes she even intimidates me. She purrs like a kitten when Barak is around, however. I will never understand women. After all these years, I’m going to be a father. Barak and I are now going to go out and get disgustingly drunk.

  The commercial empire of Prince Kheldar and his Nadrak accomplice has swelled beyond the bounds of good taste. They totally dominate trade along the North Caravan Route, and they have hired the shipyards at Yar Marak to build them a fleet of merchant vessels so that they might plunder Mallorea. The rascally Kheldar came to Cherek like a thief in the night and hired away every ship-builder he could find. So total was their defection that I couldn’t even get a row-boat built in the yards at Val Alorn if I needed one. It’s a sad reflection on the times when money commands more respect than patriotism or loyalty to one’s nation and one’s King. Islena swells like a big-bellied sail, and she has developed an insatiable craving for strawberries. Where am I going to find strawberries at this time of year?

  I have sent this day a remonstrance to Prince Kheldar. I should have realized that the boats he was building were only a prelude. He has now begun recruiting sailors. I don’t have enough good men left in Cherek to man the fleet. The wages he offers are absolutely outrageous. I’d have to strip my treasury to match them. He goes too far. He goes too far. I never really liked him anyway.

  Polgara has graciously sent Islena whole baskets of strawberries from her own garden. How she made the bushes bear in the fall is quite beyond me. After eating only two, however, Islena lost interest in them. What am I going to do with all those strawberries?

  Ariana, wife of Lelldorin of Wildantor, has given birth to their first son. I hope that’s a good sign.

  I HAVE A SON!—a great squalling boy with black hair and lungs like a set of bellows! May Belar be blessed! As is our custom, Barak and I took him immediately to the harbor and dipped his feet into the salt water of the sea so that he will ever be a sailor. Upon our return, my cousin and I broached a hogs-head of fine old ale to aid us in our consideration of a suitable name for him. The ale, unfortunately, hampered my creativity, and my Earls advise me that sometime after midnight I poured beer on my son and named him Anheg, after myself. Oh well, Anheg II isn’t such a bad name, I suppose. Islena’s labor lasted only a day and a half, scarcely worth mentioning. She is dramatizing it all out of proportion, however, and I try to humor her. She did, after all, do a fairly good job of carrying my child, and I suppose I owe her something for that.

  5381

  ’ZAKATH has returned to Mallorea and has crushed the rebellion in Karanda. I’m told that his suppression of dissident factions in Zamad, Ganesia and Voresebo was particularly savage. Will nothing halt the man’s run of good luck? I suppose we can expect him back on this continent again before long. My son has his first tooth! He bit me with it this morning—not hard enough to draw blood, but he was trying.

  Ran Borune died this spring. The state funeral was huge. I rather liked him, all things considered, but events in Tolnedra have soured noticeably in the years of his decline. Varana, never one to miss a strategic opportunity, had himself immediately crowned Emperor of Tolnedra. Technically his name is Ran Borune XXIV, but we all still call him Varana. The great houses, of course, are all outraged, but Varana controls the legions, and that is where the real power in Tolnedra lies. The Honeths, the Horbites and the Borunes have all (grudgingly) taken the customary oath of allegiance. The Vordues, however, steadfastly refuse to swear fealty. I suspect that my friend will be obliged to clear that up before his claim to the throne is finally secure.

  A returning sailor has informed me that Prince Kheldar, acting for all the world like a head of state, has paid an official visit to ’Zakath at the Mallorean Imperial capital at Mal Zeth. The sailor was not privy to the details of their conversations, but his descriptions of Kheldar’s glee following the meetings can only lead me to believe that the wily little thief has concluded some very advantageous trade agreements with the Mallorean throne. I can only hope that Kheldar won’t forget that he’s an Alorn.

  Trouble in Arendia again. The Baron of Vo Ebor, seriously wounded at the Battle of Thull Mardu, passed away this preceding winter. His heir, a nephew, asserted his authority as the new baron and promised the hand of the widow Nerina to one of his cronies. Mandorallen, the Baron of Vo Mandor, chose at that point to intervene. He marched into the barony of Vo Ebor and took the sorrowing baroness into ‘protective custody’. Several knights rashly attempted to impede the great man’s progress. The casualties, I understand, were extensive. Once again the Arendish potential for disaster has asserted itself. A state of war now exists between the two baronies, and the rest of the Mimbrate nobility is choosing up sides. Mandorallen is forted up at Vo Mador, paying court to his captive lady, and the new Baron of Vo Ebor, who, it appears, will recover from his wounds, is howling for his head. Korodullin is beside himself, and Lelldorin of Wildantor, ever an enthusiast, is recruiting an army in Asturia to march to the aid of his old comrade in arms. Arends can get into more trouble by accident than most of us can on purpose.

  Taiba, wife of Relg the Zealot, gave birth to twin daughters this fall. She appears to have every intention of repopulating Maragor singlehandedly. The customary presents on each such occasion are beginning to cut into my pocket rather deeply.

  My son is walking now. In celebration, I gave him one small cup of mild beer. Now Islena isn’t talking to me.

  5382

  VARANA’S difficulties in Tolnedra are multiplying. The Vordues steadfastly refuse to admit his legitimacy, and refuse to allow Imperial Tax Collectors into northern Tolnedra. They have instead usurped tax-gathering, and these technically Imperial funds are pouring into the treasure-vaults in the cellars of the Vordue family palaces. The power to tax is the ultimate power of any government, and any interference with tax-gathering is tantamount to an open declaration of war upon the central government. All of Tolnedra holds its breath to see how Varana will respond to the challenge of the Vordues. His situation is difficult. He is reluctant, obviously, to command the legions into the northern provinces to enforce his authority by the sword. His claim to the throne is tenuous at best, and harsh measures against the Vorduvian insurgents would quickly give him a reputation as a tyrant. He cannot, however, allow this challenge to pass unanswered. I sympathize with him in this difficult time.

  At the request of King Korodullin of Arendia, Belgarion of Riva sailed to that kingdom to mediate the dispute between the Baronies of Mandor and Ebor. He came upon them as they were engaging upon the plains of southern Arendia. At first, the din of battle drowned out our young friend’s voice as he attempted to call a halt to the hostilities. Presently, he grew irritated. I suspect this to be a trait of his family. I have noted that same irritability in Belgarath on numerous occasions. At any rate, Belgarion drew his sword. Now this is a spectacle which will stop any man from doing anything in which he is currently engaged. The sword, of course, immediately leapt joyously into flame. The sight of Belgarion, his burning sword held aloft, his face angry and his eyes ablaze, caused a great consternation among the two armies. To emphasize his dissatisfaction with their behavior, the young King of Riva called upon his power of sorcery. The first thunder-clap he called down shook the earth as far as Vo Mimbre and tumbled fully armed knights from their saddles. The second ripped open the sky and engulfed the entire battlefield in an unbelievable downpour of rain and hail. With a single word he stopped the torrential rain and then spoke to the two armies in a voice which could be heard clearly three leagues away. His words are clearly engraved upon the memories of all who were present.

  ‘Stop this foolishness at once!’ he commanded them. He then pointed his
sword at the Baron of Vo Ebor. ‘You,’ he said, ‘come here.’ The Baron tremblingly approached him. ‘You,’ he said then to Sir Mandorallen, ‘I want you over here, too.’ Pale-faced, the great knight obeyed. Belgarion then proceeded to give the two a blistering dressing-down. Finally, after he had reduced the pair of them nearly to tears, he ended their war with a series of blunt commands. To the Baron of Vo Ebor he said, ‘You will immediately surrender any and all claims of authority over the person and future of the Baroness Nerina.’ To Sir Mandorallen he said, ‘You will return immediately to Vo Mandor, where you will marry the lady in question. You will—here and now—relinquish any and all territorial claims on behalf of the Baroness. In short, gentlemen, the Baron gets the land, and Mandorallen gets the lady—and that is that!’ He then glared at them. ‘Now go home,’ he said. ‘I’m sick of looking at both of you.’ And that ended the civil war.

  The Baroness Nerina, an Arend to the bone, protested vigorously when Belgarion and Mandorallen advised her that she was that day to be married to the man she had loved for all those years. Quite clearly she saw all those splendid opportunities for tragic suffering flying out the window. Belgarion, however, would have none of that. Bluntly he silenced her and then quite literally drove the pair of them before him to the chapel and stood threateningly over them while the priest of Chaldan performed the ceremony. Thus ended one of the great tragic love-stories of contemporary history. The melancholy Baroness is now radiant; gloomy Mandorallen now smiles foolishly all the time; and Belgarion returned to Riva with a self-congratulatory smirk on his lips.

  The incident provides a certain insight into our Belgarion’s character which is quite instructive. He is an extraordinarily long-suffering fellow, but he will only allow things to go so far before he takes steps. Once he decides that the time has come to act, nothing in the world can stand in his path. I must remember never to cross him.

  In Algaria, Hettar and Adara have had their second child, a girl. Everyone in the whole world seems to be having children—except for Belgarion and Ce’Nedra. I wonder if they’re doing something wrong.

  5383

  ’ZAKATH has returned to his campaign in southern Cthol Murgos. His absence gave King Urgit time to gather up the shattered remnants of his army and to reorganize them. He has no hope, of course, of meeting ’Zakath on the open plains of southeastern Cthol Murgos. Such an encounter would be disastrous for him and would mark the end of the Murgo nation. He has instead, wisely I think, retreated into the mountains of Araga and of Urga on the west coast. Murgos are splendid mountain fighters, but, as Cho-Hag found on the plains of Algaria and as we all discovered at Thull Mardu, they do not do so well in open country. ’Zakath will be forced to chase the Murgos in terrain of their choosing. Such campaigning is likely to take generations. I’m rather pleased about that idea, and I wish both sides enormous success in their efforts to exterminate each other.

  Varana has approached the Vordues in a conciliatory fashion, obviously hoping to head off civil war in Tolnedra. They have coldly rejected his offer. It is quite rapidly reaching the point where he will have to move decisively or his entire nation will disintegrate before his eyes.

  Belgarath passed through on his way to Riva. I have seldom seen him so angry. Belgarion’s impromptu thunderstorm last year appears to have had some far-reaching and near-disastrous effects on the continental weather-patterns, and Belgarath is furious. I do not envy my young friend the upcoming meeting with his grandfather. When provoked, the old man can peel off whole yards of skin, and he is at present mightily provoked.

  Prince Kheldar, still behaving for all the world like a visiting monarch, has visited Melcene, the home of the Mallorean Bureaucracy. He has established relations with the Bureau of Commerce there. If he is not so already, I suspect that it will not be long before the little bandit is the wealthiest man in the world. It makes me positively sick to think about it.

  Taiba and Relg have moved with their growing family to Maragor for reasons far too obscure for me to comprehend. The Tolnedrans, who have lurked hungrily on the borders of that haunted region, took this as a sign that the ghosts had departed. When they dashed in to gather up the gold lying all over the ground, however, they discovered that they had been grossly in error. The few who returned were all hopelessly insane. It appears that Mara still stands watch over Maragor.

  5384

  IT IS NOW eight years since the marriage of Belgarion and Ce’Nedra, and they remain childless. The business is rapidly becoming a matter of urgency. The Rivan King is the Keeper of the Orb, and he must have an heir. Even though Torak is gone, the forces ranged against us are too powerful for us to even consider facing them without the aid of the Orb, and only the King of Riva can wield it. I therefore summoned Brand and Cho-Hag and Porenn to Val Alorn this spring so that we might discuss the matter and decide what must be done. The immediate solution, of course, is for Belgarion to take another wife. Ce’Nedra’s barrenness is certainly reason enough for him to set her aside. He is extremely fond of her, however, and the proposal would have to be broached with some delicacy. Porenn raised all manner of objections. Although she is extraordinarily able as a ruler, she is nonetheless still a woman, and is therefore unable to see such matters without emotionality creeping in. She pointed out most eloquently that she herself had been childless for several years following her marriage to Rhodar and that it had been only with the guidance of Queen Layla that she had been able to become pregnant. She urged that before we suggest divorcement to Belgarion, we should consult with Layla and enlist her aid. She went on to suggest that should Layla fail, we should then appeal directly to Polgara, who now lives in the Vale with her husband, Durnik, and the strange, beautiful foundling they call Errand. Rhodar’s tiny little widow can be extremely forceful when she takes it into her head to be so. She stubbornly insisted that we take no steps with Belgarion until both Layla and Polgara have been unable to remedy Ce’Nedra’s childlessness. By custom, no action may be taken in concert by the Alorn rulers unless all of us agree, so Porenn had us over a barrel. She declared that she would refuse to agree until we met her conditions, and she even offered to go to Layla herself to present our request to the Sendarian Queen. Brand, of course, had no official standing at our meetings, but was present to protect Rivan interests in discussions to which Belgarion should probably not be privy. Brand has aged noticeably since the Battle of Thull Mardu. The death of his youngest son appears to have struck him to the heart. Cho-Hag, however, remains much the same—although his face is so weather-beaten that it would be well-nigh impossible to detect signs of aging upon it.

  Following our meetings, Porenn traveled to Sendar, and there she placed the entire business so forcefully to Layla that Fulrach’s plump little queen put aside her morbid fear of sea travel and left immediately for Riva to consult with Queen Ce’Nedra. I hope her efforts will be successful. Peculiarly, I find that I love the little Rivan Queen.

  She can be absolutely impossible, but at the same time completely adorable. Belgarion would be much poorer without her.

  The Vordues have set up what they call ‘the Kingdom of Vordue’ in northern Tolnedra. Varana is going to have to do something about that.

  This fall Prince Kheldar returned from Mallorea and, somewhat surprisingly, traveled directly to Boktor for discussions with Porenn rather than return to his base of operations in Gar og Nadrak. She advises me that our wily little friend traveled through the Dalasian protectorates in southwest Mallorea after his departure from Melcene and that what he saw there frightened him. I can’t for the life of me imagine anything sufficiently awful to frighten Kheldar. I think I’d better investigate.

  I’ve underestimated Varana. He’s almost as foxy as Ran Borune was. He has concluded a secret agreement with King Korodullin, and the Mimbrate Knights have been unleashed upon the ‘Kingdom of Vordue’. Varana steadfastly withholds the legions, piously proclaiming that he will not commit them against their own countrymen. The Mimbrates are tearing
up Vordue, and it will only be a matter of time before the Vorduvians will be forced to appeal to the Imperial Throne for protection. Varana will thus crush their rebellion without so much as dirtying his hands. Absolutely brilliant!

  5385

  KING DROSTA LEK THUN, the scabby monarch of Gar og Nadrak, has expropriated the holdings of Prince Kheldar and Yarblek. Kheldar, who was in the Vale of Aldur consulting with Belgarath and Polgara about what he saw in Dalasia, is positively livid with rage. I hold no particular brief for Drosta’s high-handed banditry, but I do take a certain amount of pleasure at Kheldar’s discomfort. The little thief was growing a bit too high and mighty for my taste. Driven a bit wild by Drosta’s open theft, Kheldar has forwarded a formal declaration of war to the palace at Yar Nadrak. How can a private citizen declare war on an entire kingdom? It’s an absurdity. Kheldar, however, appears to be dead serious about it, and he’s moving about in the west, recruiting an army in preparation for mounting an invasion. Drosta laughs uproariously, but if I were in his shoes, I’d be a little nervous. Even with his Nadrak holdings out of reach, Kheldar has vast sums at his disposal, and mercenaries are flocking to his banner.