David and Leigh Eddings – Belgarath the Sorcerer

with me, anyway. As soon as he finds out that I know he’s here, he’ll

probably go back to Rak Cthol where he belongs. Did he come here

alone?”

“No. He’s got a Grolim priest with him–a sycophant, obviously. If

Ctuchik decides to get belligerent, you’ll be up against two of them,

so I’d be a little careful.”

“Numbers don’t really mean all that much to me, Khaldan. Where’s the

Murgo enclave?”

“Over on the west side of the fair. Murgos live in black tents, so you

can’t miss it.”

“Good.” I stood up.

“I’ll be back in a little while.” I went outside his tent, remounted,

and rode on across the fair to the Murgo enclave.

“You there,” I said to the first Murgo I encountered.

“I need to talk with Achak. Where do I find him?”

“Achak doesn’t talk to foreigners,” he replied insolently.

“He’ll talk to me. Go tell him that Belgarath’s here to see him.”

His face went visibly pale, and he hurried off to a large tent in the

middle of the enclave. He came back a moment or so later, and his

manners had improved noticeably.

“He’ll see you,” he said.

“Somehow I thought he might. Lead the way, friend.”

He did that, though he didn’t seem to care much for the idea. I got

the feeling that he didn’t want to be within five miles of what he

expected to happen when I went into

“Achak’s” tent.

Ctuchik wasn’t alone. The Grolim Khaldan had mentioned was hovering in

the background with a servile expression on his face.

“Awfully good to see you again, old boy,” Ctuchik said with one of

those bleak smiles pasted to his too-thin face.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? I was beginning to think I might

have offended you.”

“Your very existence offends me, Ctuchik. What persuaded you to come

down off your mountaintop? Did the stink of your temple finally start

to turn your stomach?”

“Blasphemy!” the hovering Grolim gasped.

“Is he serving any purpose?” I asked Ctuchik, jerking my thumb at the

Grolim.

“He’s my apprentice, Belgarath. I’m teaching him the business.”

“Aren’t you getting a little above yourself, old boy? Are you taking

your own disciples now? Torak might not approve.”

“He’s a servant, Belgarath, not a disciple, and Torak more or less

allows us to do as we please. You might think about that the next time

Aldur sends you off on some fool’s errand. If you’d like to change

Masters, I could put in a good word for you.”

“One turncoat in the family’s quite enough, Ctuchik, and I’m not going

to change sides when I’m winning.”

“Are you winning, Belgarath? How strange that I hadn’t noticed that.

You might as well get to know my servant here. I expect you’ll be

seeing a lot of him from now on.” He looked at the Grolim.

“Chamdar, this is Belgarath, first disciple of the God Aldur. Don’t

let his foolish exterior deceive you. He can be troublesome at

times.”

“One does one’s best,” I said with a little smirk. I looked more

closely at the Grolim. He had scarred cheeks like a Murgo, but there

was something a bit different about him. There was a certain boldness

about him, and a burning ambition in his eyes that I don’t think

Ctuchik was aware of.

“You’re wasting your time here, Ctuchik,” I said then.

“You’re not going to find my daughter, no matter how many Murgos you

send west, and you’re certainly not going to find her yourself.

Something like that would have shown up in our instructions.”

“We’ll see,” he replied distantly.

“It was awfully good of you to stop by, old chap. I could have shown

Chamdar here a picture of you, but a picture wouldn’t have captured the

real you.”

I actually laughed.

“You’re sending a boy to do a man’s work, Ctuchik,” I told him.

“I’m not going to lead your underling anywhere near Polgara.”

“We’ll see about that, too. Sooner or later, something’s bound to come

up that’ll force you to go to where she is.”

“You’ve never met my daughter, Ctuchik. Believe me, she can take care

of herself. Why don’t you take your Grolim and go home? The Godslayer

is coming, and there’s not a thing you can do about it.”

“That particular EVENT hasn’t been decided yet, old boy.”

“It will be, old boy, and I don’t think you’re going to like the way it

turns out. Are you coming, Chamdar?”

“Coming?” he demanded, sounding baffled.

“Coming where?”

“Don’t be childish. As soon as I’m outside this tent, your Master’s

going to tell you to follow me. It’ll be much easier for both of us if

we just ride along together.”

“That’s for my Master to decide,” he replied coldly.

“Suit yourself. I’ll be riding south from here. If you happen to lose

track of me, I’ll be in Tol Honeth in a couple of weeks. Ask around

when you get there. I shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Then I turned and left the tent.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Polgara looked upon the centuries she was obliged to spend in the

boisterous Alorn kingdoms as a period of exile. Pol’s fond of

individual Alorns, but as a race they tend to set her teeth on edge.

She yearned to go back to Sendaria. The Sendars aren’t as courtly as

the Wacite Arends were, but they’re a polite, civil people, and

civility’s very important to my daughter.

I devoted quite a bit of time during those years providing

entertainment for the ambitious Chamdar. Every so often, I’d come out

of the Vale, randomly select some obscure village in Sendaria or

northern Arendia, and kill several Murgos there. Chamdar, of course,

would leap to the conclusion that I’d killed them because they were

getting too close to Polgara. He’d rush to the place and spend five or

six years following the various false trails I’d laid down for him.

Then the trails would peter out on him, and we’d start all over again

someplace else. I’m sure he knew exactly what I was doing, but he

didn’t have any choice but to respond.

The fact that he didn’t age over the centuries was an indication of

some status in Grolim society. He wasn’t exactly a disciple, but he

was the next thing to it, I suppose.

In the meantime, Polgara remained safe–if not content–in Cherek, or

Drasnia, or Algaria. Her common practice during those years was to

apprentice a youthful heir to some artisan in a village or small town;

and then when the young man reached maturity, she’d set him up in

business –much in the way she had with Darion in the forty-fifth

century. I never did find out where she got the money for all those

business ventures. She invariably posed as a member of the young man’s

family, an older sister, a cousin, very frequently an aunt, and even

once or twice as the young man’s mother. The families she thus created

were so ordinary that random travelers–or random Angaraks–probably

didn’t even notice them.

I’m sure it was all very tedious for her, but she’d taken on the chore

of hiding the heirs of her own free will, and Pol has a very strong

sense of responsibility.

My contribution–keeping Chamdar away from her–was fairly peripheral,

but I like to think that it helped, if only a little bit. I’d also

periodically look in on all those families I was juggling, and every

now and then I’d ease on down into Cthol Murgos to see what the

opposition was up to.

Murgo society is unlike any other on the face of the earth, largely

because it’s built along military lines. They don’t have

principalities down there; they have military districts instead, each

with its own general.

Because of the Murgo obsession with racial purity, Murgo women are kept

closely confined, so you never see any women on the streets–just men,

all in chain mail. Over the course of the centuries, the various

military commanders have passed the spurious crown of Cthol Murgos

around, so there’ve been Goska Dynasties, Cthan Dynasties, Hagga

Dynasties, and recently, Urga Dynasties. It didn’t really matter who

sat on the throne in Rak Goska, however, because Ctuchik has always

ruled Cthol Murgos from his turret in Rak Cthol.

The twins continued to work on their concordance, and Beldin maintained

his surveillance in Mallorea. Everything sort of plodded along until

the middle of the forty-ninth century with nothing very much

happening.

It was one of those quiet periods that crop up from time to time in the

history of the world. Then there was a total eclipse of the sun in the

spring of 4850. An eclipse isn’t all that unusual, so we didn’t pay

much attention to it–at least not at first. This one was fairly

unique, in that it seemed to trigger a significant climate change.

Would you believe that it rained off and on for twenty-five years? We

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *