representative of his race. More often than not his tankard held water
instead of beer, for one thing, and he was a scholarly man, for
another. He was a great deal like Anheg in that respect. About the
only difference is the fact that Anheg will take a drink on occasion.
“Arendia?” he said when I told him what was coming.
“That’s what the Mrin says.”
“Are you sure? Torak’s coming west to get the Orb, isn’t he? The
Orb’s not in Arendia; it’s at Riva.”
“The twins are still hammering at the Mrin. They might be able to dig
out an explanation. All we’ve got so far is the fact that the event’s
going to take place in the lands of the children of the Bull God.
Unless something’s changed, that means Arendia.”
Eldrig scratched at his iron-grey hair and stared at his map.
“I suppose Torak could swing through Mimbre and then turn north to the
hook of Arendia to come at the Isle from the south. If we just
happened to be in his way, there could be some kind of confrontation
down there.”
I also looked at his map.
“There’s no real point in running off there until Torak makes his
move,” I said.
“You’d better get word to Brand. Tell him that I’ll come to the Isle
in a little bit. I’ve got a couple of other things to attend to
first.”
“Do you think I should seal off the Isle?” he asked.
“We’ll have to do that eventually, but let’s not upset the Tolnedrans
by making them shut down their shops on the beach at Riva just yet.
We’ll need the legions before this is over, so we don’t want Ran
Borune’s nose getting out of joint. We’ll have plenty of time to fill
the Sea of the Winds with war-boats when Torak starts to move, and
Beldin’ll give us plenty of warning when that happens.”
“I wish we had more to work with.”
“So do I, but for right now, we’ve got enough to get started. Oh, you
might want to warn Ormik of Sendaria, as well.”
“You’re not serious!”
“The Sendars live here, too, Eldrig.”
“Cabbage farmers won’t be much good in a fight.”
“Maybe not, but if all this shapes up the way I think it’s going to,
we’ll probably have to go through Sendaria from time to time, so let’s
stay on Ormik’s good side.”
“Anything you say, Ancient One.” He leaned back in his chair. King
Eldrig had grey hair, but the grin he suddenly flashed at me was
surprisingly youthful.
“This is the one we’ve been waiting for, isn’t it, Belgarath?” he
said.
“One of them, I suppose. I think there’ll be others, as well.”
“One’s enough for right now. I wouldn’t want to seem greedy. This is
the one we’ve been expecting since the days of Bear-shoulders, so
that’s good enough for me.”
“Talk to me about how lucky you are after the war, Eldrig. The last
one wasn’t too pleasant, as I recall. Start getting your people ready,
and dip into your treasury so that you can hire shipbuilders. I might
need more war boats.”
He winced.
“Maybe I can float a loan from Ran Borune.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it, and you wouldn’t care for his interest rates.
Get started, Eldrig. I’ll be in touch.”
I left Val Alorn and flew southeast to Aldurford in northern Algaria to
talk with Polgara. Her house was near the ford itself, so I strolled
on down through the town to the river. With the exception of the
Stronghold, Aldurford is just about the only town in Algaria, and it
shows.
Algars have a rather haphazard idea about what a town ought to look
like. The notion of regular streets hasn’t really caught on, and the
citizens of Aldurford have built their houses wherever it suited them.
It makes finding your way around a bit challenging.
Eventually I located Pol’s house and knocked on the door. She opened
it almost immediately. As usual, she was dressed all in blue, and she
greeted me in her usual gracious fashion.
“Where have you been?”
she demanded.
“I’ve been expecting you for two weeks now.”
“I had to go talk with some Alorns.” I looked past her into her
kitchen. There was a boy of about eleven sitting at the table. It
wasn’t hard to recognize him, since all of Iron-grip’s descendants have
looked much the same. He had sandy-colored hair and that same serious
expression they’ve all had. There was a melancholy Algar woman with
long dark hair shelling peas at the table with him. I was never
certain just how much Pol had told the various heirs she raised, so I
thought it might be best if she and I spoke privately.
“Let’s take a little walk, Pol,” I suggested.
“We’ve got some fairly important decisions to make.”
She glanced over her shoulder, nodded, fetched a shawl, and came
outside.
“What happened to his father?”
“He died,” she replied shortly, and that same old sorrow was in her
voice.
“What’s the boy’s name?”
“Garel. He’s the heir.”
“Obviously.”
I could see that she didn’t want to talk, so we walked on in silence.
We went along the riverbank until we were well beyond the last of the
houses. The perpetual clouds that had obscured the sky for months had
broken for a brief period, and it was actually sunny. A breeze was
rippling the surface of the water. I looked out across the broad river
and had one of those peculiar little shocks of recognition. I was
almost positive that it had been on the far bank that the funny old man
in the rickety cart had given me instructions about the breakup of
Aloria after Cherek and the boys and I had returned from Cthol Mishrak
about twenty-nine centuries back.
“What’s the matter?” Pol asked curiously.
I shrugged.
“Nothing important. I’ve been here before, that’s all. I gather you
know what’s happened?”
She nodded.
“The twins told me. They couldn’t locate you, so they asked me to pass
a few things on to you.”
“Oh?”
“They’ve managed to extract some more information out of the Mrin.
Brand’s going to be the Child of Light during this particular
EVENT.”
“Brand?”
“That’s what the Mrin says. The passage reads,
“And let him who stands in the stead of the Guardian meet the Child of
Dark in the domain of the Bull God.” That has to mean Brand, doesn’t
it?”
“I don’t see how it could mean anybody else. Evidently there’s going
to be a suspension of the rules–enough to allow Brand to take up
Riva’s sword, at any rate.”
“The twins didn’t say. They’re still working on that part, I guess.
There’s more.”
“There almost has to be. Give me your hand, Pol. I think I’d better
talk with the twins directly, and we both need to hear what they
say.”
She nodded and held out her hand to me. For any number of reasons, Pol
and I have rarely touched each other over the years, and we’ve even
more rarely linked our minds in order to do something. Once again I
was startled by the breadth and depth of my daughter’s mind, and by its
exquisite subtlety. What struck me the most, however, was her deep
sadness. I think we all overlooked the fact that the task she’d freely
accepted involved rearing a long series of little boys, watching them
grow up, get married, and then grow old and die. The vaults of her
mind echoed with an unremitting sorrow that nothing could ever
dispel.
Once our minds were linked, we sent out our combined voices.
“Brothers.”
“Belgarath?” Beltira’s voice came back to us.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at Aldurford. Pol’s with me. Could you clarify a few things for
us?”
“Of course.”
“Have you found out how Brand’s supposed to use the Orb yet?”
“No. It’s very difficult going here, Belgarath. I think this is going
to be a major EVENT. The Mrin always gets very obscure when we come to
one of those.”
“Any hints about what I’m supposed to do?”
“You and Pol are supposed to go to Riva to meet with the Alorn kings.
Oh, something else, too. You’re supposed to take Iron-grip’s heir to
the Stronghold before you go to Riva.”
“Out of the question!” Pol’s voice overrode mine.
“The Stronghold’s directly in Torak’s path.”
“I’m just passing on what the Mrin says, Pol,” Beltira replied.
“It says,
“And the Guardian shall take refuge in the fortress of the Horse
People, for all the might of the Dark Child shall not prevail against
its walls.” You’re probably right. Torak’s going to lay siege to the
Stronghold, but he’s not going to be able to storm it under.”
“I don’t like it,” she fumed.
“It does make sense, Pol,” I told her, speaking aloud.
“You and I have to go to Riva, and that wouldn’t be a safe place for