David and Leigh Eddings – Belgarath the Sorcerer

battle exhaust us, Eldallan will descend upon Vo Mimbre with all his

might. Moreover, since he is Asturian, it is well within the realm of

possibility that he hath concluded some secret accord with Kal Torak to

betray us at a crucial moment during the battle.”

I sent my thought out to my daughter.

“You’d better head that off immediately, Pol. This entire alliance is

teetering in the balance here.”

“Right,” she replied. She looked at the two of them with artfully

feigned astonishment.

“I can scarce believe mine ears,” she told them.

“Are ye truly so timid? Is the legendary bravery of Mimbrates no more

than a sham? Doth the antagonism of a few Asturian outlaws so greatly

concern ye? He, gentlemen, fie! These womanish suspicions bring shame

upon the both of ye!”

I almost choked. That wasn’t the way I’d have done it. If that was

Polgara’s idea of the best way to smooth things over, she and I needed

to have a long talk.

Astonishingly, it worked. She continued to berate them until she had

them squirming like a couple of embarrassed schoolboys, and then she

let the matter drop.

Duke Eldallan arrived on the stroke of noon, and he had his daughter,

Mayaserana, with him. The implications of that were obvious. He was

offering himself and his daughter up as hostages as proof of his good

faith. Rather astonishingly, Aldorigen got his point immediately.

Mayaserana had grown considerably since I’d last seen her. She was

almost eighteen now, and astonishingly beautiful, a fact that

Korodullin noticed right away. Her beauty was only slightly marred by

the fact that her large, dark eyes were as hard as agates.

“I’ll get right to the point here, Aldorigen,” Eldallan said briskly

after he and his daughter had been escorted into the throne room under

heavy guard.

“You and I aren’t particularly fond of each other, so there’s no point

in dragging it out. I’ve given my word to her Grace, the Duchess of

Erat, that I’ll come to your aid when Kal Torak assaults your city, and

I’ll do that. In return, however, I want your oath that when the

battle’s done, my people will be permitted to return to Asturia

unmolested by Mimbrate knights.”

“Asturia no longer exists,” Korodullin asserted.

“Come up to our forest and say that, foolish boy,” Mayaserana told

him.

“Mimbrate bones are turning green and mossy under every bush. One more

set won’t seriously add to the clutter.”

They were getting along just splendidly.

Polgara stepped in at that point and badgered Eldallan and Al dorigen

into exchanging oaths. Eldallan swore to take his assigned place

beside the Rivans and Sendars on Kal Torak’s north flank, and Alodrigen

vowed that the Mimbrate knights wouldn’t interfere with the Asturians

on their way home. The entire matter could have been resolved by the

Sendarian intermediaries, of course, but Eldallan had another reason

for coming to Vo Mimbre. He broached it after he and Aldorigen had

exchanged oaths.

“It occurs to me that we’ve got too good an opportunity to pass up,

Aldorigen,” he said in an insolent tone of voice.

“I will hear thy words, Eldallan.” Aldorigen’s tone was cool and

offensively superior.

“Whole generations are likely to pass before the rulers of Mimbre and

Asturia are so conveniently close to each other, wouldn’t you say?”

Aldorigen’s eyes brightened.

“A most acute perception, my Lord,”

he replied. It was the first time either of them had addressed the

other with any kind of respect.

“Why not seize the day, my Lord?” Eldallan suggested.

“Once we’ve eliminated the annoyance of Kal Torak, you and I could go

to some private place and discuss our differences–at length.” He laid

his hand suggestively on the hilt of his sheathed rapier.

“I’m sure you’ll find my arguments very pointed.”

An almost beneficent smile came over Aldorigen’s face.

“What a splendid suggestion, my Lord,” he said warmly.

“Until that day, then, my Lord,” Eldallan said with a deep bow.

“Stay out of it, Poll” I sent the thought out sharply.

“This is supposed to happen!”

The thought she threw back at me doesn’t bear repeating.

“And you, rash youth, will stay away when our fathers meet,”

Mayaserana said to Korodullin.

“I’m Asturian, and my hand was built to hold a bow. Your bones can

turn green here in Mimbre just as well as they can in Asturia.”

“Come not within bow-shot of my father, outlaw wench,” he replied, “not

if thou wilt have further need of thine head.”

Then Eldallan and his feisty daughter were escorted out.

“Now is my day complete!” Aldorigen exulted.

“Were it not so unnatural, I could almost embrace that foul villain,

Eldallan!”

Arends, I sighed, rolling my scroll back up.

It took Kal Torak another week to reach the upper end of that large

plain that surrounds Vo Mimbre, and he stopped there to regroup and to

send out scouts. I started getting nervous at that point.

“What’s keeping you?” I threw the thought at Beldin.

“I’ve still got ten legions coming down the river,” he replied.

“Beldin, Torak’s almost in my lap here! Can’t you send the ones you’ve

already got on hand?”

“Didn’t we decide not to do it that way? Torak’s not going to be very

intimidated by the legions if I just dribble them in. The whole force

has to arrive at the same time.”

“How much longer before you’ll be able to sail?”

“A couple of days. Then Eldrig’s got to pick up the Imperial Guard at

Tol Honeth and those training legions there and at Tol Vordue. Give us

a week.”

“If Torak starts his attack in the next day or so, you’ll get here

after it’s all over. The Mrin says that the battle’s going to last for

three days. The first two days will probably only be skirmishes, but

you absolutely must be here on that third day.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you, then. All you’ve got to do is

keep him away from the walls of Vo Mimbre for five days. Then fight

him for the first two days of the battle. I’ll be there on the third

day, and we can get down to business.”

“Don’t be late.”

“Trust me.”

I went to the door of my room in Aldorigen’s palace.

“I need a large current map of southern Arendia,” I told the sentry

patrolling the hallway.

“At once, Holy Belgarath,” he replied, clashing one steel-gauntleted

fist against his breastplate. Mimbrates are so noisy!

When he returned with the map, I spread it out on the table and got

down to work. The more I studied the map, the more feasible the

half-formed plan in my mind began to seem.

“Polgara,” I silently called my daughter.

“I need you.”

It only took her a couple of minutes to reach my door.

“Yes, father?”

she said.

“I want you to go have a talk with Eldallan,” I instructed.

“I need a thousand or so of his archers. Beldin’s still a week away,

so we’ve got to delay Torak for five days.”

“I don’t think a thousand bowmen could quite manage that, father.”

“They can if the people they’re shooting at are out in the middle of a

river trying to rebuild a bridge.” I showed her the map.

“There are a dozen tributaries feeding down into the River Arend,” I

pointed out, “and twenty-five years of steady rain has them all running

bank-full. I’m going to have Aldorigen send out a force of Mimbrates

to destroy the bridges. I want archers on the west banks of those

streams. It’s very hard to concentrate on building bridges when it’s

raining arrows. That might just delay Torak for the five days we

need.”

“I’d imagine so, yes. You can be a very nasty old man when you set

your mind to it.”

“I try.” I scowled at the map for a moment.

“You’ll have to stay with those archers,” I decided, “and I’ll be with

the Mimbrates. The two forces have to be coordinated, and direct

contact between Mimbrates and Asturians isn’t a very good idea. Get

started, Pol. I’ll go explain the plan to Aldorigen.”

It just so happened that the commander of the Asturian archers Pol

brought down onto the eastern side of the plain of Mimbre was a fiery

young nobleman, the Baron of Wildantor, and the knight who led my

Mimbrate bridge-wreckers was the Baron of Vo Mandor. Garion’s friend

can be very obvious at times. Pol and I were careful to keep

Mandorallen’s ancestor some distance away from Leildorin’s. I’d

devoted a lot of time to those two families, so I didn’t want any

accidents.

Our strategy wasn’t particularly profound. We advanced eastward until

we began encountering Kal Torak’s scouts. The Mimbrate knights

trampled them under, and we pressed on, crossing bridges every few

miles. When we began to encounter stiffer resistance, the archers

raked the opposing force with arrows, and then the Mimbrates charged.

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