David and Leigh Eddings – Belgarath the Sorcerer

Chamdar added quite a few items that aren’t a part of standard cult

dogma. Just to be on the safe side, though, I think I’ll have a talk

with the Alorn kings. I think it might be time for the cult to be put

down again.” I looked around at the trees.

“We’ve got things to do. Why don’t we go back to town?”

“In a moment, father,” Pol said.

“Chamdar had Gelane almost totally under his control for several

months. I want to make sure that his hold’s completely broken.”

“That’s probably not a bad idea, Pol,” I agreed.

“This won’t hurt, Gelane,” she assured him. Then she reached out and

took his right hand–the one with that characteristic mark on the

palm–and touched it to the white lock in her hair. Her eyes grew

momentarily distant, and Gelane’s went very wide. I got the distinct

impression that their minds had never overtly touched before. Then

Polgara lightly kissed his cheek.

“A few hints is about all, father,” she told me, “and they’re already

fading. I doubt that Chamdar could compel him to raise even one finger

right now.”

“Good. Let’s head back to town and start getting you packed. We’ll

set out for the capital at Sendar first thing in the morning. I’ll

find some Cherek sea captain and arrange passage to Val Alorn.”

“Through the Bore?” Pol said with some distaste.

“It’s the shortest way to get there, Pol, and I want to get back as

soon as I can. I’d like to run Chamdar to ground someplace and get him

out of our hair once and for all.”

“Yes!” Gelane said fervently.

It didn’t work out that way, of course. Asharak the Murgo had

something very important still left to do. His death was the thing

that opened Garion’s mind and set him on the course to where he is

right now.

This is not to say that I didn’t spend a couple of years looking for

the elusive Grolim. I finally gave up in disgust and went back to the

Vale. Pol, Gelane, and their little family took up residence in a

small farming village about ten miles outside Val Alorn, and they were

fairly safe there–if anyplace in the world was truly safe for

Iron-grip’s heir.

Beldin had returned from Mallorea during the course of my search for

Ctuchik’s underling, and he stopped by my tower on the morning after I

finally got back home. He said some very uncomplimentary things to me

after I told him about how Chamdar’d tricked me, but I didn’t really

take offense–I’d already said things to myself that were far worse. I

let him ramble on until he started repeating himself, and then I cut

in.

“What’s happening in Mallorea?” I asked him.

“Do you remember that young man in Mal Zeth that I told you about?” he

replied.

“The grandson of the old emperor Torak deposed when he left Ashaba?”

“Vaguely. His name’s Korzeth, isn’t it?”

“That’s the name they gave him when he was born. There are a lot of

people in Mallorea who are calling him other names right now, though.

When he turned fourteen, he set his grandfather aside and took the

crown for himself. In some ways, he’s as cold-blooded as Torak

himself. I don’t know why he wanted the throne. He never sits on it.

He’s spending all his time in the saddle now, and he’s reunifying

Mallorea. The whole continent’s running ankle-deep in blood. Korzeth

doesn’t even bother to ask people if they want to accept his rule. He

just kills everybody in sight.

He’ll have an empire when he’s done. There won’t be very many people

in it, but he’ll own all the ground, at least.”

“I’d say that sort of diminishes the Mallorean threat,” I noted

approvingly.

“Is Zedar still holed up in that cave with Torak’s body?”

“He was, the last time I looked. I flew over there on my way home.”

“Are the Murgos doing anything worth mentioning?”

“Fortifying the walls of their cities is about all. I think they’re

expecting an invasion.”

“Why would we want to do that? We accomplished everything we needed to

at Vo Mimbre.”

“The Murgos aren’t so much worried about us as they are about Ran

Borune. After those two disasters, there aren’t really very many

Murgos left, and they do have all those gold mines. I guess they

expect Ran Borune to start biting large chunks out of the middle of

Cthol Murgos.”

“Any idea of what Ctuchik’s up to?”

“Haven’t got a clue. As far as I know, he’s holed up at Rak Cthol.

Urvon’s made it back to Mal Yaska, and he’s sitting tight, as well. I

think that Vo Mimbre persuaded the Angaraks to give peace a chance.”

“Good. I need a rest anyway. Have you got any definite plans?”

“I think I’ll go back to southern Cthol Murgos and keep an eye on

Zedar. If he decides to move old Burnt-face, I’d like to know about

it.”

After Beldin left, I loafed around my tower, intermittently cleaning up

several decades’ worth of dust and debris. I didn’t make a major

project out of it, though. I usually can find something more

interesting to do than housecleaning.

I’d been home for about a month when the twins came over to my tower

one fine morning in late spring.

“We’ve found something rather puzzling in the Darine, Belgarath,”

Beltira told me.

“Oh?”

“It mentions a couple of “helpers.” They won’t be as significant as

the Guide or the Horse-Lord or any of the others, but they will be

making a contribution.”

“I’ll take all the help I can get. What’s so puzzling about them?”

“As closely as we can make out, they’re going to be Nadraks.”

“Nadraks?” I was a bit startled by that,

“Why would any Angaraks want to help us?”

“The Darine doesn’t say, and we haven’t found the corresponding passage

in the Mrin yet.”

I thought about it for a few moments.

“Nadraks have never really been all that fond of Murgos or Thulls,” I

mused.

“Now that Torak’s been put to sleep, they might decide to strike out on

their own. I’m not doing anything right now, anyway. Maybe I ought to

go have a look.”

“These “helpers” won’t have emerged yet,” Belkira pointed out.

“And we don’t know anything at all about the families they’ll descend

from.”

“You’re probably right there,” I admitted, “but if I nose around a bit,

I might be able to get a sense of the general sentiments among the

Nadraks.”

“It couldn’t hurt, I suppose,” Beltira agreed.

“I’ll check in with you from time to time,” I promised.

“Let me know if you find anything in the Mrin. A few more details

might help me to locate those families.”

There wasn’t anything particularly urgent about this project, as far as

I could tell, so I stopped by the Stronghold as I went north and bought

a horse. There’s quite a bit of effort involved in traveling the other

way, and I was feeling a little lazy.

It took me several weeks to reach Boktor, which the Drasnians were busy

rebuilding. In a certain sense, Kal Torak had done the Drasnians a

favor when he destroyed all their cities. Alorn cities have always

tended to sprawl out, and the streets follow whichever cow path happens

to be handy. Now the Drasnians had the chance to start fresh and

actually plan their cities. I found Rhodar conferring with a number of

architects. They were having a fairly heated discussion about

boulevards, as I recall. One school favored wide, straight streets.

The other preferred narrow, crooked ones, justifying the inconvenience

with the word “coziness.”

“What do you think, Belgarath?” Rhodar asked me.

“It all depends on whether you want to build another Tol Honeth or

another Val Alorn, I guess,” I replied.

“Tol Honeth, I think,” Rhodar said.

“Tolnedrans have always looked down their noses at us because of the

way our cities look. I get very tired of being referred to as

“quaint.”

“Have you had any contacts with the Nadraks since the war?” I asked

him.

“Nothing official. There’s a little bit of trade along the border, and

there are always gold hunters in the Nadrak Mountains. The gold

deposits aren’t as extensive as the ones in southern Cthol Murgos, but

there’s enough gold up there to attract people from other countries.”

That gave me an idea.

“I think you’ve just solved a problem for me, Rhodar.”

“Oh?”

“I need to have a look around over there in Gar og Nadrak, and I’d like

to be sort of inconspicuous. The Nadraks are probably used to seeing

foreigners up in those mountains, so I think I’ll get a pick and shovel

and go looking for gold.”

“That’s very tedious work, Belgarath.”

“Not the way I’m going to do it.”

“I didn’t quite follow that.”

“I’m not really all that interested in gold. All I’m going to do is

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