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