David and Leigh Eddings – Belgarath the Sorcerer

debts.

Once he owned their obligations, he was in a position to put quite a

bit of pressure on the girl’s family.”

“What did he hope to gain from that?”

“Zakath came to the throne when he was eighteen or so, and it was

fairly common knowledge in Melcena that there was a marriage proposal

in the wind. Taur Urgas is a Murgo, so he’s abysmally ignorant of the

nature of the Melcenes. Murgo women are kept penned up and ignorant,

so they do what their families tell them to do. Obedience is beaten

into them from the cradle. A Murgo girl would cut her own throat if

her father told her to. Melcene girls are more spirited, but Taur

Urgas didn’t know that. He just assumed that the girl would do

whatever her family ordered her to do. He sent word to his people in

Melcene to give the girl’s family some very specific instructions and

to threaten to call in their debts if they didn’t obey. The family had

been scrambling round trying to raise enough money to pay off those

debts, but they needed more time, so they seemed to go along with the

plot.”

“This is starting to sound like a bad Arendish tragedy, Beldin,” I

observed.

“Oh, it gets even worse. Taur Urgas had a very simple plan to delete a

potential rival. He sent one of the more potent Nyissan poisons to a

nephew of his in the city of Melcene–along with some very blunt

instructions.

The girl was supposed to encourage Zakath’s attentions and then to

poison him at the first opportunity. A nice obedient Murgo girl would

have done exactly that, but a Melcene girl would have refused. Taur

Urgas is so crazy that he couldn’t tell the difference. The girl’s

family was still playing for time, so they pretended to agree.

Unfortunately, there are always a few black sheep in any flock, and an

unscrupulous fellow in one of the minor branches of the family saw a

chance to make a killing.”

Beldin made a sour face.

“Bad choice of words there, perhaps.”

“I think I see where this is going.”

“I thought you might. Anyway, this devious scoundrel sold the details

of the plot to some government officials, and the word filtered up to

Zakath himself. Despite his civilized manner, Zakath’s still an

Angarak, so he immediately went up in flames. Without even thinking,

he ordered the extermination of every member of that Melcene family.

His underlings–also Angaraks–followed his orders to the letter. The

girl was among the first to fall. When the information came to light

later that she’d been totally innocent, Zakath quite nearly went mad

with grief and remorse. He locked himself in his room for about six

months, and when he came out, he was an entirely different man. Before

the incident, he seemed to be a civilized, enlightened sort of fellow

who probably would have made a good emperor. Now he’s an absolute

monster who rules Mallorea with an iron fist, and he’s obsessed with

the idea of doing some very unpleasant things to Taur Urgas.”

“More power to him.” I approved.

“If I weren’t so busy right now, I might offer to lend him a hand.”

“You can be nasty when you set your mind to it, Belgarath, but you’re

no match for Zakath. He sent Taur Urgas a letter after he came out of

seclusion, and he ordered copies of the letter widely circulated–just

to add to the insult, I’d imagine. I got my hands on a copy.” He

reached inside his ragged tunic and brought out a folded piece of

paper.

“Would you like to read the most insulting letter one reigning monarch

has ever sent to another?”

I took the paper, unfolded it, and read.

“To His Majesty, Taur Urgas of Murgodom,” it began.

I was unamused by your recent attempt to influence Mallorean internal

affairs, you Murgo dog. Were it not for current world conditions, I

would bring the entire weight of my empire down upon your head for your

offense.

To insure that there will be no recurrence of this affair, I have taken

all Murgos within my boundaries into custody to serve as hostages to

your continued good behavior. I am advised that several of these

internees are closely related to you. Should you instigate further

adventures in my realm, I shall return your kinsmen to you–piece by

piece.

In the past, your madness has filled your world with imagined enemies.

Rejoice, Taur Urgas, and put aside your insanity, for you now have a

real foe, far more deadly than any of the phantoms of your lunacy. You

may be assured that as soon as world conditions permit, I will descend

upon you and that stinking wasteland you rule. It is my firm intention

to destroy you and your entire vile race. It will be my pleasure to

exterminate every last Murgo from the face of the world and to expunge

every mention of your people from the record of human history.

Keep a watchful eye over your shoulder, you madman, for as surely as

the sun rises tomorrow, one day I will be there to administer the

punishment you so richly deserve.

Zakath.

I whistled and handed the letter back.

“That comes very close to being an open declaration of war,” I said.

“Impressive, wot?” Beldin agreed with a broad grin.

“I may just frame it and hang it on the wall in my tower. I’ve heard

that Taur Urgas was frothing at the mouth and chewing up the carpet

before he even finished reading it. Zakath’s been carrying out his

threat, too. He’s been sending bits and pieces of assorted Murgos to

Rak Goska for the edification of the Murgo King. Urvon’s been trying

to make peace between the two of them, but he’s not making much

progress. Zakath’s heart’s been turned to stone, and Taur Urgas is

getting crazier by the minute.”

“I’ll pass this on to Rhodar,” I said.

“Drasnian intelligence might be able to keep the pot boiling. Is

Ctuchik doing anything?”

“Ctuchik’s your responsibility, Belgarath. I did hear that he’d formed

a Council of Hierarchs, though. I don’t know that they’ll ever be very

significant, Grolim politics being what they are. I saw several Murgo

caravans on the south trail as I came across. Are they up to

something?”

I nodded.

“They’re coming west in droves, pretending to be interested in trade.

It’s probably Chamdar’s idea. He can read the signs as well as we can,

so he knows we’re getting close. Evidently he wants lots of help.”

“Where is he now?”

“In Tolnedra, last I heard. Drasnian intelligence is keeping track of

him for me.”

“You’ve got just about everybody in the West doing your work for you,

haven’t you, Belgarath?”

“It’s called “delegating responsibility,” brother. There’s a lot going

on right now, so I have to stay flexible.”

“Somehow I knew you’d have some facile explanation for the fact that

you’re loafing. Don’t get too comfortable, Belgarath. When the time

comes, you might just have to be in six or eight places all at the same

time.

Let’s go see the twins. This business between Zakath and Taur Urgas

might have shaken a few more clues out of the Mrin.”

It hadn’t, though. The Mrin Codex remained as intractable as always.

I could only assume that the Necessity knew what it was doing and that

it was deliberately keeping me in the dark.

I don’t think any of us have ever given full credit to the twins for

their patient centuries of labor. That pair of gentle Alorn shepherds

have been so vital to what the rest of us have done that in a rather

special way, they’ve been our guides. We run around the world in

response to what they discover. The Necessity usually doesn’t bother

to talk to us. It talks to the twins instead. They’ve worn out six or

eight copies of the Mrin and the Darine over the years, and the Gods

know that I wouldn’t have had that kind of patience, and neither would

Beldin. To this very day, if the twins told me to jump, I’d be about

four feet up in the air before I even bothered to ask

“Which way?” That’s probably what Aldur had in mind when he first sent

for them. The Master’s at least as much a slave to the Necessity as

the rest of us are. That’s why we’re all here, I guess.

Beldin remained in the Vale for a week or so, and then he returned to

southern Cthol Murgos to take up his lonely vigil over our Master’s

sleeping brother. Not long after he left, I went to Boktor to advise

Rhodar of the contention between Zakath and Taur Urgas, King Rhodar

wasn’t getting any slimmer, but his mind seemed to be growing even

faster than his waistline. He squinted at me shrewdly after I’d told

him of the recent events in Mallorea.

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