two Necessities had been that simple. Torak had been the result of a
mistake. Eriond was the correction of that mistake. Ce’Nedra, perhaps
instinctively, had seen that. The Godslayer had somehow missed it.
“Some times you’re so clever that you almost make me sick,” he told his
wife with just a hint of spite.
“Yes,” she replied blandly,
“I know. But you still love me, don’t you?” She gave him that winsome
little smile that always made his knees go weak.
“Of course,” he replied, trying to look stern and regal.
“What did grandfather have to say in the letter he sent you?”
“I thought it was pure nonsense, but now that I see how he ended this
thing, I can see what he was driving at. Here.” She handed him a
folded sheet of paper.
“Yes, Ce’Nedra,” the letter began,
“I know that the story’s not complete.
You all got together and bullied me into doing this. You’ve got this
much out of me, and that’s as far as I’m willing to go. If you want
the rest, go bully Polgara. I wish you all the luck in the world with
that little project. Don’t expect much help from me, though. I’m old
enough to know when I’m well off. Belgarath.”
“I’d better start packing,” Ce’Nedra said after her husband had
finished reading the letter.
“Packing? Where are we going?”
“To Aunt Pol’s cottage, of course.”
“That went by me a little fast, Ce’Nedra. This isn’t that urgent is
it?
Do we really have to dash off to the north end of the Vale in the dead
of winter?”
“I want the rest of the story, Garion. I don’t really care about how
drunk Belgarath got after he lost his wife–I want to know about
Polgara. That’s the part of the story that your disreputable old
grandfather left out.” She slapped her hand rather disdainfully down
on Belgarath’s manuscript. “This is only half of it. I want
Polgara’s half–and I am going to get it, even if I have to drag it
out of her.”
“We’ve got responsibilities here, Ce’Nedra, and Aunt Pol’s busy with
her children. She doesn’t have time to write her life story just for
your entertainment.”
“That’s just too bad, isn’t it? Is Greldik still sober?”
“I doubt it. You know how Greldik is when he makes port. Can’t we
talk this over a bit?”
“No. Go find Greldik and start sobering him up. I’ll go pack. I want
to leave on the morning tide.”
Garion sighed.
“Yes, dear,” he said.
Aldurford. Someone might make the connection. I think we’d better
start fresh somewhere.”
“Where did you have in mind?”
“I think I’ll go back to Sendaria. After Vo Mimbre, there aren’t going
to be any Grolims around to worry about.”
“That’s your decision, Pol. Gelane’s your responsibility, so whatever
you decide is all right with me.”
“Oh, thank you, father!” she said with a certain amount of sarcasm.
“Oh, one other thing.”
“Yes?”
“Stay out of my hair, Old Wolf, and this time I mean it.”
“Whatever you say, Polgara.” I didn’t really mean it, of course, but I
said it anyway. It was easier than arguing with her.