“It varies. You were, while you and Zedar were scuffling up in
Morindland. The Necessities can’t meet directly, so they have to
function through agents. I think I’ve explained this to you before.”
I nodded glumly. I wasn’t happy about this particular turn of
events.
“There’s going to be an ultimate Child of Light, however,” he went on,
“and an ultimate Child of Dark. They’re the ones who’ve going to
settle everything once and for all. It’s your job to prepare for the
coming of the Child. Keep an eye on Riva. The Child will descend from
him.”
“Won’t I ever see you again?”
He smiled faintly.
“Of course you will. I’ve spent too much time raising you to turn you
loose. Pay close attention to your dreams, Belgarath. I won’t be able
to come back directly–at least not very often–so I’ll talk with you
while you’re asleep.”
“That’s something, anyway. Is that how you’re going to guide us,
through our dreams?”
“You’ll be guided by the Necessity. The Second Age that the Dals talk
about is over now. This is the Third Age, the Age of Prophecy. The
two Necessities are going to inspire certain people to predict the
future.”
I saw the flaw in that immediately.
“Isn’t that sort of dangerous?” I asked.
“That’s not the sort of information we’d want just anybody to get his
hands on.”
“That’s already been taken care of, my son. The rest of mankind won’t
understand what the predictions mean. They’ll be obscure enough so
that most people will think that they’re just the ravings of assorted
madmen. Tell your Alorns to watch for them and to write down what they
say if it’s at all possible. There’ll be hidden messages in them.”
“It’s a cumbersome way to do business, Master.”
“I know, but it’s part of the rules.”
“I’m not so sure that the rules are holding, Master. The other side
started cheating when we were in Cthol Mishrak.”
“That was Torak. His Necessity apologized for that. Torak’s being
punished for it.”
“Good. What am I supposed to do now? I really ought to get back to
Poledra, you know.”
He sighed.
“That’s going to have to wait, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, Belgarath–more
sorry than you could possibly know–but you haven’t finished yet. You
still have to divide up Aloria.”
“I have to do what?” He explained it to me–at some length.
It’s my story, and I’ll tell it the way I want to. If you don’t like
the way I’m telling it, tell it yourself.
After he’d given me my instructions, the old man fed his horse and then
drove his cart off toward the south, leaving me with only the snoring
Alorns for company. I didn’t bother to wake them, and they slept
straight on through until the following morning.
“Where’s your friend?” Cherek asked when they finally woke up.
“He had something to attend to,” I replied.
“Well, it’s all over then, isn’t it?” Dras said.
“It’ll be good to get back to Val Alorn.”
“You aren’t going to Val Alorn, Dras,” I told him.
“What?”
“You’re going back up to those moors we just came across.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Because I’m telling you to do it.” I was a little blunt about it. I
wasn’t in a very good humor that morning. I looked at
Bear-shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Cherek,” I told him, “but I’m going to have to split up
your kingdom. The Angaraks aren’t just going to let this slide, so
we’re going to have to get ready for them. Riva’s guarding the Orb, so
the rest of you are going to have to guard him. I’m going to spread
you out so that Torak’s people can’t slip up on Riva and steal back the
Orb.”
“How long’s that likely to take?” Cherek asked me.
“How long until I can put my kingdom back together again?”
“You’re not going to be able to do that, I’m afraid. The division of
Aloria’s going to be permanent.”
“Belgarath!” He said it plaintively, almost like a child protesting
the removal of his favorite toy.
“It’s out of my hands, Cherek. You’re the one who came up with the
idea of stealing the Orb. Now you’re going to have to live with the
consequences. Dras has to establish his own kingdom on the north
moors.
Algar’s going to have his down here on these grasslands. You’re going
back to Val Alorn. Your kingdom’s going to be that peninsula.”
“Kingdom?” he exploded.
“That’s hardly bigger than a clothes closet!”
“Don’t worry about it. Your kingdom’s the ocean now. Call your
shipbuilders together. Those scows they’ve been building aren’t good
enough. I’ll draw up some plans for you. The king of the Ocean’s
going to need war boats, not floating bathtubs.”
His eyes narrowed speculatively.
“The king of the Ocean,” he mused.
“That’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Can you really make war
with boats, though?”
“Oh, yes,” I assured him.
“And the nice part of it is that you don’t have to walk to get to the
battlefield.”
“Where do you want me to go, Belgarath?” Riva asked me.
“I’ll show you myself. I’m supposed to go with you to help you get set
up.”
“Thanks, but where are we going?”
“To the Isle of the Winds.”
“That’s nothing but a rock out in the middle of the Great Western
Sea!,” he objected.
“I know, but it’s your rock. You’re going to take a sizable number of
Alorns and go there. You volunteered to pick up the Orb. Now it’s
your responsibility. When we get to the Isle, you’re going to build a
fortress, and you and your people are going to spend the rest of your
lives guarding the Orb. Then you’re going to turn the responsibility
for guarding the Orb over to your children, and then they’ll take
over.”
“How long’s this going to last?”
“I haven’t got the faintest idea–centuries, probably, maybe even eons.
Your father’s going to build war boats, and he’s not going to let
anybody near the Isle of the Winds.”
“This isn’t what I had in mind when we started, Belgarath,” Cherek
complained.
“Life’s just filled with these little disappointments, isn’t it?
Playtime’s over, gentlemen. It’s time to grow up. We’ve got work to
do.”
I probably didn’t really have to run roughshod over them like that, but
my Master hadn’t been very gentle with me, and the sniveling of Cherek
and his boys was making me tired. They’d set off on the most important
mission in the history of their race as if it had been some kind of
lark. Now that the consequences of their little romp in the snow were
coming home to roost, all they could do was stand around and complain
about it.
Alorns are such babies at times.
I hammered the details of the division into them with that same
callousness. I didn’t give them time to get all weepy and sentimental.
I told Cherek in precise terms just how many warriors he was going to
send to each of his sons to help with the founding of the new kingdoms.
His expression grew mournful when he realized that I was usurping over
half of his subjects. Every time he started to protest, I reminded him
pointedly that the retrieval of the Orb had been his idea in the first
place. I hadn’t wanted to leave my pregnant wife at the time, so I
didn’t have much sympathy for him now.
“All right,” I concluded that evening, “that’s the way we’re going to
do it. Any questions?”
“What are we supposed to do when we get set up?” Dras asked
sullenly.
“Just stand around and wait for the Angaraks?”
“You’ll get further instructions from Belar,” I told him.
“The Gods are involved in this, too, you know.”
“Belar doesn’t like me,” Dras said.
“I beat him at dice most of the time.”
“Don’t play dice with him, then. Try to stay on the good side of
him.”
“This is awfully open country around here,” Algar said, looking out at
the vast grassland.
“I’m going to have to do a lot of walking.”
“There are wild horses out there. Chase them down and ride.”
“My feet drag on the ground when I try to sit on a horse.”
“Chase down a bigger one, then.”
“There aren’t any bigger ones.”
“Breed some.”
“The weather on the Isle of the Winds is really miserable,” Riva
complained.
“Build houses with thick walls and stout roofs.”
“The wind’ll blow thatch roofs right off the houses.”
“Make your roof out of slate, then, and nail it down.”
Cherek finally got as tired of it as I was getting.
“You’ve got your instructions,” he told his sons.
“Now go do as you’re told. You might be kings now, but you’re still my
sons. Don’t make me ashamed of you.”
That put the starch back in their spines.
The farewells the following morning were tearful, however. Then we