David and Leigh Eddings – Belgarath the Sorcerer

when it suits us. Let’s be honest here. I’m the figurehead ruler of a

weak nation, and I don’t like that very much. I think I’d like to take

real power instead. An alliance with the Alorns might just make that

possible.”

“You’d be flying in the face of tradition, you know.”

“Traditions are like rules, Belgarath. They’re made to be ignored.

Issa’s been dormant for a long time now. The world’s changing, and if

Nyissa doesn’t change, too, we’ll be left behind. We’ll be a small,

primitive backwater. I think I might just be the one to change

that.”

“It wouldn’t work, Salmissra,” I told her.

“My sterility, you mean? I can take care of that. All I have to do is

stop taking those drugs, and I’ll be as fertile as any young woman.

I’ll be able to give Riva a son to rule his island, and he can give me

a daughter to rule here. We could alter the balance of power in this

part of the world.”

I laughed.

“It’d send the Tolnedrans into hysterics, if nothing else.”

“That in itself would be worth the trouble.”

“It would indeed, but I’m afraid it’s out of the question. Riva’s

already been spoken for.”

“Oh? Who’s the lucky girl?”

“I haven’t any idea. It’s one of those marriages made in Heaven. The

Gods have already selected Riva’s bride.”

She sighed.

“Pity,” she murmured.

“Ah, well. Riva’s still only a boy. I suppose I could educate him,

but that’s sort of tiresome. I prefer experienced men.”

I moved on rather quickly. This was a very dangerous young lady.

“The Arendish civil war’s heating up. Asturia and Wacune are currently

allied against Mimbre–at least they were when I was there. It was two

whole months ago, though, so the situation might have changed by

now.”

“Arends,” she sighed, rolling her eyes upward.

“Amen to that. The Second Honethite Dynasty’s winding down in

Tolnedra. They might be able to squeeze out one or two more emperors,

but that well’s almost dry. The Vorduvians are waiting in the

wings–not very patiently.”

“I hate the Vorduvians,” she said.

“Me, too. We’ll have to endure them, though.”

“I suppose.” She paused, her pale eyes hooded.

“I heard about your recent bereavement,” she said tentatively.

“You have my sincerest sympathy.”

“Thank you.” I even managed to say it in a level tone.

“Another possibility occurs to me,” she said then.

“You and I are both currently at liberty. An alliance between us might

be even more interesting than one between Riva and me. Torak isn’t

going to stay in Mallorea forever, you know. He’s already sent

scouting parties across the land-bridge. It’s just a matter of time

until there’s an Angarak presence on this continent, and that’ll bring

in the Grolims. Don’t you think we should start to get ready?”

I got very careful at that point. I was obviously dealing with a

political genius here.

“You’re tempting me again, Salmissra.” I was lying, of course, but I

think I managed to convince her that I was interested in her obscene

suggestion. Then I sighed.

“Unfortunately, it’s forbidden.”

“Forbidden?”

“By my Master, and I wouldn’t even consider crossing him.”

She sighed.

“What a shame. I guess that still leaves me with the Alorns. Maybe

I’ll invite Dras or Algar to pay a visit to Sthiss Tor.”

“They have responsibilities in the North, Salmissra, and you have yours

here. It wouldn’t be much of a marriage, no matter which of them you

chose. You’d seldom see each other.”

“Those are the best kind of marriages. We wouldn’t have so much chance

to bore each other.” She brought the flat of her hand sharply down on

the arm of her throne.

“I’m not talking about love, Belgarath. I need an alliance, not

entertainment. I’m in a very dangerous situation here. I was foolish

enough to let a few things slip when I first came to the throne. The

eunuchs know that I’m not just a silly girl consumed by her appetites.

I’m sure that the candidates for my throne are already in training.

As soon as one’s chosen, the eunuchs will poison me. If I can’t find

an AloRN to marry, I’ll have to take a Tolnedran–or an Arend. My life

depends on it, old man.”

Then I finally understood. It wasn’t ambition that was driving her so

much as it was her instinct for self-preservation.

“You do have an alternative, you know,” I told her.

“Strike first. Dispose of your eunuchs before they’re ready to dispose

of you.”

“I already thought of that, but it won’t work. They all dose

themselves with antidotes to every known poison.”

“As far as I know, there’s no antidote for a knife-thrust in the heart,

Salmissra.”

“We don’t do things that way in Nyissa.”

“Then your eunuchs won’t be expecting it, will they?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“No,” she agreed, “they wouldn’t.” She suddenly giggled.

“I’d have to get them all at once, of course, but a blood bath of those

dimensions would be quite an object lesson, wouldn’t it?”

“It’d be a long time before anybody ever tried to cross you again,

dear.”

“What a wonderful old man you are,” she said gratefully.

“I’ll have to find some way to reward you.”

“I don’t really have any need for money, Salmissra.”

She gave me a long, smoldering look.

“I’ll have to think of something else, then, won’t I?”

I thought it might be a good idea to change the subject at that

point.

“What’s happening to the South?” I asked her.

“You tell me. The people down there are western Dals. Nobody knows

what the Dals are doing. Somehow they’re in contact with the Seers at

Kell. I think we’d all better keep an eye on the Dals. In many ways

they have a more dangerous potential than the Angaraks. Oh, I almost

forgot to tell you. Torak’s left the ruins of Cthol Mishrak. He’s in

a place called Ashaba in the Karandese Mountains now. He’s passing

orders on to the Grolims through Ctuchik and Urvon. Nobody knows where

Zedar is.” She paused.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit here beside me?” she offered

again.

“We wouldn’t really have to get married, you know. I’m sure Aldur

wouldn’t object to a more informal arrangement.

Come sit beside me, Belgarath, and we can talk about that reward I

mentioned. I’m sure I’ll be able to think of something you’d like.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

When you consider all the trouble I’ve had with a long string of

Salmissras, my feelings about that particular one were just a bit

unusual, but then so was she. The selection of each new Queen of

Nyissa is based almost entirely on physical appearance. At a certain

point in the life of a reigning queen, twenty candidates for the

succession are chosen. The palace eunuchs have a painting of the

original Salmissra, and they go through the kingdom comparing that

painting to the faces of all the twelve-year-old girls they can find.

Twenty are selected and are taken to country estates lying in the

vicinity of Sthiss Tor for training. When the old queen dies, the

twenty are closely examined, and one of them is elevated to the throne.

The other nineteen are killed. It’s brutal, but it is politically

sound. Appearance and manner are the deciding factors in the election.

Intelligence is not taken into consideration. In that kind of random

selection, however, you have as much chance of choosing a genius as an

idiot. Quite clearly, they got a bright one this time. She was

beautiful, of course. Salmissra always is. She had all of the proper

mannerisms, naturally, since her very life had depended on learning

those mannerisms. She had, however, been clever enough to conceal her

intelligence, her sense of humor, and the sheer force of her

personality–until after she’d ascended the throne. Once she’d been

crowned queen, she thought she was safe. I imagine that the palace

eunuchs were very upset when they discovered her true nature–upset

enough, at any rate, to start planning her assassination.

I liked her. She was an intelligent young woman making the best of a

bad situation. As she’d mentioned, the various drugs she took to

maintain her appearance made her infertile, but she’d already come up

with a solution to that problem. I’ve always sort of wondered what

might have happened if she had married. It might have changed the

course of history in that part of the world.

I lingered in her palace for a couple of weeks, and then I rather

regretfully moved on. My hostess was generous enough to lend me her

royal barge, and I went up the River of the Serpent to the rapids in

style for a change.

When the barge reached the rapids, I went ashore on the north bank and

took the trail that wound up into the mountains toward Maragor.

It was a relief to get up out of the Nyissan swamps. For one thing, I

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