pull out tufts of my hair and beard, but the hawks were a whole
different matter. I left in a hurry with Polgara’s mocking laughter
following me.
I was more than a little grumpy when I reached Beldin’s tower.
“How far has she gone?” I demanded of him.
“How far has who gone with what?”
“Polgara. Just how much is she capable of?”
“How should I know? She’s a female, Belgarath. They don’t think the
way we do, so they do things differently. What did she do to you?”
“She turned every bird in the Vale loose on me.”
“You do look a bit mussed. What did you do to irritate her so much?”
“I went down to the tree and told her to come home.”
“I take it she refused the invitation?”
“And then some. How long has she been doing this sort of thing?”
“Oh, I don’t know–a couple of years, I guess. That’d be
consistent.”
“I didn’t follow that.”
He gave me a surprised look.
“Do you mean you don’t know? Haven’t you ever been the least bit
curious about the nature of our gift?”
“I had other things on my mind.”
He rolled his eyes upward.
“Have you ever seen a child who could do the sort of things we do?”
“I hadn’t thought about it, but now that you mention it–” “How’ve you
managed to live this long with your head turned off?
The talent doesn’t show up until we reach a certain age. Usually girls
pick it up a little sooner than boys.”
“Oh?”
“It’s related to puberty, you dunce!”
“What’s puberty got to do with it?”
He shrugged.
“Who knows? Maybe the gift is glandular.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Beldin. What have glands got to do with
the Will and the Word?”
“Maybe it’s a built-in safety precaution. A gifted two-year-old might
be a little dangerous. The gift has to be controlled, and that implies
a certain maturity. You should be glad that it works that way.
Polgara’s not very fond of you, and if she’d had the gift when she was
a toddler, she might have turned you into a toad.”
I started to swear.
“What’s the trouble?”
“I’m going to have to get her down out of that tree. She’s going to
need training.”
“Leave her alone. She’s not going to hurt herself. The twins and I
explained the limitations to her. She isn’t experimenting. About all
she does is talk to birds.”
“Yes. I noticed that.”
“You might think about rolling around in the creek before you go
home.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“You’ve got bird droppings all over you, and Beldaran might find you
just a bit offensive.”
The Master paid me a visit that night, and he gave me some very
peculiar instructions. He seemed to think they were important, but
they didn’t make very much sense to me.
As Poledra had pointed out, I’m not really very good with tools, and
the task my Master set me involved some very tiny, meticulous work.
Fortunately, I had a fair number of Tolnedran silver imperials in my
purse, so I didn’t have to go up into the mountains in search of ore
deposits. Free gold isn’t too hard to find, but refining silver is a
lot of work.
The sculpture itself wasn’t too hard–once I got used to using those
tiny little tools–but making the chains was very tedious.
It was autumn by the time I finished, and then one evening I completed
the last clasp.
“Beldaran,” I called my blonde daughter.
“Yes, father?” she replied, looking up from her sewing. I had taught
her to read, of course, but she preferred sewing.
“I have something for you.”
She came over eagerly.
“What is it?”
“Here.” I held out the silver amulet I’d made for her.
“Oh, father! It’s lovely!”
“Try it on.”
She draped it around her neck, fastened the clasp, and flew to the
mirror.
“Oh,” she said.
“That’s exquisite!” She peered at the reflection a little more
closely.
“It’s Polgara’s tree, isn’t it?”
“That’s what it’s supposed to be.”
“It means something, doesn’t it?”
“Probably. I’m not sure exactly what, though. The Master told me to
make them, but he didn’t bother to explain.”
“Shouldn’t this one be for Pol? It’s her tree, after all.”
“The tree was there a long time before Polgara was, Beldaran.” I held
up another of the amulets.
“This one’s hers.”
She looked at it.
“An owl? What a peculiar thing to give to Pol.”
“It wasn’t my idea.” I’d suffered a great deal sculpting that owl. It
raised a lot of memories.
Yes, Durnik, I know I could have cast them, but the Master told me to
sculpt them instead.
I knew what my amulet meant, and it was easy. I’d taken the form of a
wolf so often that I could have carved that one with my eyes closed. I
put it on, sighed, and snapped the clasp.
“Ah–father?” Beldaran said, her hands at the back of her neck.
“Yes, dear?”
“Something’s wrong with the clasp. It won’t come undone.”
“It isn’t supposed to, Beldaran. You’re not supposed to take it
off.”
“Not ever?”
“Not ever. The Master wants us to wear them always.”
“That might be a little awkward sometimes.”
“Oh, I think we can manage. We’re a family, Beldaran. The amulets are
supposed to remind us of that–among other things.”
“Does Polgara’s amulet lock, too?”
“I hope so. I built it to lock.”
She giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
“I don’t think she’s going to like that, father. If you lock something
around her neck, she’s probably going to be very unhappy about it.”
I winked at her.
“Maybe we’d better wait to tell her until after she’s got it locked in
place, then.”
“Why don’t we?” she said, rolling her eyes roguishly. Then she
giggled again, threw her arms around my neck, and kissed me.
Beldaran and I went down to the tree the next morning to give Polgara
her amulet.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” she demanded.
“You’re supposed to wear it,” I told her.
“Why?”
I was getting a little tired of this.
“It’s not my idea, Pol,” I told her.
“I
made the amulets because Aldur told me to make them. Now put it on and
stop all this foolishness. It’s time for us all to grow up.”
She gave me a peculiar look and fastened her amulet about her neck.
“And now we are three,” Beldaran said warmly.
“Amazing,” Polgara said tartly.
“You do know how to count.”
“Don’t be nasty,” Beldaran told her.
“I know that you’re more clever than I am, Polgara. You don’t have to
hit me over the head with it. Now come back home where you belong.”
I could have berated Pol for months on end about that, and she probably
would have ignored me. When Beldaran said it, though, she agreed
without any argument. And so we went back to the tower and set up
housekeeping.
Things were relatively peaceful, oddly enough. Beldaran managed to
keep Polgara and me from each others’ throats, at least–and could
persuade her to wear her amulet, when Pol found a way to circumvent my
lock. My blonde daughter had been right. Polgara was much more
intelligent than she was. This is not to say that Beldaran was stupid.
It was just that Pol’s one of the most intelligent people I have ever
known–bad-tempered, of course, but extremely intelligent.
I’m sorry, Pol, but you are. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
As soon as she got to the tower, Pol took over in the kitchen. Beltira
and Belkira had taught her how to cook, and she absolutely loved the
business of preparing food. She was very good at it, too. I’ve never
really paid all that much attention to what I eat, but when every meal
that’s set before you is a banquet, you start to notice it.
This is not to say that everything was all sweetness and light. Pol
and I did have an occasional spat.
You know, that’s one of the silliest words in any language. Spat: it
sounds like something gooey hitting the floor.
This all went on for about three years, and during that time Polgara
and I began to develop a pattern that we’ve more or less faithfully
followed for over three thousand years now. She makes clever comments
about my various habits, and I generally ignore them. We don’t scream
at each other, and we seldom swear. It’s not so much that we don’t
want to on occasion, but we learned to behave ourselves out of
consideration for Beldaran.
It was not long after the girls’ sixteenth birthday when Aldur paid me
another visit. Pol and I had gotten into a fairly serious argument
that evening. In passing, I’d mentioned the fact that it was about
time for her to learn how to read. You wouldn’t believe how much that