have realized that something very peculiar was going on. But if you’ll
just stop and think about it for a moment, I believe you’ll understand.
You’ll recall that Poledra’s apparent death had driven me quite mad. A
man who has to be chained to his bed has problems. Then I’d spent two
or three years pickling my brains in the waterfront dives in Camaar and
another eight or nine entertaining the ladies of Mar Amon, and during
all that time I saw a lot of things that weren’t really there. I’d
grown so accustomed to that sort of thing that whenever I saw something
unusual, I just shrugged it off as another hallucination. The incident
at Beldaran’s wedding wasn’t a hallucination, but how was I supposed to
know that? Try to be a little more understanding.
It’ll make a better person of you.
And so Beldaran and Riva were married, and they were both deliriously
happy. There were other things afoot in the world, however, and since
the Alorn kings were all on the Isle of the Winds anyway, Beldin
suggested that we might want to seize the opportunity to discuss
matters of state.
All sorts of nonsense has been written about the origins of the Alorn
Council, but that’s how it really started. The Tolnedrans have been
objecting to this rather informal yearly gathering for centuries
now–largely because they aren’t invited. Tolnedrans are a suspicious
people, and any time they get word of a conference of any kind, they’re
absolutely certain that there’s a plot against them at the bottom of
it.
Polgara sat in on our conference. She didn’t particularly want to,
right at first, but I insisted. I wasn’t going to give her an
opportunity to wander about the citadel unsupervised.
I’m not sure that our impromptu conference really accomplished very
much. We spent most of the time talking about the Angaraks. None of
us were happy about their presence on this side of the Sea of the East,
but for the moment there wasn’t much we could do about it. The
distances were simply too great.
“I could probably go into that forest to the east of the moors and burn
down those cities the Nadraks are building there,” Dras rumbled in that
deep voice of his, “but there wouldn’t be much point to it. I don’t
have the manpower to occupy all that wilderness. Sooner or later I’d
have to pull out, and then the Nadraks would just come back out of the
woods and rebuild.”
“Have there been any contacts with them?” Pol asked.
He shrugged.
“A few skirmishes is about all. Every so often they come out of the
mountains, and then we chase them back. I don’t think they’re very
serious about it. They’re probably just testing our defenses.”
“I meant peaceful contacts.”
“There’s no such thing as peaceful contacts between Alorns and
Angaraks, Polgara.”
“Perhaps there should be.”
“I think that’s against our religion.”
“Maybe you should reconsider that. I understand that the Nadraks are
merchants. They might be interested in trade.”
“I don’t think they’ve got anything I’d want.”
“Oh, yes they do, Dras. They’ve got information about the Murgos, and
they’re the ones we’re really interested in. If anyone’s going to
cause us trouble, it’ll be the Murgos. If we can find out from the
Nadraks what they’re doing, we won’t have to go down to Rak Goska to
investigate for ourselves.”
“She’s got a point, Dras,” Algar told his brother.
“My people have had a few contacts with the Thulls, but you can’t get
very much information out of a Thull. From what I hear, the Nadraks
don’t care very much for the Murgos, so they probably wouldn’t mind
passing information along.”
“Can you actually climb the Eastern Escarpment to get to Mishrak ac
Thull?” Cherek asked him with a certain surprise.
“There are some ravines that cut down through the escarpment, father,”
Algar replied.
“They’re steep, but they’re passable. The Murgos patrol the western
frontier of Mishrak ac Thull, and every so often one of those patrols
comes down onto the plains of Algaria–usually to steal horses. We’d
rather they didn’t do that, so we chase them back.” He smiled
faintly.
“It’s easier to let them find those ravines for us than to go looking
for them ourselves.”
“There’s a thought,” Dras noted.
“If the Murgos want horses, couldn’t we interest them in trade, too?”
Algar shook his head.
“Not Murgos, no. Their minds don’t work that way. One of my
Clan-Chiefs questioned a Thull who actually knew his right hand from
his left. The Thull said that Ctuchik’s at Rak Goska. As long as he’s
dominating Murgo society, there won’t be any peaceful contacts with
them.”
“Pol’s right, then,” Beldin said.
“We’re going to have to try to work through the Nadraks.” He squinted
at the ceiling.
“I don’t think this Angarak migration poses much of a threat–at least
not yet. There weren’t all that many people in Cthol Mishrak to begin
with, and Ctuchik’s got them spread out fairly thin. The real threat
is still Mallorea.
I think I’ll go back there and keep an eye on things. The Angaraks on
this continent are just an advance party. They’re probably here to
build supply dumps and staging areas. You won’t have to start
sharpening your swords until the Malloreans begin coming across. I’ll
keep my ear to the ground over there and let you know when the military
moves north out of Mal Zeth toward the bridge.”
Polgara pursed her lips.
“I think we might want to establish closer ties with the Tolnedrans and
the Arends.”
“Why’s that, dear sister?” Riva asked her. He was her brother-in-law
now, and he automatically used that form of address. Family’s an
important thing to Alorns.
“We might need their help with the Malloreans.”
“The Tolnedrans wouldn’t help unless we paid them to,” Cherek
disagreed, “and the Arends are too busy fighting with each other.”
“They live here, too. Bear-shoulders,” she pointed out, “and I don’t
think they’d want Malloreans on this continent any more than we
would.
The legions could be very helpful, and the Arends have been training
for war since before Torak split the world. Besides, Chaldan and Nedra
probably would be offended if we all went off to war and didn’t invite
them to come along.”
“Excuse me, Polgara,” Dras rumbled, “but how did you learn so much
about politics? As I understand it, this is the first time you’ve ever
been out of the Vale.”
“Uncle Beldin keeps me posted,” she replied, shrugging slightly.
“It’s always nice to know what the neighbors are up to.”
“Is there any point to involving the Nyissans or the Marags?” Riva
asked.
“We should probably make the offer,” I said.
“The current Salmissra’s a fairly intelligent young woman, and she’s as
concerned about the Angaraks as we are. The Marags wouldn’t be of much
use.
There aren’t that many of them, and the fact that they’re cannibals
might make everybody else nervous.”
Beldin laughed that ugly laugh of his.
“Tell them to start eating Angaraks. Let the Murgos get nervous.”
“I think maybe we’d all better start thinking about going home,”
Cherek suggested, rising to his feet.
“The wedding’s over now, and if the Malloreans are coming, we’d better
start getting ready for them.”
And that was more or less the extent of the first Alorn Council.
“Is it always that much fun?” Polgara asked me as we were returning to
our quarters.
“Fun? Did I miss something?”
“Politics, father,” she explained.
“All this business of trying to guess what the other side’s going to
do.”
“I’ve always rather enjoyed it.”
“I guess you really are my father, then. That was much more fun than
leading young men around by their noses or turning their knees to water
just by fluttering my eyelashes at them.”
“You’re a cruel woman, Polgara.”
“I’m glad you realize that, father. It wouldn’t be much fun at all to
catch you unawares.” She gave me one of those obscure little smiles.
“Watch out for me, father,” she warned.
“I’m at least as dangerous as you are or Torak is.”
You did say it, Pol, so don’t try to deny it.
Our parting from Beldaran wasn’t one of the happier moments in our
lives. My love for my blonde daughter had been the anchor that had
hauled me back to sanity, and Polgara’s ties to her twin sister were so
complex that I couldn’t even begin to understand them.
Beldin and I talked at some length before we separated. He promised to
keep me advised about what was going on in Mallorea, but I had a few
suspicions about his motives for going back there. I had the feeling
that he wanted to continue his discussion of white-hot hooks with
Urvon, and there was always the chance of coming across Zedar in some
out-of-the-way place. There are nicer people in the world than
Beldin.
I wished him the best of luck–and I meant it. There are nicer people