faintly.
“It’s much more convenient for us that way.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We’re herdsmen, Anrak. We go where the cows go. The Murgos can’t
really comprehend that. Most of their raiding parties are quite small.
They come down the ravines in the escarpment to steal horses and then
try to get back before we catch them. Every so often, though, a larger
party comes down looking for a fight. We built what looks like a city
so that they’ll go there instead of wandering all over Algaria. It
makes them easier to find.”
“It’s just bait, then?”
Algar considered that.
“I suppose you could put it that way, yes.”
“Wasn’t building it a lot of work?”
Algar shrugged.
“We didn’t really have much else to do. The cows feed themselves,
after all.”
We spent the night in the Algarian encampment and rode west the
following morning.
The main pass through the mountains was clear of snow by now, and I
noticed that Fleet-foot was paying rather close attention to it as we
rode up into the foothills.
“Good grass,” he noted, “and plenty of water.”
“Are you thinking of expanding your kingdom?” I asked him.
“Not really. A couple of the clans are occupying the area up around
Darine, but there are too many trees west of the mountains to make the
country good for cows. Doesn’t this road lead to a town someplace up
ahead?”
I nodded.
“Muros,” I told him.
“The Wacite Arends built it.”
“Maybe after Riva’s son is born, I’ll drop on down to Vo Wacune and
have a talk with the duke. It shouldn’t be too hard to drive cows
through this pass, and if word got around that we were bringing herds
through here, cattle-buyers might start gathering at Muros. I’d hate
to have to go looking for them.”
And that’s what started the yearly cattle fair at Muros. In time it
became one of the great commercial events in all the west.
But I’m getting ahead of myself here.
I hired a carriage again in Muros, and I was very happy to get out of
the saddle. Pol and I rode inside while Algar and his cousin stayed on
horseback. We reached Camaar without incident and boarded the ship
Anrak had waiting there. Rivan ships are broader than Cherek war
boats, so the two-day voyage to the Isle of the Winds was actually
pleasant.
You can’t really sneak up on the city Riva had built on the Isle, so he
knew we were coming long before we arrived, and he was waiting on the
wharf when we reached it.
“Are we in time?” Polgara called to him as the sailors were throwing
ropes to men on the wharf.
“Plenty of time, I think,” he replied.
“At least that’s what the midwives tell me. Beldaran wanted to come
down to meet you, but I told her no. I’m not sure if climbing all
those stairs would be good for her.”
“I see you’ve shaved off your beard,” I said.
“It was easier than arguing about it. My wife has opinions about
beards.”
“You look younger without it,” Pol noted approvingly.
The sailors ran out the gangplank, and we all went ashore.
Polgara embraced her brother-in-law warmly, and we started the long
climb up the hill to the citadel.
“How’s the weather been?” Anrak asked his cousin.
“Unusual,” Riva replied.
“It hasn’t rained for almost a week now.
The streets are even starting to dry out.”
Beldaran was waiting for us in the gateway to the Citadel, and she was
very pregnant.
“You seem to be putting on a bit of weight, dear,” Pol teased after
they had embraced.
“You noticed.” Beldaran laughed.
“I think I’ll be losing most of it before very long, though. At least
I hope so.” She laid one hand on her distended stomach.
“It’s awkward and uncomfortable, but I suppose it’s worth it.” Then
she waddled over and kissed me.
“How have you been, father?” she asked me.
“About the same,” I replied.
“Oh, yes,” Pol agreed.
“Nothing changes our father.”
“Why don’t we go inside?” Riva suggested.
“We don’t want Beldaran taking a chill.”
“I’m perfectly fine, Riva,” she told him.
“You worry too much.”
Beldaran’s pregnancy raised all sorts of emotions in me. Strangely,
the memories of her mother weren’t all that painful. Poledra’s
pregnancy had made her very happy, and I remembered that rather than
what happened later.
I’d been a little uneasy about returning Polgara to the scene of her
previous triumphs, but she evidently felt that she’d already broken
enough hearts there, so she largely ignored the young men who flocked
to the Citadel when word of her arrival got around. Pol enjoys being
the center of attention, but she had other things on her mind this
time. The young men sulked, but I don’t think that bothered her much.
I know it didn’t bother me.
She spent most of her time with her sister, of course, but she did have
long conferences with the midwives. I think her interest in the
healing arts dates from that time. I suppose that birth is a logical
place to begin the study of medicine.
The rest of us were redundant. If there’s ever a time in a man’s life
when he’s redundant, it’s when his women-folk are delivering babies.
Pol made that abundantly clear to us, and we wisely chose not to argue
with her about it. Young as she was, Polgara had already begun to take
charge of things. There have been times–many times–when I’d have
been happier if she weren’t quite so forceful, but that’s the way she
is.
Riva had set aside a room high up in one of the towers that served him
as a kind of study, not that he was really all that studious. I’m not
trying to imply that he was stupid, by any means, but he didn’t have
that burning interest in books that characterizes the scholar. I think
his major concern at that time had to do with the tax code.
Fleet-foot, Anrak, and I took to joining him in that tower room-largely
to stay out from underfoot, I think.
“Have you heard from Beldin?” Algar asked me one morning after we’d
settled in for one of those random day-long discussions.
“Not for several months,” I replied.
“I guess things are quiet in Mallorea.”
“Is Torak still at Ashaba?” Riva asked.
“So far as I know. From what Beldin told me the last time we talked,
that ecstasy is still on him.”
“I don’t quite understand that,” Anrak confessed.
“Exactly what’s happening to him?”
“Have you heard about the two Destinies?”
“Vaguely. The priest of Belar talks about them in church sometimes.
It usually puts me to sleep.”
“Try to stay awake this time,” I told him.
“To put it in the simplest terms, the universe came into existence with
a Purpose.”
“I understand that part.”
“Good. Anyway, something happened that wasn’t supposed to happen, and
it divided that Purpose. Now there are two possibilities where there
used to be only one.”
“This is the place where I usually go to sleep,” he said.
“Fight it. Always before, we got our instructions directly from the
Gods, but they’ve left now, so we’re supposed to be instructed by one
or the other of the two Necessities. Torak follows one, and we follow
the other. Certain people get touched by those Necessities, and they
start to talk. Most people think they’re just crazy, but they’re not.
They’re passing instructions on to us.”
“Isn’t that a cumbersome way to do it?”
I shrugged.
“Yes, but it has to be that way.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea. Anyway, Torak’s been raving for years
now, and Urvon’s got scribes taking down his every word. There are
instructions and hints about the future in those ravings. As soon as
Torak comes to his senses again, he’ll try to figure out what they
mean.” I suddenly remembered something.
“Does Dras still have that maniac chained to a post near Boktor?” I
asked Riva.
“So far as I know he does–unless the fellow’s chewed his chain in two
and run off into the fens by now. There’s one in Darine, as well, you
know. He’s not quite as crazy as the one Dras has, but he’s close.”
I looked at Algar.
“You’ve got clans near Darine, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Can you get word to one of your Clan-Chiefs? I want scribes to start
taking down that fellow’s ravings. They’re probably important.”
“I’ve already taken care of that, Belgarath.”
“I think I’ll take the long way around when I go home,” I mused.
“I
want to have a look at these two prophets–and talk to them. Maybe I
can say something that’ll set them off. Has Dras made any contacts
with the Nadraks?”
“Not personally,” Riva replied.
“Dras has prejudices where Angaraks are concerned. There are merchants
in Boktor, though, and there’s a little bit of trade going on along the