convinced Ctuchik that posting sentries wouldn’t be a bad idea, so
getting through the city unnoticed might have been a little tricky. It
was with a certain distaste that I finally came to the conclusion that
I didn’t really have to go through the city. I knew where Ctuchik’s
turret was, after all, and it did have windows.
It was late at night, so there wasn’t any warm air rising up off the
black sand. This meant that I literally had to claw my way up through
the air as I circled the peak up and up. About the only good thing
about it was the fact that after I was about fifty feet up, I couldn’t
see the ground any more.
As luck had it, Ctuchik had fallen asleep over his worktable, and he
had his head down on his folded arms when I flapped in through his
window. I shed all those vulture feathers and shook him awake. The
years hadn’t improved his appearance. He still looked like a walking
dead man.
He half rose with a startled exclamation, and then he got control of
himself.
“Good to see you again, old boy,” he lied.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. You’d better get word to your Nadraks.
Tell them to call off this invasion. The Alorns know they’re
coming.”
His eyes went flat.
“Someday you’re going to irritate me, Belgarath.”
“I certainly hope so. God knows you’ve irritated me enough lately.”
“How did you find out about the Nadraks?”
“I’ve got eyes everywhere, Ctuchik. You can’t hide what you’re doing
from me. Didn’t what happened to your scheme in Arendia convince you
of that?”
“I’d sort of wondered why that fell apart.”
“Now you know.” I wasn’t actually trying to steal Pol’s credit, I just
thought it might be a good idea to keep her part in that little coup a
secret from Ctuchik for a while longer. Pol was good, but I wasn’t
sure if she was ready for a confrontation with Ctuchik. Besides, I
didn’t really want him to know about her just yet. You might say that
I was holding her in reserve.
“I’m awfully sorry, old chap,” he said with a faint sneer.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you with the Nadraks. It’s not
really my idea. I’m just following orders from Ashaba.”
“Don’t try to be clever, Ctuchik. I know you can talk with Torak any
time you need to. You’d better do that right now. You weren’t around
when we invaded the country around Korim. Believe me, Torak gets very
upset when large numbers of Angaraks get killed, and what’s right on
the verge of happening on the Drasnian border is very likely to
exterminate the Nadraks entirely. I’ve seen the way Alorns make war.
It’s entirely up to you, of course; I’m not the one who’s going to have
to answer to Torak.” Then, just to twist the knife a bit and add to
his confusion, I smirked at him.
“You really need a copy of the Ashabine Oracles, old boy,” I told him
spitefully.
“The Mrin Codex is giving me very good instructions. I knew all about
this little game of yours a couple hundred years ago, so I’ve had lots
of time to get ready for you.” Then I smiled beatifically at him.
“Always nice talking with you, Ctuchik.” Then I stepped to the window
and jumped.
That little exercise in gross theatricality almost got me killed. I
was no more than a hundred feet above the desert floor when I finally
got all my feathers in place. Changing form while you’re falling is
very difficult.
For some reason, it’s hard to concentrate when the ground’s coming up
at you that fast.
Aside from the opportunity it gave me to add to Ctuchik’s confusion,
however, my visit to Rak Cthol was largely a waste of time. I should
have known that Torak would never back away from something once he’d
set it in motion, no matter how many things got in his way. His ego
simply would not permit it. The Nadraks came howling across the
Drasnian border before I even got back from Rak Cthol, and, quite
predictably, the Alorns met them head-on and soundly defeated them. A
few of them did manage to escape, but it was centuries before there
were enough Nadraks again even to worry about.
Torak evidently juggled things around in his mind sufficiently that it
wasn’t his fault for ignoring my warning. In commemoration of the
event, he ordered his Grolims to quadruple the number of sacrifices.
Over the centuries, his Grolims have killed more Angaraks than the
Alorns ever have.
After the survivors of that debacle limped back to Gar og Nadrak and
hid out in the forest, I went to Arendia to see what Pol was up to. I
finally located her in Vo Wacune, living in a splendid house not far
from the ducal palace. Like all the rest of Vo Wacune, her house had
been constructed of marble, and it positively gleamed. It was quite a
large house, and it had wings to it that partially enclosed a
well-tended flower garden with paved walks, neatly trimmed hedges, and
manicured lawns.
“What’s all this?” I asked her when her servants finally ushered me
into her presence.
She was sitting in an ornate chair by a rose quartz fireplace that
glowed pink, wearing a truly stunning blue gown.
“I’m moving up in the world, father.”
“You found a gold mine somewhere?”
“Something better, actually. My estate is quite large, and the land’s
very fertile.”
“Your estate?”
“It’s just to the north of Lake Medalia–over on the other side of the
River Camaar. I even have a manor house up there. You have the
distinct honor to be addressing her Grace, the duchess of Erat.”
“Be serious, Pol.”
“I am serious, father. The old duke was very grateful for the
information I gave him about Ctuchik’s scheme, so I’ve always been
welcome at the Ducal Palace.”
I gave her a hard look.
“He gave you a title just for following the Master’s instructions? And
you accepted it? Tacky, Pol, very tacky. We aren’t supposed to take
rewards for obeying orders.”
“It went a little further, Old Wolf. You know the situation here in
Arendia?”
“Last I heard, the Wacites and the Mimbrates were allied against the
Asturians. That alliance seems to be lasting longer than most of the
others.”
“It’s still in effect, father. Anyway, after the old duke died, his
son Alleran took the ducal throne. He and I were quite close, since
I’d helped his mother raise him. We married Alleran off–I even
persuaded his mother not to let him marry his cousin–and in due time,
his wife presented him with a son. The duke of Vo Astur saw a chance
to muddy the waters here in Arendia when that happened, and he sent a
group of his underlings to abduct the little boy. The current duke of
Vo Astur is a crude sort of fellow, and the note his hirelings left was
very direct. He told Alleran that he’d kill his son unless Wacune
abrogated the treaty with Mimbre and stayed strictly neutral. I went
to Vo Astur and rescued the little boy. I also gave the Asturian duke
a lesson in good manners.”
“What did you do to him?” I asked the question a bit apprehensively.
There are certain rules concerning the use of our gift.
“You didn’t kill him, did you?”
“Of course not, father. I know better than that. The duke of Vo Astur
has an open sore on the lining of his stomach now. It provides him
with all sorts of entertainment, and it keeps him out of mischief. That
was five years ago, and there hasn’t been a major battle in Arendia
since I visited Vo Astur.”
“You’ve made peace in Arendia?” I was stunned.
“A temporary peace, father,” she corrected.
“It’s probably too early to tell if it’s permanent. I’ll ulcerate
stomachs from one end of Arendia to the other if I have to in order to
put an end to this foolishness, though.
Duke Alleran was very grateful, and that’s why I’m the duchess of Erat
now.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” I exclaimed.
“It’s so simple. You ended the Arendish civil wars with a bellyache.”
I bowed to her.
“I’m proud of you, your Grace.”
“Why, thank you, father.” She beamed. Then she pursed her lips
thoughtfully.
“The congratulations might be a little premature, though.
As soon as there’s a new duke in either Vo Mimbre or Vo Astur,
hostilities might break out again. I think I’d better stay here in Vo
Wacune.
These Wacites are the least aggressive of the Arends, and I have a
certain amount of authority here because of my friendship with the
duke’s family.
Possibly I can guide them in the right direction. Somebody in Arendia
is going to have to take the role of peacemaker. Give me a little time