POLGARA THE SORCERESS
PROLOGUE
KAIL, THE RIVAN WARDER, objected strenuously when King
Belgarion told him that he and his queen planned to make the
journey to the northern end of the Vale of Aldur unattended, but
Garion uncharacteristically put his foot down. ‘It’s a family
gathering, Kail. Ce’Nedra and I don’t need a cluster of servants underfoot.
They’d just be in the way.’
‘But it’s dangerous, your Majesty.’
‘I rather doubt that anything’ll turn up that I can’t handle, old
friend,’ Garion told him. ‘We’re going alone.’ The Rivan Queen was
a bit startled by the firmness in Garion’s voice.
Then there was the argument about fur. Queen Ce’Nedra was
Tolnedran by birth and Dryad by heritage. Those backgrounds were
both southern, and the notion of wearing animal skins made
Ce’Nedra’s flesh creep. Garion, however, was at least partially
Alorn, and he’d traveled extensively in the north in the winter-time.
‘You’re going to wear fur, Ce’Nedra,’ he adamantly told his tiny
wife, ‘because if you don’t, we aren’t going anywhere until the
weather warms up.’ Garion seldom delivered ultimatums to her,
and Ce’Nedra was shrewd enough not to argue about the matter
any further. She obediently dressed herself in Alorn fur garments,
spoke at some length with the nurse who would oversee the royal
children during her absence, and then she and her husband left the
Isle of the Winds aboard the disreputable Captain Greldik’s dubious
ship on the morning tide.
They purchased horses and supplies in Camaar and set out toward
the east. The regularly spaced Tolnedran hostels along the highway
to Muros provided adequate lodgings each night, but after Muros,
they were largely on their own. The Rivan King, however, had spent a
great deal of time living out in the open, and his little wife was forced
to concede that he was adequate when the time came to set up camp.
The Rivan Queen was realistic enough to know just how
ridiculous she looked while gathering firewood in those camps. The bulky
fur garments she wore gave her a roly-poly appearance, her flaming
red hair streamed down her back, and because of her size she could
only carry a few sticks at a time. The unwanted image of a red-haired
beaver trudging through the snow came to her quite often.
The snow was deep in the Sendarian mountains, and it seemed
to Ce’Nedra that her feet would never be warm again. She could
not give her husband the satisfaction of admitting that, however.
This trek was her idea, after all, and she’d have sooner died than
admit that it might have been a mistake.
Ce’Nedra was like that sometimes.
It was snowing lightly and was bitterly cold when they came
down out of the mountains and rode south across the snowy plains
of Algaria. Although it definitely went against the grain to confess
it, even privately, Ce’Nedra was actually glad that her husband had
been so insistent about fur clothing.
And then as a chill evening was settling over southern Algaria
and when lowering clouds were spitting tiny pellets of snow, they
topped a rise and saw the little valley on the northern edge of
the Vale of Aldur where Poledra’s cottage and the surrounding
outbuildings lay. The cottage had been there for eons, of course, but
the barns and sheds were Durnik’s additions, and they gave the
place the appearance of a Sendarian farmstead.
Ce’Nedra wasn’t really interested in comparative architecture at
that point, however. All she really wanted to do was to get in out
of the cold. ‘Do they know that we’re coming?’ she asked her
husband, her breath steaming in the biting cold.
‘Yes,’ Garion replied. ‘I told Aunt Pol that we were on the way a
couple of days ago.’
‘Sometimes you’re a very useful fellow to have around, your
Majesty,’ Ce’Nedra smiled.
‘Your Majesty is too kind.’ His reply was a bit flippant.
‘Oh, Garion.’ They both laughed as they pushed on down the hill.
The cottage – they’d always called it that, though in actuality it
was growing to be a fairly large house – nestled at the side of an
ice-bound little stream, and the snow was piled up to the bottom
of the windows. There was a kind of golden invitation about the
way the soft lamplight spilled out across the snow, and the column
of blue smoke from the central chimney rose straight up toward
the threatening sky. The Rivan Queen definitely approved of that
indication that warmth and comfort were no more than a quarter
mile away.
And then the low door opened, and Dumik stepped out into the
dooryard. ‘What kept you?’ he called up to them. ‘We were
expecting you along about noon.’
‘We hit some deep snow,’ Garion called back. ‘It was slow going
there for a while.’
‘Hurry on down, Garion. Let’s get Ce’Nedra in out of the cold.’
What a dear man he was!
Ce’Nedra and her husband rode into the snowy dooryard and
swung down from their saddles.
‘Go inside, both of you,’ Durnik instructed. ‘I’ll see to your horses.’
‘I’ll help with that,’ Garion offered. ‘I can unsaddle a horse almost
as well as you can, and I need to stretch my legs anyway.’ He took
Ce’Nedra by the arm and guided her to the doorway. ‘I’ll be right
back, Aunt Pol,’ he called inside. ‘I want to help Durnik with the
horses.’
‘As you wish, dear,’ the Lady Polgara replied. Her voice was rich
and filled with love. ‘Come in here, Ce’Nedra. Let’s get you warm.’
The Rivan Queen almost ran inside, hurled herself into the arms
of Polgara the sorceress, and kissed her soundly.
‘Your nose is cold, Ce’Nedra,’ Polgara observed.
‘You should feel my feet, Aunt Pol,’Ce’Nedra replied with a little
laugh. ‘How can you stand the winters here?’
‘I grew up here, dear, remember? I’m used to the weather.’
Ce’Nedra looked around. ‘Where are the twins?’
‘They’re down for their afternoon nap. We’ll get them up for
supper. Let’s get you out of those furs and over to the fireplace. As
soon as you warm up a little, I’ve got water heating, and you can
have a nice hot bath.’
‘Oh, yes!’ the Rivan Queen replied fervently.
Part of the difficulty with Alorn fur garments lies in the fact that
they don’t have buttons, so they’re customarily tied on. Undoing
frozen knots can be quite a chore, particularly if one’s fingers are
stiff with cold. And so it was that Ce’Nedra was almost forced to
simply stand in the center of the room with her arms outstretched
while Polgara removed her outer garments. Then, once the furs were
off, the Rivan Queen went to the fireplace and stretched her hands
out to the crackling flames.
‘Not too close, dear,’ Polgara warned. ‘Don’t burn yourself. How
does a nice hot cup of tea sound?’
‘Heavenly!’
After Ce’Nedra had drunk her tea and soaked in a tub of steaming
water for about a half-hour, she actually began to feel warm again.
Then she dressed in a plain gown and returned to the kitchen to
help feed the twins. Polgara’s children were a year old now, and
they’d begun to walk – although not very well. They also seemed
to have some difficulty managing their spoons, and quite a bit of
eir supper en e up on t e oor. The twins a axen, cur y
air, and they were absolutely adorable. Their vocabulary was very
imited – at least in any language Ce’Nedra could understand. They
alked to each other extensively in some strange tongue, however.
‘They’re speaking “twin”,’ Polgara explained.’It’s not uncommon.
ach set of twins develops its own private language. Beldaran and
spoke to each other in “twin” until we were about five. It used to
rive poor uncle Beldin wild.’
Ce’Nedra looked around. ‘Where are Garion and Durnik?’
rnik’s made some more improvements,’ Polgara replied. ‘I’d
ine he’s showing them off. He’s added several rooms at the
of the cottage, so at least you and Garion won’t have to sleep
loft. She carefully wiped the chin of one of the twins. Messy
on,’ she chided gently. The child giggled. ‘Now then, what’s
is all about, Ce’Nedra? Why did you make this trip in the dead
f winter?’
‘Have you read Belgarath’s story yet?’ Ce’Nedra asked.
‘Yes. It was characteristically long-winded, I thought.’
‘You won’t get any argument from me about that. How could he
ossibly have written that much down in under a year?’
‘Father has certain advantages, Ce’Nedra. If he’d actually had to
rite it, it’d probably have taken him much, much longer.’
‘Maybe that’s why he left so many things out.’
‘I don’t exactly follow you, dear.’ Polgara gently wiped the face
f the second twin and then set them both down on the floor.
‘For someone who pretends to be a professional story-teller, he
ertainly did a third-rate job.’
‘He more or less covered everything that happened, I thought.’
‘There are some awfully large gaps in that story, Aunt Pol.’