POLGARA THE SORCERESS BY DAVID EDDINGS

was very colorful. Then the two of them came out again. ‘I didn’t

realize they were quite that bad,’ Kablek admitted glumly. ‘Tell me

exactly what the trapper ought to do to take care of that.’

Davon explained how the bark of certain trees preserved animal

skins_ ‘If your trappers do that as soon as they take the pelt, I’ll be

able to finish the process here,’ he concluded. ‘Believe me, Kablek,

it’ll at least double the price you’ll get when you bring them here

to Darine.’

I’ll see what the trappers have to say about that.’

‘If you refuse to buy rotten pelts, they’ll get your point almost

immediately.’

‘I’ll try it,’ Kablek grunted. Then he squinted at me. ‘Are you sure

you won’t sell this one to me?’ he asked Davon. ‘You’ve got two,

and no sane man needs two of them.’

‘I’m sorry, Kablek, but she’s not for sale.’

Kablek gave him a sour look. ‘I’m going back to that tavern,’ he

said. ‘I’ll see you next spring.’ Then he reeled out of the shop.

‘What was that all about?’ I demanded.

‘He didn’t believe me when I told him that the pelts he was trying

to sell me weren’t very good.’

‘That’s not what I meant, Davon. What is it that’s not for sale?’

‘You, Aunt Pol,’ Davon said innocently. ‘His offer was very

attractive, though. You should be flattered.’

‘What?’ Alnana almost screamed.

‘It’s a peculiarity of Nadrak culture, dear,’ I explained. ‘Women

are considered property, and they can be bought and sold.’

‘Slavery?’

‘It’s a little more complicated than that, Alnana. I’ll explain it to

you someday – when we’re alone.’

A month or so later, a demure young woman with dark blonde

hair came into the shop, ostensibly to look at sable muffs.

‘That’s the one, Pol,’ mother’s voice came to me.

‘I sort of noticed that myself’,’ I sent the thought back. ‘It’s almost

like a bell ringing, isn’t it?’

‘You’re getting better at this, Pol. A few more generations and I’ll be

out Of a job.’

The blonde girl’s name was Ellette, and she and Alten evidently

also heard the bell mother and I’d been talking about.

. They were married the following winter, and Alten didn’t seem

too unhappy about giving up bachelorhood.

We were all quite happy in Darine, but just between you and me,

I had some reservations about the situation there. The family was

still just a little too prosperous – and too much in the public eye

to suit me. There were also inevitable contacts with foreigners.

Kablek was a friend of the family, and I more or less trusted him, – as

far as I’ve ever trusted any Angarak – but I’d have felt much better

had we never met. The best-intentioned Angarak in the world will

still tell any Grolim who comes by just about anything the Grolim wants

to know. I decided during our stay in Darine that port cities

should be avoided, and large interior cities as well. Villages would

undoubtedly be safer. Townsmen are too busy and too

selfimportant to pay all that much attention to strangers, but villagers

don’t really have that much to talk about, so every passing stranger

is the main topic of conversation in the village tavern for a week or

so. That in itself would give me plenty of warning, since there are

ways for me to listen in on such discussions without being forced

to endure the sour reek of stale beer. Village life can be boring, but

the safety it’d provide would more than make up for the tedium.

The family prospered in Darine, and we lingered there for

probably too many years. In 4071, Alten’s wife Ellette gave birth to a son,

whom Alten insisted on naming Geran in honor of his grandfather. I

didn’t really think that was a good idea, all things considered, but

Alten was adamant. Davon continued to buy furs from Nadraks

and occasional Drasnians, and Alten continued to convert those furs

into garments that sold very well. Alnana died 4077, and Davon

went into a steep decline after her death. That’s more common than

you might think. Sometimes grief will carry you off faster than any

disease.

It was in the year 4080 that one of those itinerant pestilences

which roamed the ancient world sprang up again in Darine, and it

wiped out half the population, including Davon, Alten, and Ellette,

who all died within a few hours of each other despite my best efforts

to save them. That was one time when I didn’t flee from some

inquisitive Murgo. I fled that disease instead. Immediately after the

funeral, I closed up the house and the shop, took whatever money

was lying around, and young Geran and I left Darine, going to

where else – the safety of my house by the lake.

We stayed there for several years, and to pass the time – and

provide for the future – I taught Geran the rudiments of the healing

arts. He was an attentive, though hardly gifted, student, and I had

some hopes for his future. When we came out of seclusion and I

set him up in practice in Medalia, however, I soon realized that he’d

‘lever be a first-rate physician. He seemed to lack the ability to

diagnose the illnesses his patients brought to him.

He married late – in his mid-thirties – and his wife bore him a

son to continue the line, and four daughters as well.

Despite my disappointment in Geran professionally, I’ll concede

that his status as a mediocre physician served our ultimate purpose

far better than might have been the case were he a world-renowned

healer. He earned enough to get us all by, but that was about all,

and that helped to lower his son’s expectations. The first Geran had

been a prince, and Davon and Alten had been extremely prosperous

tradesmen. The second Geran was a near-failure in his own

profession, so his son didn’t grow up in a splendid house surrounded

by servants. He was good with his hands, though, so I apprenticed

him to a carpenter when he was about twelve. Circumstances

seemed to be cooperating with Hattan’s grand scheme for

submerging Iron-grip’s heirs in obscurity.

Over the next couple of centuries, I sampled most of the trades

and crafts in Sendaria. I raised coopers and weavers, stone-cutters

and cabinet-makers, blacksmiths and masons. My young nephews

were all serious, rather self-effacing craftsmen who took some pride

in their work, and with rare exceptions, I didn’t provide them with

too many details about their heritage. Royal blood doesn’t really

mean very much to a young fellow who spills it every time a tool

slips and he barks his knuckles.

We weren’t exactly vagabonds, but we moved rather frequently,

descending, in the view of some I’m sure, to smaller and smaller

towns and villages with each move. The notion of all our neighbors

serving as watch-dogs appealed to me, and it worked rather well.

I received ample warning Whenever a Murgo passed through

whichever village we were living in, and if the Murgo lingered, I could

come up with ‘a family emergency’ to get us out of town in a hurry.

I was living in the improbably named village of Remote Rundorun

which lay some leagues off the main road that linked Sendar and

Seline. My only family at that time was a descendant of Iron-grip

and Beldaran whose name was Darion. When the gossip about a

Murgo merchant passing through town reached me, I decided that

a change of scene might be appropriate. This time, however, I

decided to change tack and move to a large town rather than an

even smaller village with an even more ridiculous name. Darion

and I packed up our clothing, and I paid a passing wagoner to take

us to the town of Sulturn in central Sendaria.

I’ve always rather liked Sulturn anyway. It’s not as cramped as

Medalia or Seline, and the breeze off the lake is refreshing during

the hot summer months. Darion was about fourteen or so when we

moved there, and I apprenticed him to a cabinet-maker. He was a

strapping young man who gave some promise of being quite a bit

larger than his immediate ancestors. He wouldn’t be quite as big as

Bull-neck had been, but that was all right with me. Hiding giants

might have been very challenging. Darion spent the first year of his

apprenticeship whittling wooden pegs. The craftsman to whom he

was apprenticed was a traditionalist who absolutely despised nails,

believing that good furniture must be pegged together, since nails

work themselves loose, and wobbly cabinets are a sin against the

Gods.

After his year of whittling, Darion was allowed to start building

the backs and sides of wardrobes – those free-standing

clothesclosets that were popular in Sendaria at the time. A wardrobe is an

awkward piece of furniture, but it does allow you to rearrange your

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *