Mimbrates at opposite ends of the battlefields.’
Then father and I went on down across the rain-soaked plain of
southern Arendia to Vo Mimbre. Once again I was almost
overwhelmed with memories. I don’t think my father has ever fully
understood just how great an attachment I have for Arendia. Arends
are a child-like people, and in a very real sense I had been their
universal mother for almost six hundred years.
The dark-haired Duke ~ or ‘King’ as he preferred it – Aldorigen
was terrified of snakes, of all things, and that seriously strained my
creativity, since there aren’t very many snakes in Drasnia. I’ll confess
to a deliberate falsehood here. I created an Angarak ‘custom’ out of
whole cloth, and Duke Aldorigen found my imaginary snake pits
into which whole Drasnian villages were cast while shrieking in
terror entertaining enough to bring him around to our way of
thinking.
All right, it was dishonest. Did you want me to suspend the story
while we discuss the ethical implications of ‘ends justifying the
means’ for a week or two?
After father had rammed his truce down Aldorigen’s throat and
had more or less commanded the Sendarian ambassador to serve
as liaison between Mimbre and Asturia, we prepared to leave the
golden city. Before we left, however, I took a very long look at
Aldorigen’s sandy-haired son, Korodullin. He was eight or nine
years old, as I recall. To be honest, the word ‘coincidence’ never
even occurred to me. I was just a little surprised to discover that
the ‘bell’ which has periodically rung inside my head isn’t always
set off by the descendants of Beldaran and Riva Iron-grip. Other
destined arrangements also make it ring. I clearly remember
listening to it the first time Relg met Taiba. Oddly, though, I didn’t hear
any bells the first time I met Durnik.
Aldorigen provided us with horses, and so my father and I,
Bundled up to ward off that perpetual rain, forded the River Arend
about ten leagues downstream from Vo Mimbre and plodded on
down through northern Tolnedra to that gleaming island that is Tol
Honeth.
When we reached the marble-clad imperial palace, we were taken
directly to the emperor without the usual delay. Father’s earlier visit
had convinced Ran Borune that he was an emissary for the Alorn
kings, which wasn’t exactly true, though it did have some basis in
fact, I suppose. The obliteration of Drasnia had brought the
kingdoms of the north to the forefront of Ran Borune’s attention, and
he hungered for any information anyone could provide. ‘Ah, there
you are, Belgarath,’ he said crisply when we were escorted into
his somewhat overly ornate office. ‘Dreadful about Drasnia. Please
convey my deepest sympathy to Rhodar the next time you see him.
Have the Alorns come up with any ideas about where Kal Torak
might strike next?’
‘Tentatively, your Imperial Majesty,’ father replied. ‘Oh, this is
my daughter Polgara, by the way.’
‘Charmed, I’m sure,’ the young emperor said perfunctorily. Ran
Borune and I were not getting off to a good start. ‘I really need to
know where Torak’s going to go, Belgarath. Have you got any spies
in his army?’
‘I wouldn’t exactly call them spies, Ran Borune,’ father said a bit
sourly. ‘Kal Torak doesn’t have any non-Angaraks in his army – at
least not yet. We haven’t seen Melcenes or Dals or Karands among
his forces.’
‘Have the Alorns made any sort of plans as yet?’
‘Nothing very definitive. They’re trying to keep defenses in place
on all the likely fronts. Our major advantage lies in the mobility of
the Alorns. Those Cherek war-boats can put an army down on any
beach in the western world in a very short period of time. The
defensive forces in Algaria, Cherek, and Sendaria should be
sufficient to delay Torak until reinforcements arrive.’
‘Are there any clues in those religious writings?’
‘The prophecies, you mean?’
‘I hate that word,’ Ran Borune said just a bit absently. ‘It absolutely
reeks of superstition.’
‘Possibly,’ father admitted, ‘but there are enough correspondences
between the Alorn prophecies and the Angarak ones that they might
give us some clues about what this fellow who calls himself
Kal Torak will try next. A man who thinks he’s a God usually
tries to fulfill any prophecy that’s handy in order to prove his
divinity.’
just a word here. Note that none of us ever came right out and told
Ran Borune that the invader from the east was really Torak himself.
We maintained the fiction that we were dealing with an Angarak
madman instead. There wasn’t much point in offending Tolnedran
sensibilities by arguing theology with them when there were easier
ways to get their cooperation.
,I guess I hadn’t thought about that,’ Ran Borune conceded. ‘Will
the alorns need some of my legions in the north?’
‘I don’t think so. Thanks all the same.’
‘Are you and Lady Polgara planning to stay here for long? Can
I offer you the hospitality of the palace here?’
‘We appreciate the thought, Ran Borune,’ I told him, ‘but it might
cause you some problems. The Honethites and Vorduvians could
make hay of the fact that you’re consorting with “heathen
sorcerers”.’
‘I’m the emperor here, Lady Polgara, and I’ll consort with
whomever I bloody-well please. If the Vorduvians and Honethites don’t
like it, that’s just too bad.’ He gave me an odd look. ‘You seem quite
conversant with our little peculiarities, my Lady.’
‘A diversion of mine, your Majesty,’ I replied. ‘I find that reading
Tolnedran political commentary puts me to sleep at night almost as
fast as Arendish epics do.’
He winced. ‘I think I had that coming, didn’t I?’ he said ruefully.
‘Yes, your Majesty, you did. Look upon it as instructional. Father
always tells me that it’s our duty to teach up the young.’
‘Please,’ he said lightly, ‘no more thrusts. I surrender.’
‘Wise decision there, Ran Borune,’ father said. ‘People who fence
with Pol usually come away leaking from all sorts of places. We’ll
be staying at the Cherek embassy, I think. I need to move around
and contact several people, and an escort of palace spies trailing
along behind me might be a little cumbersome. I’ll also need to stay
in contact with the alorn kings, and the Cherek ambassador’s got
a war-boat available. Who’s the current Nyissan ambassador?’
‘A slithery sort of fellow named Podiss.’
‘I’ll talk with him. Let’s keep Salmissra advised. She’s got some
resources I might need later on, so I don’t want her to be sitting in
a corner someplace pouting. We’ll keep you advised, so don’t waste
time putting spies on my trail.’
Then father and I went to the Cherek embassy. Late that night,
Beltira’s voice reached father just as he was dropping off to sleep.
he reported that Torak’s forces had marched into Algaria, and then
he got down to the bad news. Uncle Beldin had advised the twins
that a second Mallorean army under Urvon had massed at the
Dalasian port of Dal Zerba and had already begun crossing the Sea of
the East to southern Cthol Murgos. Quite clearly, the closing of the
caravan routes in both the north and in the south had been ordered
to keep troop movements a secret. Now we had two Angarak armies
to worry about.
Father and I went back to the palace and bullied the emperor’s
servants into waking him. He wasn’t too happy about the news we
brought him. We suggested that he stay flexible and not commit his
forces to either front, and then father and I left for Nyissa.
I’d never been in the land of the snake-people before nor met one
of that interminable string of identical Salmissras. The Serpent-God,
Issa, unlike the other gods, had not taken several disciples as Torak
or our Master had, but had devoted all his love to one handmaiden,
the original Salmissra. The notion of extending her life had evidently
not occurred to the sluggish Issa, and so the Nyissans had simply
replaced her when she’d died. The first qualification had been a
physical resemblance to the original, and a lengthy education had
imprinted the personality of the first Salmissra on all the candidates.
They had good reason to study very hard, since nineteen of those
candidates were put to death immediately after the selection of
the new Serpent Queen. As a result, one Salmissra was virtually
indistinguishable from her predecessors. As father put it, ‘If you’ve
met one Salmissra, you’ve met them all.’ I had no real reason to be
fond of those Salmissras, but father persuaded me that we might
need the rather specialized talents of the Nyissans at some time
during the course of the Angarak invasion, so I was civil – barely
– when we entered that garish, snake-infested palace in Sthiss
Tor.
Salmissra’s throne room was a dimly-lighted hall that focused on
the enormous statue of the Serpent-God. A dais stood in front of