POLGARA THE SORCERESS BY DAVID EDDINGS

a black, greasy substance. ‘What’s that smeared all over the walls?’

I asked uncle Beldin.

‘Tar,’ he replied with an indifferent shrug. ‘It helps to keep the

water out.’

That sort of alarmed me. ‘The boat’s made of wood,’ I said. ‘Isn’t

wood supposed to float?’

‘Only when it’s one solid piece, Pol. The sea wants to have a level

surface, and empty places under that surface offend it, so it tries to

seep in and fill up those spaces. And the tar keeps the wood from

rotting.’

‘I don’t like it.’

‘I’m sure your opinion hurts its feelings.’

‘You always have to try to be clever, don’t you, uncle?’

‘Look upon it as a character defect if you like.’ He grinned.

After Beldaran and I had deposited our belongings in our tiny

cabin, we went back up on deck. Riva’s sailors were making the

vessel ready to depart. They were burly, bearded men, many of

whom were stripped to the waist. All that bare skin made me just

a little jumpy for some reason.

There seemed to be ropes everywhere – an impossible snarl

passing through pulleys and running upward in an incomprehensible

tangle. The sailors untied the ropes that held the ship up against

the wharf, and then pushed us a ways out and took their places at

the oars. One ruffian with an evil face sat cross-legged in the stern

and began to pound rhythmically on a hide-topped drum to set the

pace for the oarsmen. The ship moved slowly out through the

crowded harbor toward the open sea.

Once we were past the breakwater, the sailors pulled in their oars

and began hauling on various ropes. I still don’t fully understand

exactly how a sailor can tell one rope from another, but Riva’s men

seemed to know what they were doing. Large horizontal beams

With tightly rolled canvas attached to them crept up the masts as

the chanting sailors pulled on the ropes in a unison set by the rhythm

Of the chant. The pulleys squealed as the canvas-bearing beams rose

to the tops of the masts. Then aloft, other sailors, agile as monkeys,

untied the canvas and let it roll down. The sails hung slack for a

few moments. Then a breeze caught them and they bellied out with

a booming sound.

The ship rolled slightly to one side, and then it began to move.

Water foamed as the bow of the ship cut into the waves, and the

breeze of our passage touched my face and tossed my hair. The

waves were not high enough to be alarming, and Riva’s ship

mounted each one with stately pace and then majestically ran down

the far side.

I absolutely loved it!

The ship and the sea became unified, and there was a music to

that unification, a music of groaning timbers, creaking ropes, and

booming sails. We moved out across the sun-touched waves with

the music of the sea filling our ears.

I’ve frequently made light, disparaging remarks about Alorns and

their fascination with the sea, but there’s a kind of holiness in it

almost as if true sailors have a different God. They don’t just love

the sea; they worship it, and in my heart I know why.

‘I can’t see the land any more!’ Beldaran exclaimed that evening,

looking apprehensively sternward.

‘You aren’t supposed to, love,’ Riva told her gently. ‘We’d never

get home if we tried to keep the Sendarian coast in plain sight the

whole way to the Isle.’

The sunset on the sea ahead of us was glorious, and when the

moon rose, she built a broad, gleaming highway across the glowing

surface of the night-dark sea.

All bemused by the beauty around me, I sat down on a convenient

barrel, crossed my arms on the rail, and set my chin on them to

drink in the sense of the sea. I remained in that reverie all through

the night, and the sea claimed me as her own. My childhood had

been troubled, filled with resentments and a painful, almost

mortifying sense of my own inadequacy. The sea calmed those troubled

feelings with her serene immensity. Did it really matter that one

little girl with skinned knees felt all pouty because the world didn’t

genuflect every time she walked by? The sea didn’t seem to think

so, and increasingly as the hours passed, neither did I.

The dawn announced her coming with a pale light just above the

sternward horizon. The world seemed filled with a grey, shadowless

luminescence, and the dark water became as molten silver. When

the sun, made ruddy by the sea mist, mounted above the eastern

horizon, he filled my heart with a wonder such as I’d never known

before.

But the sea wasn’t done with me yet. Her face was like molten

glass, and then something immense swelled up from beneath

without actually breaking the surface. The resulting surge was untouched

by foam or silly little splashings. It was far too profound for that

kind of childish display. I felt a sudden sense of superstitious terror.

The mythology of the world positively teems with sea-monsters,

and Beltira and Belkira had amused Beldaran and me when we

were very young by telling us stories, usually of Alorn origin. No

sea-going people will ever pass up the chance to talk about

seamonsters, after all.

‘What’s that?’ I asked a sleepy-eyed sailor who’d just come up

on deck, and I pointed at the disturbance in the water.

He squinted over the rail. ‘Oh,’ he said in an off-hand way, ‘those

be whales, my Lady.’

‘Whales?’

‘Big fish, my Lady.’ He squinted at the sea again. ‘It’s the time of

year when they flock together. I’d guess that there be quite a few

down there.’

‘Is that why the water’s bulging up like that – because there are

so many?’

‘No, my Lady. One whale all by himself can make the sea heave

that way.’

I was sure he was exaggerating, but then an enormous dark form

erupted from the water like a mountain aborning. I couldn’t believe

what I was seeing! Nothing alive could be that big!

Then he crashed with a boom back into the sea, sending great

sheets of water in all directions, and he slapped his tail down against

the surface with another huge noise and disappeared.

Then he jumped again, and again.

He was playing!

And then he was not alone. Other whales also came surging up

out of the sea to leap and play in the morning sun like a crowd of

overgrown children frolicking in a play yard.

And they laughed! Their voices were high-pitched, but they were

not squeaky. There was a profound depth to them and a kind of

yearning.

One of them – I think it was that first one – rolled over on his

side to look at me with one huge eye. There were wrinkles around

that eye as if he were very, very old, and there was a profound

wisdom there.

And then he winked at me and plunged back into the depths.

No matter how long I live, I’ll always remember that strange

meeting. in some obscure way it’s shaped my entire view of the

world and of everything that’s hidden beneath the surface of

ordinary reality. That single event made the tedious journey from the

Vale and this voyage worth while – and more.

We were another two days reaching Riva, and I spent those days

,filled with the wonder of the sea and of those creatures she

supported as a mother supports her children.

The Isle of the Winds is a bleak, inhospitable place that rises out

‘Of a usually storm-tossed sea, and when viewed from the water the

city seems as unwelcoming as the rock upon which it’s built. It rises

steeply from the harbor in a series of narrow terraces, and each row

of houses stands at the brink of the terrace upon which it’s built.

The seaward walls of those houses are thick and windowless, and

battlements surmount them. In effect this makes the city little more

than a series of impenetrable walls rising one after another to the

Citadel which broods down over the entire community. Whole races

could hurl themselves at Riva with no more effect than the waves

have upon the cliffs of the Isle itself. As the Master said, ‘All the

tides of Angarak cannot prevail against it,’ and when you add the

Cherek fleet patrolling the waters just off the coast, you have the

potential for the extinction of any race foolish enough even to

contemplate the notion of making war on the Rivans. Torak’s crazy,

but he’s not that crazy.

Beldaran and I had taken some rather special pains to make

ourselves presentable that morning. Beldaran was to be Queen of Riva,

and she wanted to make a good impression on her future subjects.

I was not going to be the queen, and my target was a certain specific

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