Garion. I was being careful not to watch him too obviously, but I
did happen to catch a glimpse of the tears that filled his eyes once or
twice while he and Garion were playing a little game of ‘tickle-tickle,
giggle-giggle’. My feelings for the Old Wolf softened noticeably at
that point. Though he tries to hide it, father does have his sentimental
side.
He paid for his supper that evening by telling stories after we’d
all eaten. The one that got the most applause was the one he called
‘How Belgarath and four companions stole back the Orb of Aldur
from the One-Eyed God of Angarak’. The farm hands went
absolutely wild over that,”one. ‘My friend,’ Faldor said at the end of the
story, ‘that was absolutely amazing! You told that story almost as
if you’d actually been there in person!’
I had a little trouble keeping a straight face along about then. I’ll
admit, however, that if he really sets his mind to it, my father can
hold an audience spellbound for hours on end, and he never seems
to tire of the sound of his own voice.
Then, after Faldor and his farmhands had all retired for the night
and I’d shooed my helpers off to their beds, father, Garion and I
had the kitchen to ourselves. I blew out most of the lamps, leaving
only one still burning to dimly light my kitchen. I laid out a few
things in preparation for tomorrow’s breakfast, and father was
sitting off in a corner holding the sleeping little boy on his lap.
I caught a faint flicker of movement at the kitchen door, and I
turned quickly. It was my little nanny goat, and her golden eyes
glowed in the dim light. ‘You,’ I commanded her, ‘go back to the
stables where you belong.’
‘Oh, leave her be, Pol,’ father said tolerantly. ‘She’s a member of
the family too, you know.’
‘Peculiar notion.’ I murmured. Then I looked him squarely in the
face. ‘Well, Old Wolf,’ I said quietly, ‘did you finally run Chamdar
down?’
‘We didn’t even get close to him, Pol,’ he admitted, dropping
his characterization and speaking very seriously. ‘I’m giving some
thought to taking a run down to Rak Cthol and jerking out Ctuchik’s
liver.’
‘Interesting notion. What’s he done lately that you don’t like?’
‘He’s sending counterfeit Chamdars into the west.’
‘Would you like to clarify that?’
‘He’s modified some ordinary Murgos – or Grolims, for all I know
to make them look exactly like Asharak the Murgo. That makes
Drasnian intelligence absolutely worthless. Silk was terribly upset
when I told him that he’d been following the wrong man. That was
the only good thing to come out of the whole affair.’
‘That one went by a little fast, father.’
‘Our Prince Kheldar’s terribly impressed with himself, Pol. He
was in dire need of a large dose of humility. His face almost fell off
when I told him that he’d been wasting his time on a forgery.’
‘Then you haven’t really got any idea at all of where the real
Chamdar might be?’
‘Not a clue, Pol. Not a clue. About the best I can do to distract
him is to go up into the Alorn kingdoms and thrash around, making
a lot of noise and spreading rumors. Chamdar’s got access to a lot
of gold, so he can hire spies in addition to the Dagashi who’re
probably standing at every crossroads from Val alorn to Sthiss Tor.
The best way I know of to distract his Dagashi and his home-grown
spies is to flop around waving my arms to make sure that a lot of
Alorns are talking about “that funny old man who tells stories”.
That’ll be the easy part. All it takes to get an Alorn to start talking
is a couple of tankards of ale, and all it takes to make him stop is
about two dozen more.’ He looked at me gravely. ‘It isn’t much,
Pol, but it’s about the best I can come up with for the moment.
You’re awfully exposed here, you know. Maybe you’d better go
back to your house on Lake Erat.’
‘No, father, I’ll stay right here. My manor house is just a little too
isolated, and it’s very important for Garion to have people around
him while he’s growing up. A hermit wouldn’t make a very good
king.’
‘And you actually like it here, don’t you Pol?’ he asked shrewdly.
‘It’s as good a place as any, father. I’m doing something that I
like to do, and very few people stop by here. I like these people,
and they like me. I’m as happy here as I’d be anyplace, I guess.
,,Besides, if Garion grows up here, he’ll be honest, anyway, and
‘,honesty’s a rare commodity on thrones lately, I’ve noticed.’
‘Do you really want to submerge yourself in this rustic setting,
Pol?,
‘I think that maybe I do, father. I’m still bleeding from what
happened in Annath, and steady work and quiet surroundings help
to heal that sort of thing.’
‘It is a step down the social scale, Pol. You started out as the
Duchess of Erat, ruling over this entire kingdom, and now you’re
the head cook on a remote farm. Are you sure you wouldn’t
prefer to take Garion to Sulturn or Muros and buy him an
apprenticeship the way you’ve done with the others?’
, father. Garion’s not like the others. He’s going to be the Child
of light – if he isn’t already – and I don’t want to clutter his mind
with carpentry, tombstones, or shoemaking. I want him to have a
mind, but one that’s uncluttered and undeveloped. That’s the
best way I know of to prepare him for some of the surprises that’ll
come up as he goes along.’
‘I don’t see how keeping him stupid is going to prepare him for
what’s in store for him.’
‘How old were you when you stumbled across the Master’s tower
that snowy night seven thousand years ago?o
‘Not very. Fifteen or sixteen at the most, I think.’
‘You turned out all right ~ except for a few bad habits – and you
were probably much stupider than Garion’s going to be. I’ll see to
that personally.’
‘You’re going to stay here., then?’
‘I think I should, father. I’m having one of those feelings. This is
the place where Garion’s supposed to grow up. It’s not fancy, and
he won’t be important here. but this is the place. I knew that when
I first saw it. It’s a little isolated and awfully provincial. but there
are people here who Garion absolutely has to get to know, and I’ll
do what’s right for him., no matter what it costs me.’
Father lifted the drowsing baby and stroked his bushy face across
the little boy’s nose. Garion giggled, and father laughed. ‘Garion,
my boy,’ he said expansively. ‘you may just be the luckiest fellow
in the world to have your Aunt Pol to look after you.’ Then the old
fraud gave me a sly look and winked. ‘That’s except for me, of
course. She’s been looking after me for longer than I care to
remember. I guess that makes us both lucky, wouldn’t you say?’
Garion giggled again.
I looked fondly at this shabby old man and the giggling baby.
and I remembered something uncle Beltira had said a long time
ago. He’d been explaining the unspoken game father and I have
been playing with each other for centuries. He’d told the young
prince that our sometimes spiteful-seeming remarks were not what
they really appeared on the surface. The gentle twin had smiled and
had said, ‘It’s just their way to avoid coming right out and admitting
that they’re genuinely fond of each other, Geran. They’d be too
embarrassed to admit that they love each other, so they play this
little game instead. It’s their own private and peculiar way to keep
saying “I love you” over and over again. They might not even know
it themselves, but they say it to each other almost every time they
meet.’
I was ruefully forced to admit that the twins and Beldin had seen
through our little subterfuge all the time – even if father and I hadn’t.
I’d spent three thousand and more years trying to avoid that simple
admission, but finally it was so obvious to me that I wondered why
I’d gone to all the trouble. I loved my father. It was as simple as
that. I loved him in spite of his many flaws and bad habits. That
‘stunning realization brought tears of happiness to my eyes as that
,’love filled my heart.
‘There, now,’ mother’s voice echoed a little smugly in my mind.
‘That wasn’t really all that hard, was it?’ There was a slight difference
to that usually sourceless voice this time, however. It seemed to
be coming from the kitchen doorway. I turned sharply and stared