to the point.’
Ce’Nedra was not accustomed to being addressed so bluntly, but
she chose not to take offence. She side-tracked slightly instead. ‘Have
you read the history book your husband just finished writing?’ she
asked.
‘I don’t read often,’ Poledra replied. ‘It’s hard on the eyes. Besides,
he didn’t write it. He spoke it, and it just appeared on paper while
he was talking. He cheats sometimes. I heard most of it while he
was talking. It wasn’t too inaccurate.’
‘That’s what I’m getting at. He left quite a bit out, didn’t he?’
‘In places, yes.’
‘But your daughter could fill in those places, couldn’t she?’
‘Why would she want to do that?’
‘To complete the story.’
‘Stories aren’t really that important, Ce’Nedra. I’ve noticed that
men-folk tell stories over their ale-cups to fill in the hours between
supper and bedtime.’ Poledra’s look was amused. ‘Did you really
come all this way just to get a story? Couldn’t you find anything
better to do – have another baby, or something?’
Ce’Nedra changed direction again. ‘Oh, the story isn’t for me,’
she lied. ‘It’s for my son. Someday he’ll be the Rivan King.’
‘Yes, so I understand. I’ve been told about that custom. Peculiar
customs should usually be observed, though.’
Ce’Nedra seized that advantage. ‘My son Geran will be a leader
someday, and he needs to know where he is and how he got there.
The story will tell him that.’
Poledra shrugged. ‘Why’s it so important? What happened
yesterday – or a thousand years ago – isn’t going to change what happens
tomorrow, is it?’
‘It might. Belgarath’s story hinted at the fact that things were
going on that I didn’t even know were happening. There are two
worlds out there running side by side. If Geran doesn’t know about
both of them, he’ll make mistakes. That’s why I need Polgara’s story
– for the sake of my children – and hers.’ Ce’Nedra bit off the term
i puppies’ at the last instant. ‘Isn’t caring for our children the most
hnportant thing we do?’ Then a thought came to her. ‘You could
tell the story, you know.’
‘Wolves don’t tell stories, Ce’Nedra. We’re too busy being
wolves.’
‘Then it’s going to be up to Polgara. My son will need the rest of
the story. The well-being of his people may depend on his knowing.
I don’t know what Aldur has planned for Polgara’s children, but
it’s very likely that they’ll need the story as well.’ Ce’Nedra was
quite proud of that little twist. The appeal to Poledra’s innate sense
of pack loyalty might very well be the one thing to turn the trick.
‘Will you help me persuade Polgara?’
Poledra’s golden eyes grew thoughtful. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she
said.
That wasn’t exactly the firm conu-nitment Ce’Nedra’d been hoping
for, but Polgara brought out the twins at that point, so the Rivan
Queen wasn’t able to pursue the matter further.
When Ce’Nedra awoke the following morning, Garion was
already gone, as usual. Also, as usual, he’d neglected to pile more
wood on the fire, and the room was decidedly cold. Shivering,
Ce’Nedra got out of bed and went looking for warmth. She reasoned
that if Garion was up, Durnik would be as well, so she went directly
to Polgara’s bedroom and tapped lightly on the door.
‘Yes, Ce’Nedra,’ Aunt Pol replied from inside. She always seemed
to know who was at her door.
‘May I come in?’ Ce’Nedra asked. ‘Garion let the fire go out, and
it’s freezing in our room.’
‘Of course, dear,’ Aunt Pol replied.
Ce’Nedra opened the door, hurried to the bed, and crawled under
the covers with Aunt Pol and the babies. ‘He always does that,’ she
complained. ‘He’s so busy trying to sneak away that he doesn’t even
think about putting more wood on the fire.’
‘He doesn’t want to wake you, dear.’
‘I can always go back to sleep if I want, and I hate waking up in
a cold room.’ She gathered one of the twins in her arms and cuddled
the little child close. Ce’Nedra was a mother herself, so she was
very good at cuddling. She realized that she really missed her own
children. She began to have some second thoughts about the wisdom
of a journey in the dead of winter based on nothing more than a
whim.
The Rivan Queen and her husband’s aunt talked about various
unimportant things for a while, and then the door opened and
Polgara’s mother came in carrying a tray with three cups of steaming
tea on it. ‘Good morning, mother,’ Polgara said.
‘Not too bad,’ Poledra replied. ‘A little cold, though.’ Poledra was
so literal sometimes.
‘What are the men-folk up to?’ Aunt Pol asked.
‘Garion and Durnik are out feeding the birds and animals,’
Poledra said. ‘He’s still asleep.’ Poledra almost never spoke her husband’s
name. She set her tray down on the small table near the fireplace.
‘I think we need to talk,’ she said. She came to the bed, took up the
twins, and deposited them back in the curiously constructed double
cradle that Durnik had built for his children. Then she handed
Polgara and Ce’Nedra each a cup of tea, took the remaining one up
herself, and sat in the chair by the fire.
‘What’s so important, mother?’ Polgara asked.
Poledra pointed one finger at Ce’Nedra. ‘She talked with me
yesterday,’ she said, ‘and I think she’s got a point we -should consider.’
‘Oh?’
‘She said that her son – and his sons – will be leading the Rivans
someday, and there are things they’ll need to know. The well-being
of the Rivans might depend on their knowing. That’s a leader’s first
responsibility, isn’t it? – whether he’s leading people or wolves.’
Ce’Nedra silently gloated. Her thrown-together arguments the
previous morning had evidently brought Poledra over to her side.
‘Where are we going with this, mother?’ Polgara asked.
‘You have a responsibility as well, Polgara – to the young,’ her
mother replied. ‘That’s our first duty. The Master set you a task,
and you haven’t finished it yet.’
Polgara gave Ce’Nedra a hard look.
‘I didn’t do anything, Aunt Pol,’Ce’Nedra said with feigned
innocence. ‘I just asked for your mother’s advice, that’s all.’
The two sets of eyes – one set tawny yellow, the other deep blue
fixed themselves on her.
Ce’Nedra actually blushed.
‘She wants something, Polgara,’ Poledra said. ‘Give it to her. it
won’t hurt you, and it’s still a part of the task you freely accepted.
We wolves rely on our instincts; humans need instruction. You’ve
spent most of your life caring for the young – and instructing them
– so you know what’s required. Just set down what really happened
and be done with it.’
‘Not all of it, certainly!’ Polgara sounded shocked. ‘Some of those
things were too private.’
Poledra actually laughed. ‘You still have a great deal to learn, my
daughter. Don’t you know by now that there’s no such thing as
privacy among wolves? We share everything. The information may
be useful to the leader of the Rivans someday – and to your own
children as well – so let’s be sure they have what they need. Just
do it, Polgara. You know better than to argue with me.’
Polgara sighed. ‘Yes, mother,’ she replied submissively.
Ce’Nedra underwent a kind of epiphany at that point, and she
didn’t entirely like it. Polgara the, Sorceress was the pre-eminent
woman in the world. She had titles beyond counting, and the whole
world bowed to her, but in some mysterious way, she was still a
wolf, and when the dominant female – her mother in this case
gave an order, she automatically obeyed. Ce’Nedra’s own heritage
was mixed – part Borune and part Dryad. She’d argued extensively
with her father, the Emperor of Tolnedra, but when Xantha, Queen
of the Dryads, spoke, Ce’Nedra might complain a bit, but she
instinctively obeyed. It was built into her. She began to look at Polgara in
a slightly different way, and by extension, at herself also in a new
fashion.
‘It’s a start,’ Poledra said cryptically. ‘Now then, daughter,’ she
said to Polgara, ‘it won’t be all that difficult. I’ll talk with him, and
he’ll show you how to do it without all that foolishness with
quillpens and ink. It’s your obligation, so stop complaining.’
‘It shall be as my mother wishes,’ Polgara replied.
‘Well, then,’ Poledra said, ‘now that that’s settled, would you
ladies like to have another cup of tea?’
Polgara and Ce’Nedra exchanged a quick glance. ‘I suppose we
might as well,’ Polgara sighed.
PART ONE
Beldaran
U
LU
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CHAPTER 1
This was not my idea. I want that clearly understood right at the
outset. The notion that any one person can describe ‘what really
happened’ is an absurdity. If ten – or a hundred – people witness
an event, there will be ten – or a hundred – different versions of
what took place. What we see and how we interpret it depends