terror-stricken.
Daran took his place in the seat of judgment, and an anticipatory
silence fell over the crowd. Although it was cloudy, it wasn’t really
dark, but there were still quite a few burning torches in the hands
of the gathering.
‘I’ve considered this matter, my friends,’ Daran announced, ‘and
I’ve come to my decision after much thought. The crime of witchcraft
is abhorrent to decent men, and every effort should be made to
stamp it out. This particular outbreak, however, is the result of
stubborn stupidity rather than a deliberate courting of the powers
of darkness. The Bear-cult is misguided rather than intrinsically evil.
We’re not going to need those torches,;, friends, so put them out.’
There were some murmurs of disappointment about that.
‘I’ve spoken with my father, the king, about this,’ Daran
continued, ‘and he agrees with me that our main goal in this situation
should be to separate the Cultists from the rest of the population.
We could separate them by building fires with them, but father
agrees with me that such a course might be a bit extreme in this
case. It is therefore our decision that these criminals be sentenced
to perpetual internal exile instead. They will be taken immediately
to the archipelago standing at the northern end of the Isle and
remain on those islets for the rest of their lives. Our decision is final,
and this matter is now closed.’
There were shouts of protest from the crowd, but Captain Torgun
somewhat ostentatiously moved his troops into position.
Elthek, the former Rivan Deacon, smiled faintly.
‘Don’t be too happy, Elthek,’ Kamion told him. ‘His Highness has
sent word to his grandfather, and the Cherek fleet will make sure
that none of the Cultists who evaded capture will be able to rescue
you. You will stay there for the rest of your life, old boy. Oh,
incidentally, winter’s coming on, so you’d better get to work as soon as
you arrive building some sort of shelter. Winter comes early up
there, so you haven’t got much time.’
‘What are we going to eat?’ one of the prisoners demanded.
‘That’s entirely up to you. We’ll give you some fishhooks, and
there are wild goats up there. That should get you through the
winter. When spring gets here, we’ll drop off some farm tools,
chickens, and seeds for planting.’
‘That’s all right for peasants,’ Elthek objected, ‘but what about
us? You surely don’t expect the priesthood to grub in the dirt for
food, do you?’
‘You’re not a priest any more, dear boy,’ Kamion informed him.
‘You’re a convicted felon, and the throne has no obligations to you
whatsoever. Dig or die, Elthek. It’s entirely up to you. There are
seabirds up there, and I’m told that bird-droppings make excellent
fertilizer. You’re a very creative fellow, so I’m sure you’ll do just
fine.’ Then he smiled faintly as Elthek’s expression showed that he
was gradually beginning to realize just exactly what Daran’s
seeming leniency really meant. ‘I’d just love to stay and chat with you
some more, dear boy,’ the Warder said, ‘but his Highness and I have
pressing business at the Citadel. Affairs of state, you understand.’ He
raised his voice slightly. ‘I think the prisoners are ready now,
Captain Torgun,’ he said. ‘Would you be so kind as to escort them to
their ships? They have a great deal of work ahead of them, and I’m
sure they’re all eager to get started.’
‘At once, Lord Brand!’ Torgun replied, saluting smartly.
‘Ah, Elthek,’ I said sweetly to the crestfallen clergyman.
‘What?’ his response was surly.
‘Have a nice voyage, and I do hope you’ll enjoy your new home
and your new occupation.’
And that was the last time that the Bear-Cult reared its head on
the Isle of the Winds. It’s been some three thousand years and more
since Elthek and his cohorts took up subsistence farming on those
rocky little islets, and even though they’re alorns, the Rivans took
Daran’s lesson very much to heart. The notion of spading bird
manure into rocky soil in order to eke out a miserable existence
doesn’t appeal to very many people, and those wind-swept islets
will always be there – waiting.
The following spring came late, and I began to grow more and
more restless. Then, late one night when a wind-driven rainstorm
tore at the towers of the Citadel and I tossed restlessly in my bed,
mother’s thought came to me. ‘Polgara,’ she said, ‘don’t you think it’s
about time for Daran to get married?’
To be quite honest about it, my mother’s question startled me,
since I still – irrationally, I suppose – thought of my nephew as a
child. To concede that he was growing up would have further
separated me from beldaran, I guess. Everybody has these little
lapses.
The next day, however, when Daran, Kamion and I met for our
usual discussion of the state of the kingdom, I rather closely
examined my nephew and was forced to admit that mother was probably
right. Daran had sandy blond hair, and fair-haired people always
seem to look younger than brunettes do. He was a muscular young
man, though, and wrestling with the chores of his regency had given
him a maturity far beyond his years.
‘Why are you looking at me that way, Aunt Pol?’ he asked
curiously.
‘Oh, no particular reason. I think you missed a spot under your
chin while you were shaving this morning, is all.’
He ran his fingers up and down his neck. ‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘it is
a little furry down there, isn’t it? Do you think I should grow a
beard?’
‘No,’ I told him, ‘definitely not. There are enough shaggy people
around here already. Now, then, what are we going to do about
this shortage of priests? Most of them are up north with Elthek.’
‘We can get along without priests, Aunt Pol. The priests of Belar
always seem to get Bear-Cult ideas, for some reason, and I don’t
want to go through that again.’
‘We need priests, Daran.’
‘What for?’
‘To perform weddings and funerals,’ I told him rather bluntly.
‘Young people here on the Isle are beginning to find alternatives to
marriage, and that should probably be discouraged, wouldn’t you
say? I’m sure it’s all very entertaining, but it does tend to erode the
morals of your people, don’t you agree?’
He actually blushed about that.
‘Why don’t you let me take care of the problem, your Highness?’
Kamion suggested. ‘We could recruit priests of Belar in Cherek and
Drasnia, but that might just reintroduce the Bear-Cult here on the
Isle. I’ll talk with the palace chaplain about it, and we can probably
set up a theological seminary in the temple. I’ll lay out the
curriculum, though, so we can be fairly sure that unorthodoxy doesn’t
creep in.’
‘You’re the scholar, Kamion,’ Daran shrugged. ‘Do whatever you
think best.’ He looked at the window where midmorning light
streamed into the room. ‘What hour would you say it is?’ he asked
me. ‘I’ve got an appointment with my tailor this morning.’
‘It’s the fourth hour past dawn, dear,’ I told him.
‘It seems later for some reason.’
‘Trust me, Daran.’
‘Of course, Aunt Pol.’ He rose to his feet. ‘I’ll be back after lunch.’
He flexed his arms. ‘This doublet’s getting a little tight across the
shoulders. Maybe my tailor can let it out a bit.’ Then he crossed to
the door and left the room.
‘Kamion,’ I said.
‘Yes, Pol?’
‘Let’s find him a wife. Bachelorhood’s habit-forming, I’ve noticed.’
Kamion burst out laughing.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘I’ve never heard it put that way before, Pol. Why don’t I draw
up a list of all the eligible – and unattached – young noblewomen
here?’
‘Not just the noblewomen, Kamion,’ I told him quite firmly.
‘Is the prince allowed to marry a commoner?’ Kamion seemed
startled.
‘He’s allowed to marry anyone I tell him to marry, Kamion,
I said. ‘We’re dealing with a very unusual family here, so normal
rules don’t apply. We won’t be choosing Daran’s wife. That
decision’s going to come from someone else.’
‘Oh? Who?’
‘I’m not at liberty to discuss it – and you wouldn’t believe me if
I told you.’
‘One of those things?’ he asked with some distaste.
‘Exactly. Get started on your list while I get some instructions.’
He sighed.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I hate this, Pol. I like for things to be rational.’
Then it was my turn to laugh. ‘Do you actually believe that the
process of love and marriage is rational, Kamion? We humans aren’t
exactly like birds attracted to a display of bright feathers, but we
come very close. Trust me in this, my friend.’
‘You’re using that phrase quite a lot this morning, Pol.’
,if you and Daran would just listen to me, I wouldn’t have to
repeat myself so often. Run along now, Kamion, I’ve got work to
do.’
I returned to my rooms and went looking for mother with my