POLGARA THE SORCERESS BY DAVID EDDINGS

thee out of the hearing of others.’ I just adore archaic speech, don’t

you?

‘That is not customary, Lady – ?’he replied, fishing for my name.

The duke was a handsome fellow with flowing brown hair, and he

wore a regal purple velvet doublet and a circlet that stopped just

short of being a crown.

‘I will identify myself unto thee when we are alone, your Grace,’

I advised him and went on to suggest the possibility of spies lurking

in the background. Arends absolutely adore intrigue, so the duke

walked right into that one. He rose. offered me his arm, and led me

to a private chamber where we could talk. Father, in the form of a

somewhat flea-bitten hound, trailed along behind us.

The duke escorted me to a pleasant room where filmy curtains

billowed in the breeze coming in through the open windows. He

shooed my father out, closed the door, and then turned to me. ‘And

now, dear Lady,’ he said, ‘prithee disclose thy name unto me.’

‘My name’s Polgara, your Grace,’ I replied. ‘You may have heard

of me.’ I deliberately dropped the archaic speech. Archaism, though

quite lovely, has a tendency to lull the mind, and I wanted his Grace

to be very alert.

‘The daughter of Ancient Belgarath?’ He said it in a startled tone.

‘Exactly, your Grace.’ I was a little surprised to find that he knew

of me. I probably shouldn’t have been. What some in the west refer

to as ‘the brotherhood of sorcerers’ is the stuff of myth and legends,

and Arends have a natural affinity for that sort of thing.

‘My poor house is overwhelmed that thou hast so graciously

honored it with thy presence.’

I smiled at him. ‘Please, your Grace,’ I said in a slightly whimsical

tone, ‘let’s not get carried away here. Your house is the most

beautiful I’ve ever seen, and I’m the one who’s honored to be received

here.’

‘That was a little extravagant, wasn’t it?’ he admitted with a rueful

unarendish candor. ‘Thy statement, however, startled me, and I fell

back on extravagance to cover my confusion. To what do we owe

the pleasure of thy divine company?’

‘Hardly divine, your Grace. You’ve been receiving some bad

advice lately. There’s a Tolnedran merchant here in Vo Wacune

who’s been telling you that he speaks for Ran Vordue, but he’s

lying. Ran Vordue probably doesn’t even know him. The house of

Vordue is not offering you an alliance.’

‘I had thought my discussions with the merchant Haldon were

most private, Lady Polgara.’

‘I have certain advantages, your Grace. Things here in Arendia

have a habit of changing almost hourly, so perhaps you could tell

me with whom you’re currently at war.’

‘The Asturians – this week,’ he replied wryly. ‘Should that war

chance to grow boring, we can always find some excuse to declare

war on Mimbre, I suppose. We haven’t had a good war with the

Mimbrates for nearly two years now.’ I was almost certain that he

was joking.

‘Are there any alliances?’ I asked.

‘We have a rather tentative agreement with the Mimbrates,’ he

replied. ‘The Mimbrates have no more reason to be fond of Asturians

than do we. If truth be known, however, my alliance with Corrolin

of Mimbre is little more than an agreement that he will not attack

my southern border whilst I deal with that wretched little drunkard,

oldoran of Asturia. I had hopes of an alliance with Tolnedra, but

if thine information should prove true, those hopes are dashed.’ He

,jammed his fist down on the table. ‘What doth Haldon hope to

achieve by this deception?’ he blurted out. ‘Why would he bring

this spurious offer from his emperor?’

‘Ran Vordue isn’t Haldon’s master, your Grace. Haldon speaks

for Ctuchik.’

‘The Murgo?’

‘Ctuchik’s lineage is a little more complicated than that, but let it

pass for now.’

‘Of what concern are Arendish internal affairs to the Murgos?’

‘Arendish internal affairs concern everyone, your Grace. Your poor

Arendia’s an ongoing disaster, and disasters have a way of

spreading. In this case, though, Ctuchik wants the strife to spread. He wants

confusion here in the west to open the door for his Master.’

‘His Master?’

‘Ctuchik’s one of Torak’s disciples, and the time’s not too far off

when the Dragon-God’s going to invade the western kingdoms. This

Haldon’s only one of the people Ctuchik’s insinuated into Arendia.

There are others who are stirring up similar mischief in Asturia and

Mimbre. If each duchy can be persuaded that it has an alliance with

the Tolnedrans, and the legions don’t appear when and where you

expect them to, you, Corrolin, and Oldoran will probably attack

Tolnedra – either individually or in some hastily-formed alliance. That’s

Ctuchik’s ultimate goal – war between Arendia and Tolnedra.’

‘What a ghastly thought!’ he exclaimed. ‘No alliance between

Corrolin, Oldoran, and me could ever be firm enough for us to

Withstand the imperial legions! We’d be swarmed under!’

‘Precisely. And if Tolnedra crushes and then annexes Arendia, the

Alorns will be drawn in to protect their interests. All the kingdoms of

the west could go up in flames.’ A thought came to me at that point.

‘I think I’d better suggest to my father that he go have a look at

Aloria. If Ctuchik’s stirring things up here in the south, he could

very well be doing the same in the north. We don’t need another

Outbreak of clan wars in the Alorn kingdoms. If everybody here in

the west is fighting everybody else, the door’ll be wide open for an

invasion from Mallorea.’

‘I would not insult thee for all this world, Lady Polgara, but

Haldon hath documents bearing the seal and signature of Ran

Vordue.’

‘The imperial seal isn’t that difficult to duplicate, your Grace. I

can make one for you right here and now, if you’d like.’

‘Thou art most skilled in the devious world of statecraft, Lady

Polgara.’

‘I’ve had some practice, your Grace.’ I thought for a moment. ‘If

we do this right, we might be able to turn Ctuchik’s scheme to our

own advantage. I’m not trying to be offensive here, but it’s a part

of the Arendish nature to need an enemy. Let’s see if we can re-direct

that enmity. Wouldn’t it be nicer to hate Murgos rather than each

other?’

‘Far nicer, my Lady. I’ve met a few Murgos, and I’ve never

encountered one that I liked. They are a most unlovable race, it

seemeth to me.’

‘Indeed they are, your Grace, and their God is even worse.’

‘Doth Torak plan immediate action against the west?’

‘I don’t think even Torak himself knows what he plans, your

Grace.’

‘Prithee, Lady Polgara, my friends do call me Kathandrion, and

this vital information which thou hath brought unto me hath surely

made thee my friend.’

‘As it pleaseth thee, Lord Kathandrion,’ I said with a polite little

curtsey.

He bowed in reply, and then he laughed. ‘We are getting along

well, aren’t we, Polgara?’ he suggested.

‘I rather thought so myself,’ I agreed, a little startled by the duke’s

lapse into what I considered to be normal speech. As we came to

know each other better, Kathandrion stepped down from’high style’

more and more frequently, and I took that to be an indication of a

fair level of intelligence. Kathandrion could – and frequently did

stun his listeners into near-insensibility with flowery language, but

there was a real mind hiding behind all those ‘thees,’ ‘thous,’ and

‘forasmuches’. When he chose to speak normally, his tone was often

humorously self-deprecatory, and his ability to laugh at himself was

most unarendish. ‘We’d probably better get used to each other,

Kathandrion,’ I told him. ‘I have a suspicion that you and I have a

long way to go together.’

‘I could not wish for more pleasant company, dear Lady.’ He

reverted to ‘high style’, and the sudden contrast also contained a

hidden chuckle. This was a very complicated man. Then he sighed

just a bit theatrically.

,Why so great a sigh, friend Kathandrion?’

,If the truth be known, thou hast given me reason to consider

abdication, Polgara,’ he lamented. ‘The peace and quiet of a

monastery do beckon unto me most invitingly. Are international politics

always so murky?’

,Usually. Sometimes they’re worse.’

‘I wonder if they’ll make me shave my head,’ he mused, tugging

a long, brown strand of hair around so that he could look at it.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘When I enter the monastery.’

‘Oh, come now, Kathandrion. We’re having fun, aren’t we?’

‘Thou has a peculiar definition of that word, Polgara. I was quite

content with hating Asturians and Mimbrates. Life was so simple

then. Now hast thou loaded my poor brain top-full of other strife

to consider – and it is not that capacious a brain.’

I put my hand affectionately on his arm. ‘You’ll do just fine,

Kathandrion. I’ll see to it that you don’t make too many mistakes.

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