POLGARA THE SORCERESS BY DAVID EDDINGS

won’t you? Perhaps a week in advance? Long enough for me to buy up

most of the assets of the Vorduvians, Honeths, and Horbites, at any rate.

I should be able to buy them out at well below cost. Then, when normal

commerce with Arendia resumes, I’ll make millions..’

‘I always like to help a friend get ahead in the world,’ I said.

‘Polgara, I love you!’ he exclaimed exultantly.

‘Ran Borune!’ I said- in feigned shock, ‘we’ve only just met!’

He laughed, and then he danced a little jig of pure delight. ‘I’ll skin

them, Polgara!’ he crowed. ‘I’ll skin them alive! I’ll put those arrogant

northerners in debt for generations!’

‘After you’ve stripped off their hides, you don’t necessarily have to

keep my part in our little arrangement a secret. I think it’d be sort of nice

to have all of northern Tolnedra shudder every time someone so much as

whispers my name.’

‘I’ll see to it,’ he promised. Then he pointed at his ailing rose-bush.

‘What kind of fish?’ he asked.

‘Carp, I think,’ I replied. ‘They’re bigger – and fatter.’

‘I’ll get right at it. Would you like to go fishing with me?’

‘Some other time, perhaps. I’d better get on back to Arendia. I’ll close

the borders in two weeks. That should give you time enough to swindle

the northerners.’

‘Come by any time, Polgara. My doors are always open to you.’

I changed form at that point. Ran Borune and I were getting along

famously, but I did want him to remember exactly who I was. I

circled him, brushing his startled face with my wing-tips, and then

I flew off.

There are many ways to head off a war, but I’m particularly proud

of that one. Not only did I virtually ruin the people who were most

offending me, but I also gained a friend.

Arendia remained peaceful after that, and I even began to arrange

a few intermarriages to help blur the distinctions which had always

been so helpful in starting new wars.

It was early in the twenty-eighth century – about 2710, I believe

– when the dukes, Conerian of Wacune, Kanallan of Asturia, and

Enasian of Mimbre made a suggestion that I thought was just a bit

on the ridiculous side, but they were so enthusiastic about the whole

idea that I somewhat reluctantly went along with them. I think the

notion probably originated with Enasian, since the Mimbrates have

always been addicted to epic poetry and its overblown conventions.

What they proposed was nothing less than a grand tournament

involving nobles from all four duchies, with the winner of that

tournament – assuming that anyone survived a week or so of formalized

mayhem – to be designated my champion.

What did I need with a champion?

They were all so terribly sincere, though. ‘Dear Lady,’ Enasian

said, with actual tears standing in his eyes, ‘thou must have a

knightprotector to shield thee from insult and affront. Rude scoundrels,

perceiving thine unprotected state, might exceed the bounds of

courteous behavior and offer thee incivilities. My brother dukes and I,

of course, would leap to thy defense, but it seemeth to me – and

Gonerian and Kanallan do heartily agree – that thou shouldst have

an invincible knight at arms at thine immediate disposal to chastise

knavery whensoever it doth rear its ugly head.’

He was so sincere that I hadn’t the heart to point out the obvious

to him. I needed someone to protect and defend me almost as much

as I needed a third foot. The more I thought about it, though, the

more I came to realize that a ‘sporting event’ – particularly one

involving formalized violence – could be a fairly good substitute

for war, just in case someone hungered for the ‘good old days’.

Because of its centralized location, we decided to hold the

tournament on a field adjoining the Great Arendish Fair. Stands were

erected to provide seating for the spectators, lists for jousting with

lances and war-horses were laid out, and, sensing a probable need

for them, I brought the entire faculty of the College of Practical

Medicine in Sulturn along with me to tend to the casualties.

since the festivities were held in my honor, I was able to ban the

more potentially lethal events. I firmly banned the grand melee,

for example. There was some pouting about that, but I felt that a

generalized tavern-brawl involving men in full armor might tax the

capacity of our field-hospital. I also forbade the use of battle-axes

and chain maces, and insisted on blunted lances. Quite naturally, the

core of the tournament was the exquisitely formal jousting matches

colorful events where knights in shining armor and wearing red or

gold or deep blue surcoats charged each other across the bright

green turf attempting to unhorse each other with twenty-foot lances.

Since even the winner of such an event is likely to hear bells ringing

in his head for several hours after his victory, we interspersed other

events so that the knights might recover. There were archery contests

for the yeomen, catapult matches judged on distance and accuracy

for the engineers, and weight lifting, pole-tossing and rock throwing

contests for the serfs and freemen. There were other entertainments

as well – juggling, singing, and dancing.

It was all very festive, but it went on for weeks, and quite naturally

I had to sit through all of it wondering just what the prize might

be for inhuman patience.

Eventually, as was fairly obvious he would be from the first round

of jousting matches, the ultimate winner was the then-current Baron

of Mandor, a massively muscular Mimbrate knight named Mandorathan

. I knew him quite well, since my father had urged me to

keep an eye on his family. Father quite obviously had plans for the

Mandors.

I liked Mandorathan – once I persuaded him to stop falling on

his knees every time I entered the room. A man in full armor is so

noisy when he does that. I did notice that the level of civility at my

Court’ improved enormously when my fully armored champion

stood just behind my chair looking ominous. My vassals by now

had fairly good manners, but Mandorathan’s presence encouraged

them to polish those manners until they positively gleamed.

The twenty-eighth century was a time of peace and prosperity in

Arendia, and my duchy flourished, in no small part I think because

mY vassals followed my lead in the business of enriching the soil.

There are many lakes in what is now Sendaria, and most of them

have peat bogs surrounding them. I’d discovered on the Isle of the

Winds that peat does wonders when plowed into the soil, and if

the weather cooperated only slightly, every year in my realm was

better than the previous one. I introduced new crops and brought

in new strains of cattle from Algaria. I pillaged uncle Beldin’s library

for treatises on agriculture – largely written by scholars at the University

of Melcene – and I applied the most advanced techniques

in my domain. I built roads from farm to market, and to some degree

I controlled prices to insure that the farmers in the duchy were not

swindled by the merchants who bought their crops. I was denounced

in some circles as a busybody, but I didn’t really care about that. I

mothered the Duchy of Erat outrageously, and as time went on, my

subjects came to realize that ‘Mumsy would take care of everything,’

There were a couple of things that ‘Mumsy’ did that they didn’t

like, however. I absolutely insisted that they keep their villages tidy,

for one thing, and laborers eager to get to the nearest tavern after

Work didn’t much enjoy picking up their tools before they went off

to celebrate. I also put a stop to wife-beating, a favorite pastime of

a surprising number of men. My methods were very direct. A man

who’s stupid enough to beat his wife isn’t likely to listen to reason,

so I instructed the constable of each village to ‘persuade’ wife-beaters

to find another hobby. I did urge the constables not break too manybe

bones in the process, however. A man with two broken legs can’t

really put in a full day’s work, after all. There was, I remember, one

very thick-headed fellow in the village of Mid Tolling who was so

stubborn about it that he wound up with both arms and both legs

broken before he got the point. After that, he was the politest

husband you’ve ever seen.

The tournament at the Great Arendish Fair became a fixture, an

addendum, if you will, to the annual meeting of the Arendish

Council.-teon of Asturia was defenestrated by his barons a few years

later. That’s one of the disadvantages of living in a palace with high

towers. There’s always the possibility of ‘accidentally’ falling out of

a window about seven stories above a flagstoned courtyard.

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