POLGARA THE SORCERESS BY DAVID EDDINGS

Asturian dukes over the centuries, after all. What the Asturians

chose to overlook was the fact that I’d also jerked a goodly number

of Wacites and Mimbrates up short as well. The Asturians seemed

to want to look upon me as an hereditary enemy who hovered in

the shadows waiting for the chance to thwart all their schemes.

What ultimately happened in northern Arendia came about

largely because Duke Moratham of Mimbre was in his mid-eighties,

and was quite obviously senile. His so-called ‘advisors’ were

untroubled by scruples, and, since the doddering old Moratham

automatically approved everything they put before him, they were

the actual rulers of mimbre. Carteon III of Asturia saw his chance,

and, to put it crudely, he began buying up Mimbrate nobles by the

score.

I should have been paying more attention. A great deal of the

suffering I’ve endured about what happened to Wacune derives in

no small measure from the fact that it was at least partially my fault.

The meeting of the Arendish Council in 2940 was placid, even

tedious. Duke Moratham slept through most of it, and there wasn’t

really anything exciting enough going on to wake him. I’d have

probably suggested a regency, but Moratham’s only surviving son

was quite obviously unfit to rule. He took his privileges very

seriously, but gave little thought to his responsibilities.

It was after Ontrose and I had returned to Vo Wacune that my

father stopped by to see how I was doing.

I was in my rose-garden when my maid escorted him Out to see

me. Knowing my father as I do, I’m fairly sure that he’d snooped

about a few times in the two centuries or so since I’d last actually

seen him, but he’d evidently not found anything to complain about,

so he’d left me alone. ‘Well, Old Wolf,’ I greeted him, ‘what have

you been up to?’

‘Not too much, Pol,’ he replied.

‘Is the world still all in one piece?’

He shrugged. ‘More or less. I had to patch it a few times, but

there haven’t been any major disasters.’

I carefully cut one of my favorite roses and held it up for him to

see. ‘Would you look at this?’ I said.

He hardly even glanced at it. ‘Very nice,’ he said indifferently.

Father doesn’t really have much of an eye for beauty.

‘Very nice? That’s all you can say? It’s absolutely gorgeous, father.

Ontrose developed it just for me.’

‘Who’s Ontrose?’

‘He’s my champion, father. He rights wrongs for me, and he

chastises anybody who insults me. You’d be amazed at how polite

people are to me when he’s around.’ Then I decided to stop beating

about the bush. ‘Oh, incidentally, he’s also the man I’m going to

marry – just as soon as he gets up the nerve to ask me.’

Father’s face grew wary at that point. He knew me well enough

not to come down on the wrong side of me. ‘Interesting idea, Pol,’

he said blandly. ‘Why don’t you send him around so that he and I

can get to know each other?’

‘You don’t approve,’ I accused.

‘I didn’t say that, Pol. I just said that I don’t know him. if you’re

serious about this, he and I ought to have at least a nodding

acquaintance with each other. Have you thought your way completely

through this, though? There could be some fairly serious drawbacks,

you know.’

‘Such as what?’

‘I’d imagine that there’s quite a difference in your ages, for one

thing. How old would you say he is?’

‘He’s grown up, father. He’s over thirty.’

‘That’s nice, but you’re about nine hundred and fifty, aren’t you?’

‘Nine hundred and forty, actually. So what?’

He sighed ‘You’ll outlive him, Pol. He’ll be old before you’ve

turned around twice.’

‘But I’ll be happy, father – or aren’t I supposed to have any

happiness?’

,I was just pointing it out, that’s all. Were you planning to have

any children?’

,of course.’

‘That’s not really a very good idea, you know. Your children will

grow up, get old, and die. You won’t. You’ll go through the same

thing you went through when Beldaran died, and that very nearly

killed you, as I recall.’

‘Maybe when I get married, my life will become normal. Maybe

I’ll grow old, too.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it, Pol. The Mrin Codex has a lot to say about

you and what you’ll be doing on down the road.’

‘I’m not going to base my life on the ravings of an idiot, father.

Besides, you got married, didn’t you? If it was all right for you,

it’s certainly all right for me.’ I deliberately glossed over mother’s

peculiarities. ‘Besides, if Ontrose marries me, his lifespan might be

extended as well.’

‘Why should it? He’s ordinary, and you’re not. His life might seem

longer, though. You’re not the easiest person in the world to get

along with. Unless this Ontrose fellow’s a saint, he’s probably going

to have more than his share of bad days.’

‘Why don’t you just keep your nose out of my affairs, Old Man?’

‘Please, Pol. Don’t throw the word “affair” around like that. In

this particular case it makes me very nervous.’

‘You know where the gate is, father. Use it – now.’

And that more or less ended the conversation.

*CHAPTER21

The Privy Council of Duke Andrion of Wacune met in an airy room

high in one of the towers of the palace one glowing afternoon. Our

conference-room was carpeted and draped in a deep maroon, which

contrasted nicely with the marble walls, and the massive furniture

added that touch of permanence. ‘Our alternatives, it seemeth to

me, do grow more scant with the passage of time,’ Duke Andrion

said glumly to the rest of us. Duke Andrion was a dark-haired man

in his mid-thirties, and he’d only recently ascended to the seat of

power in Wacune. My presence at a Privy Council meeting in Vo

Wacune might seem a bit odd, but I’d seen to it years ago that I

was a member of all four Privy Councils in Arendia. I wanted to

make sure that no Arendish duke did anything significant without

my permission.

‘Truly, your Grace,’ Ontrose agreed with his duke. ‘The Oriman

family hath been bent on our destruction for years. I do fear me

that war is inevitable.’

‘There are alternatives, my Lords,’ I told them quite firmly.

‘Nerasin was at least as great a scoundrel as this endless succession of

Garteons, and we managed to bring him to his senses.’

‘The Oriman family hath no more sense than honor, Lady

Polgara,’ Baron Lathan asserted. Lathan appeared to have recovered

from his defeat at the hands of Ontrose during the tournament, and

they were friends again. ‘It seemeth to me that Asturia must once

again be subdued if the peace is to be kept.’

‘Let’s avoid that if possible, my Lord Lathan,’ I suggested. ‘Let

me go talk with Carteon before we start mobilizing armies. Wars

are very hard on the budget.’

‘Oh, yes!’ Andrion agreed fervently.

Then I looked quickly at Ontrose. ‘No,’ I said firmly.

‘I fail to grasp thy meaning, your Grace,’ he confessed.

‘You can’tgo along, Ontrose. I’m going to say some things to

Garteon in language I’d rather you didn’t hear.’

‘I cannot permit thee to go unescorted, my Lady.’

‘Permit?’ I asked him ominously.

‘Poor choice of words there, perhaps,’ he admitted.

‘Very poor, Ontrose. You’re a poet, so you shouldn’t stumble over

language that way.’ I laid a fond hand on his. ‘I’m only teasing,

Ontrose.’ Then I looked at Duke Andrion. ‘Let me talk with Carteon

before you start mobilizing, your Grace. His grandfather came

around after I spoke with him. Perhaps that tiny bit of good sense

runs in the family.’

Baron Lathan looked as if he were about to protest.

‘We can always mobilize the army if I fail, Baron,’ I told him.

‘When we get right down to the bottom of it, the Oriman family’s

animosity is directed at me, not Wacune. I’ve been disrupting

Asturian scheming for a long time, and I intend to continue. Wacune and

Erat are like brother and sister, so Carteon knows that if he attacks

Wacune, I’ll attack him. Luring me into war is probably his main

goal. Since this is really a squabble between Carteon and me, it’s

best if he and I settle it with a private little chat.’

‘We shall be guided by thee, your Grace,’ Andrion said.

‘Excellent decision, your Grace,’ I complimented him.

I went to Asturia in the usual way and snooped around Vo Astur

for almost a week, but I couldn’t find so much as a trace of Carteon.

I loitered unobserved in the grey hallways, hoping to catch some

hints about his location, but the Asturian nobility seemed totally

uninformed as to his whereabouts. I flew on to look around at the

estates of the members of the Oriman family, but he wasn’t at any

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