cheering both sides on in their war of mutual extinction
and permitting myself the private luxury of gloating. I
know that gloating is an unattractive thing for a king to
do, but a man needs some vices, after all.
Late in the fall, I received a letter from my good friend,
General Varana, which gave me almost as much pleasure.
The insufferable ass whom the Honeths were touting as
Ran Borune’s successor was neatly poisoned by a Horbite
assassin, may Belar bless him! The Honeths are
confounded, and Ran Borune is almost beside himself with
glee. For once, I wholeheartedly share in the Emperor’s
delight. I think I could almost grow to like that sly little
old fox.
Word has reached us that the strange fellow, Relg, and
the Marag woman Belgarath found in the caves beneath
Rak Cthol have produced their first child, a son. The boy,
we are told, has blue eyes – a fact which for some reason
has sent the Ulgos into a frenzy of celebration. My cousin
Barak tells me that this has something to do with their
religion. I didn’t pursue the matter further, since
questions of religion have always made my head ache. Barak,
incidentally, has shown no further indications that he
plans to turn into a bear on a regular basis. I’m profoundly
grateful for his restraint in this regard. The difference
between Barak and a bear is not really that extensive, but
it’s a bit embarrassing to admit close kinship to something
that really belongs out in the forest.
5377
ISLENA and I spent Erastide with Rhodar and
,Porenn at Boktor and have only just returned to Val
Alorn. Rhodar seems even more mellowed, and he dotes
on his new son, of course. He tells me that his vagrant
nephew, kheldar, has joined forces with one Yarblek, a
Nadrak who appears to be almost as big a thief as himself.
In a brilliant stroke the pair of them have managed to
capture the Nadrak fur market.
Also while we were at Boktor, Cho-Hag sent us the
news that Hettar and Belgarion’s cousin, Adara, had
produced him a grandson. Everyone seems to be having
children lately. One hopes that Belgarion and his little
queen will get into the spirit of things. I know that we’ll all
rest more securely once the line of Riva is perpetuated.
In the kingdoms of the south events, as always, turn
on politics. My cousin Grinne our ambassador at Tol
Honeth, advises me that General Varana, acting as Ran
Borune’s special envoy, has concluded a very
advantageous trade agreement with Sadi, Chief Eunuch at Queen
Salmissra’s court in Sthiss Tor. I’m sure the Empire will
grow richer, but I don’t envy them the pleasure of dealing
with the snake people.
Young King Korodullin, with surprising astuteness,
has appointed Count Reldegen Governor General of
Asturia. I’ve met Reldegen, and he seems to have normal
good sense – which in Arendia makes him an absolute
genius. One can hope that the appointment will ease the
tensions between Mimbre and Asturia – at least to the
point where there is no longer open war on the Arendish
plain.
This summer, our young Belgarion and his queen are
making the grand tour, visiting all the capitals of the west.
The move is politically sound, I think. Belgarion has made
no effort to emphasize his title, Overlord of the West, and
it’s probably time to remind a few people that he’s still
there. The advantage of having done nothing, however,
is that he’s made no mistakes and hence no enemies.
Moreover, a great deal of good will for him still exists.
Personal visits will enhance that good will. I look forward
to seeing them. I am particularly interested in Ce’Nedra’s
waist-line. One hopes that she has begun to pick up a bit
of weight. Ten or fifteen pounds on that girl would set my
mind at ease considerably.
The visit of the royal pair was pleasant. Garion
(Belgarion actually – it’s hard to remember the formal
name when you’ve just talked with him) seems to have
matured a bit and to have become more decisive. I suspect
that a part of his retiring nature may have been the result
of Polgara’s presence. That lady can be rather
overpowering at times. I’m sure that the necessity of asserting his
authority over his wife has given his backbone a bit of
steel. Ce’Nedra, alas, remains as slender as a willow.
Just before the winter storms set in, word reached us
from the south that ‘Zakath has captured the Murgo city
of Rak Hagga, a major population center lying perhaps a
thousand leagues to the south of Rak Goska.
* We dropped the apostrophe at the beginning of Zakath’s name,
although it was an indication that ‘Kal’ had been omitted (‘Kal Zakath’
hints around the edges of Zakath’s insanity. Right at first he was at least
as mad as Taur Urgas).
Unless
something happens to halt his conquest down there, we may be
obliged to take steps against him. His motives are obscure,
and his army a bit too large for my comfort.
5378
my apprehensions about ‘Zakath appear to have
,.kbeen unfounded. King Urgit of Murgodom, who
appears not to share his late father’s headlong insanity’
cleverly retreated before the advancing Malloreans,
drawing them into the vastness of the great southern forest
lying mainly in the Military District of Corut. There, using
the trees for concealment, Urgit had placed the bulk of the
Murgo army. As ‘Zakath approached Rak Gorut, Urgit fell
upon him and massacred half his army. It is difficult for
me, as I look out at the snow which chokes the streets of
Val Alorn, to adjust myself to the fact that it is summer in
those southern latitudes where Urgit and ‘Zakath contend
with each other across alien landscapes whose harsh
names in the Angarak tongue seem made up of the echoes
of nightmare. I suspect that this is because at heart I am a
simple man and that there lurks within me the unyielding
belief that the world is flat and the seasons everywhere
the same and that the sun rises upon every inch of the
world at the same time. Ah well.
This spring, Ran Borune became gravely ill, though not
even Rhodar’s most clever agents in the palace at Tol
Honeth have been able to determine the precise nature of
his malady. Surprisingly, the old fox retains enough of his
mental faculties to realize that he is no longer able to
conduct the day-to-day business of the Empire. He has
appointed General Varana Imperial Regent, and he
concerns himself only with the most pressing of affairs.
Varana’s participation in the Battle of Thull Mardu has
made him something of a national hero in Tolnedra, so the
Emperor could not have chosen more wisely.
I traveled this summer to Riva for the meeting of the
Alorn Council. Since Torak is dead, our meeting had none
of the urgency which had marked those previous, and the
entire affair was something more in the nature of a social
get-together rather than a council of war. How strange it is
to return to Riva now that peace is finally here. Belgarion
appears to be maturing, growing as it were, into his crown.
I like that young man. If I had a son, I would wish him to
be no different. Perhaps if Islena had not that morbid fear
of childbirth, I might have had such a son. We all gently
jibed at the young King for his failure to produce an heir to
his throne, and our jesting put him, I think, a bit out of
sorts. He is, perhaps, a bit too sensitive about jokes at his
expense, but time will toughen his soul. Belgarath, who
came late, was the same as always, as unchanging as the
very rocks, but Rhodar appears to be declining. He suffers
from shortness of breath and has become dropsical. He can
no longer negotiate stairs, though his mind remains alert.
While we were at Riva, a messenger arrived from
Arendia to inform Belgarion that his close friend Lelldorin
and his Mimbrate bride had just had their first child, a
girl. In the celebration which followed, I managed to get
the somewhat overly sober young monarch roaring drunk.
It’s important to see how a man behaves when he’s drunk,
if you really want to get to know him. Once you get a
gallon or so of good ale into Belgarion, he’s quite a
different young fellow. He sings abominably, however. The
following morning, his suffering was truly pitiable. The
boy obviously needs practice. Social drinking is an
important part of a monarch’s repertory.
5379
WAS greatly saddened early this year to learn of
the sudden death of my friend, Rhodar of Drasnia.
We were brother Alorn monarchs, comrades in arms and
dear personal friends. His sly wisdom, his unfailing good
humor and his true courage made him a rock upon which