Polgara the Sorceress (21 page)

No, I didn’t have anything to do with it. You know how my father feels about tampering with the weather.

The nobles and commons who joined us that evening to serve as witnesses were all men of impeccable character and good reputation. They were not, despite Anrak’s objections, coached or prompted in any way. Indeed, they were not even advised in advance that they were going to spend an entertaining evening out in the still-dripping forest. Kamion, acting in his official capacity as Rivan Warder, simply sent men out to round them all up as the sun went down. Most of them were at supper when they were summoned to the Citadel, and there was a bit of grumbling about that.

‘What’s this all about, Kamion?’ a white-bearded old earl demanded when we all gathered in the stables. The earl’s name was Jarok, a fairly common Alorn name.

‘I want you all to see something, my Lord Jarok,’ Kamion replied.

‘What are we supposed to look at?’ Jarok was obviously not happy. He was an old man with a young wife, and he’d had other plans for the evening, I guess.

‘I’m not at liberty to discuss it, my Lord,’ Kamion told him. ‘All you and the others need to know is that you’re going to witness a crime being committed this evening. The criminals will be taken into custody and they’ll be tried later for their crime. You gentlemen will perform your civic duty and testify at that trial.’

‘Belar’s teeth, Kamion!’ the grouchy old Jarok swore, ‘just hang the rogues and have done with it.’

‘We aren’t talking about a simple burglary or an
incidental murder, my Lord. This is a wide-ranging conspiracy that threatens the security of the throne and the entire kingdom. We want to stamp it out, so we’ll need an iron-clad case to take before the Prince Regent.’

That bad?’ Jarok blinked. ‘It’s really bad enough to take before Daran himself instead of a magistrate?’

‘Probably even worse, my Lord. If possible, I’d take the matter to Riva himself.’

‘What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go!’

I
love
the way Alorns can change direction in the blink of an eye, don’t you?

The ride up the gorge which adjoined the one where the Cult was meeting wasn’t very pleasant. The moon and stars were out, but the woods were absolutely soaked by the day’s rain, and we were all wet to the skin by the time we reached the narrow pass that connected the two deep valleys. Things got worse at that point. We all dismounted and started wading up the hill through the sodden undergrowth.

The Cultists’ bonfire down at the bottom of the gorge was clearly visible when we reached the crest, but it became less so as we crept down through the trees.

‘I haven’t had this much fun in years, Pol,’ Anrak whispered to me as we struggled down the steep hill.

‘Did you plan to ever grow up, Anrak?’ I asked him rather tartly as I tried to unsnag the hem of my dress from a thorny bush.

‘Not if I can help it, dear Lady.’ His grin was infectious, and I had to stifle a laugh.

The clearing which surrounded the Cult’s bonfire was quite large. ‘Spread out, gentlemen,’ Kamion’s instructions were passed around in whispers. ‘Let’s try to see everything that happens out there.’ The nobles and merchants and craftsmen comprising our group of witnesses obediently fanned out, moving as silently as possible and all crouched low to avoid being seen. Then we all sank down onto the wet ground to watch.

Elthek had not yet put in an appearance, and the Cultists, all dressed in bearskins, were gathered about the fire drinking strong ale and singing – badly – old Alorn folk-songs.
One of the soldiers Kamion had out in the woods came crawling up to join us. He was a stocky man with a no-nonsense kind of face. ‘What are your orders, Lord Brand?’ he whispered.

‘Tell your men to stay out of sight, Sergeant,’ Kamion instructed. ‘Did those people around the fire leave any sentries out there in the forest?’

‘No, my Lord Warder. As soon as the first ale-barrel was broached, they all came in out of the woods.’ The soldier coughed in a slightly embarrassed way. ‘Ah – Lord Brand?’

‘Yes, Sergeant?’

‘I know it isn’t proper for me to take any kind of action without orders, but something came up, and I had to deal with it on my own.’

‘Oh?’

‘When those people around the fire started coming up the gorge, it was fairly obvious that they were members of the Bear-Cult. Some of my men have sympathies in that direction, so I had to take steps. Nobody got hurt,’ he added hastily, ‘at least not too badly. I’ve got those men chained to trees a couple of miles up the gorge, and their mouths are stuffed full of old boot socks to keep them from shouting out warnings. Is it all right that I did that, my Lord?’

‘Perfectly all right, Captain.’

‘Ah – I’m only a sergeant, my Lord.’

‘Not any more, you aren’t. What’s your name, Captain?’

‘Torgun, my Lord.’

‘All right then, Captain Torgun. Go back to your men and spread them out so that you’ve got every possible escape route covered.’ Kamion lifted a curved hunting horn. ‘When you hear me blow on this, order your men to charge. I want everyone wearing a bear-skin clapped in chains.’

‘They’ll probably try to fight, my Lord. Do I have permission to use force?’

‘Do whatever it takes, Captain Torgun.’

The newly promoted soldier’s answering grin was one of the most evil I’ve ever seen. ‘Try not to kill
too
many of them, Captain,’ I added – just as a precaution, you understand.

The look of innocence he gave me was so transparent that I almost burst out laughing. ‘Of course not, Lady Polgara. I wouldn’t dream of it.’ Then he slithered away.

‘Good move there, Kamion,’ Earl Jarok whispered hoarsely. ‘Field promotions are one of the best ways to get good officers. That fellow would follow you into fire right now.’

‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, my Lord. Being wet’s bad enough.’

The party around the bonfire was getting rowdier as the ale flowed freely. The Cultists were all shuffling around the fire, tankards in hand, trying to imitate the shambling walk of their totem. Then Elthek came up the gorge and trailing along behind him were most of the priests of Belar on the Isle of the Winds.

‘We’re going to decimate the priesthood, I’m afraid,’ Kamion whispered to Anrak and me.

‘It won’t be hard to find replacements, Kamion,’ Anrak assured him. The priestly life’s fairly comfortable, and it doesn’t involve much sweating.’

Then Elthek addressed the shaggy congregation for an hour or so, punctuating his oration with simple tricks of ‘magic’. The flames in the bonfire changed colors several times as the Deacon’s underlings surreptitiously tossed assorted powders into the coals. A ‘ghost’, which was no more than a gauzy veil suspended on a black string, appeared, billowing in the heat of the fire. A second moon, actually a large glass globe filled with fireflies, rose over the gorge. Rocks started to bleed, and a ‘dead’ sheep was resurrected. It was all fairly transparent, but Elthek ladled on high drama and the drunken Cultists were all suitably impressed.

‘What do you think, Pol?’ Kamion asked me. ‘Is that witchcrafty enough for our purposes?’

‘Witchcrafty?’ I asked in some amusement.

‘I’ve always had this way with words,’ he said modestly.

‘You’re the expert in this area, Pol,’ Anrak said. ‘Is Elthek
really
performing magic out there?’

‘No. It’s all pure fakery. It should be enough to convict him, though.’

‘My feelings exactly,’ Kamion said. He reached for his hunting horn.

‘Aren’t you going to wait for the naked girls?’ Anrak sounded disappointed.

‘Ah – no, Anrak. I don’t think so. Let’s not complicate the trial by adding women to the list of the accused.’ He lifted his horn and blew a long, brazen note, calling in Captain Torgun and his men.

The soldiers were well trained, and the Cultists were far gone in drink, so it wasn’t even a very interesting fight, and the casualties were minimal. Elthek kept screaming, ‘How dare you?’ but I noticed that he didn’t reach for his sword. Finally, Captain Torgun grew tired of the screaming and stilled the Deacon’s objections with his fist.

It was dawn by the time the line of chained Cultists were dragged into Riva’s city. We threw them into the dungeon under the temple of Belar and then Kamion spoke briefly with Captain Torgun before he, Anrak and I escorted our group of witnesses back up the hill to the Citadel to advise Daran that our little excursion had been successful.

The ‘trial’ took place the following day in the public square in front of the temple. I noticed that Captain Tor-gun’s soldiers had passed the time erecting a fair number of posts in the square and piling firewood around them – just in case.

‘Why are we doing this here instead of in the throne room?’ I asked Daran before the proceedings began.

‘I want everyone here in the city to hear the testimony, Aunt Pol,’ he explained. ‘Let’s fix it so that the Bear-Cult doesn’t reappear just as soon as my back’s turned.’

Daran sat on a large, ornate chair – Elthek’s, actually – which Torgun’s soldiers had dragged out of the temple and placed where everyone could see it. Then the Bear-Cultists, still in chains and seriously disheveled, were dragged up out of the temple dungeon and forced to sit in a huddled group at the foot of the broad stair that led up to the temple door. The square was full of people as the proceedings began.

Kamion, Warder of Riva, rose to his feet to address the assembled citizens. ‘A crime has been committed here on
our island, my friends,’ he began, ‘and we are gathered here to sit in judgment.’

‘What crime are we talking about, Lord Brand?’ a well-coached townsman demanded in a booming voice that could be heard all over the square. The Rivan Warder, I noted, was not the sort to leave anything to chance.

‘The crime of witchcraft,’ Kamion replied.

Elthek, battered and bruised by Captain Torgun’s fists, tried to leap to his feet, but that’s a little hard to do when you’re chained to other people.

The proceedings went smoothly, I thought. Kamion’s questioning was masterly, and the witnesses all confirmed the fact that Elthek had performed ‘magic’ at the gathering in the gorge.

Then Captain Torgun dragged the Rivan Deacon to his feet.

‘What say you to the charges?’ Kamion demanded of the prisoner.

‘Lies! All lies!’ Elthek almost screamed. ‘And that law doesn’t apply to me!’

The law applies to everybody,’ Daran told him firmly.

‘I’m a priest! I’m a Deacon of the Church of Belar!’

‘All the more reason for you to obey the law.’

‘It wasn’t really magic!’

‘Oh?’ Daran said mildly.
‘I
can’t call up ghosts or create another moon or make rocks bleed. Can you, Lord Brand?’

‘I wouldn’t even want to try, your Highness,’ Kamion replied.

‘Let’s get on with this,’ Earl Jarok boomed.

‘How say the people?’ Daran asked in a loud, formal voice. ‘Are these men guilty of the charge of witchcraft?’

‘YES!’
the crowd roared. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that deer on the other side of the Isle were startled by the sound.

‘Return the prisoners to the dungeon,’ Daran instructed. ‘I will consider this matter and devise a suitable punishment for this foul crime.’

I’ll be the first to admit that the entire business was crudely staged, but we’re talking about Alorns here, and subtlety’s never been an Alorn strong point.

The extended period during which Daran ‘considered’ his final judgment gave the prisoners plenty of time to look out through the tiny, barred, ground-level windows at the grim stakes out in the square.

It was cloudy on the day when Daran announced his judgment, one of those cool, dry days when the clouds obscuring the sky gave no hint of rain, but when the light casts no shadows. We all trooped down to the temple square again, and the convicted felons were dragged up out of the dungeon to learn their fate. The artfully prepared stakes surrounding the square hinted strongly at what that fate was going to be, and the captives all seemed moderately 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.’