Polgara the Sorceress (25 page)

They’d not been aware of the fact that they’d been napping, of course, so it appeared to them that I’d simply vanished. I learned somewhat later that the rude young noble had entered a monastery not long after our encounter, and that his men had all deserted and were nowhere to be found. At least one source of bad manners had been dried up in the Duchy of Wacune.

The city of Vo Wacune reared its loveliness out of the surrounding forest, and it absolutely took my breath away. I’ve never seen a city so beautiful. Vo Astur was almost as grey as Val Alorn, and Vo Mimbre is yellow. The Mimbrates call it ‘golden’, but that doesn’t hide the fact that it’s just plain old yellow. Vo Wacune was sheathed all in marble, even as Tol Honeth is. Tol Honeth, however, strives for grandeur, while Vo Wacune tried for – and achieved – beauty. Its slender towers soared white and gleaming toward a sky that smiled benevolently down on the most beautiful city in the world.

I paused in the forest to change clothes before I followed the gently winding road leading to the gates. I put on the blue velvet gown and cape I’d worn on ceremonial occasions on the Isle of the Winds, and as an after-thought I added a silver circlet – just to make the point that the term ‘wench’ wasn’t really appropriate.

The guards at the city gates were civil, and I entered Vo Wacune with father trailing along behind me trying to look inconspicuous.

My years on the Isle had taught me how to assume a commanding presence, and I was soon escorted to a large hall where the duke sat in semi-regal splendor. ‘Your Grace,’ I greeted him with a curtsey, ‘it is imperative that we speak privately. I must disclose my mind unto 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 slammed 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. Just how stringent are the rules of evidence here in Vo Wacune?’

‘Rules of evidence?’

‘How far will you have to go to prove-that the Tolnedran’s a knave?’

He laughed. ‘Thou art unschooled in Arendish customs, I see,’ he said. ‘We are Arends, Polgara. Evidence and proof are quite beyond our capabilities. I rule here by decree. If
I
say that a man’s a villain, then he’s a villain, and he takes up immediate residence in my dungeon. Our nature is such that we must keep things simple.’

‘How terribly convenient. I need further information, however. Have him picked dp, if you would, please. There are some questions I’d like to ask him before he takes up residence down in the cellar. I want to know just exactly how wide-spread this plot is before I go on to Vo Astur and Vo Mimbre.’

‘Wilt thou require the services of a professional interrogator?’

‘A torturer, you mean? No, Kathandrion. There are other ways to get the truth out of people. Once I know the full extent of Ctuchik’s scheme, I should be able to spoke his wheel.’

‘Hast thou ever met this miscreant Ctuchik?’

‘Not yet, your Grace,’ I said bleakly. ‘I expect it’s coming, though, and I’m rather looking forward to it. Shall we go now?’

I paused momentarily at the door to look critically at the hound sprawled just outside in the hallway. ‘All right, father,’ I said. ‘You can go home now. I can manage here quite well without you.’

He even managed to look a little guilty.

The more I came to know the Arendish people, the more I appreciated Kathandrion. Whole volumes have been devoted to a misconception about the nature of Arends. The ongoing disaster men call Arendia is not so much the result of congenital stupidity as it is a combination of blind impulsiveness, an irresistible urge toward high drama, and an inability to back away from a course of action once it’s been embarked upon. At least Kathandrion was willing to listen for a moment before he plunged into something. His first impulse in this case, naturally, was to have Ctuchik’s underling seized and dragged in chains through the streets of Vo Wacune – probably at high noon. He was right on the verge of issuing orders to that effect as we proceeded down the corridor to his throne room.

‘Kathandrion,’ I suggested gently, ‘we’re dealing with a conspiracy here. Do we really want to alert all the other conspirators with a public display?’

He looked quickly at me. ‘Not too bright an idea, right?’ he suggested.

‘I’ve heard better.’

‘One of these days I’ll have to learn to think my way through a notion before I start issuing commands,’ he said.

‘I would, if I were you.’

‘I’ll work on it. How would
you
approach this matter?’

‘Lie a little bit. Send a note to Haldon asking him to stop by at his convenience for a bit of private conversation.’

‘What if he doesn’t find it convenient until sometime next week?’

‘He’ll be here almost immediately, Kathandrion. Trust me. I’ve done this sort of thing before. He’ll take that “at your convenience” to mean just as soon as he gets his clothes on. There are many ways to use power, Kathand
rion. A light touch is far better than a sledge-hammer.’

‘What a novel thing to suggest. This is Arendia, Polgara. Commands here must be delivered in short, easy-to-understand language, preferably in words of one syllable or less.’

I found myself growing fonder of Duke Kathandrion by the moment. The invitation he dictated to a scribe when we returned to the throne room was artfully innocuous, and, as I’d predicted, Haldon arrived within the hour.

Evening was settling over the fairy-tale city of Vo Wacune as Kathandrion escorted our guest to a room conveniently located near the head of the stairs leading down to the dungeon. There was but a single lamp in the room, and I sat in a chair with a high back and facing the window. Thus, I was to all intents and purposes invisible.

I carefully sent out my thought as the two of them entered, and the color I encountered didn’t have that characteristic red overtone that would have identified the merchant as Tolnedran, but was dull black instead. The man known as Haldon was a Murgo. I could see his reflection in the glass of the window, and his features had none of the characteristics of the Angarak race. That explained quite a bit.

‘It was good of thee to come by on such short notice, worthy Haldon,’ Kathandrion was saying.

‘I am ever at your Grace’s call,’ the green-mantled fellow replied, bowing.

‘Prithee, sit, my friend. We are alone, so there is no need for ceremony.’ Kathandrion paused artfully. ‘It hath recently been proposed to me that some commercial advantage might accrue to the Duchy of Wacune were I to command some port facilities constructed on the southern bank of the Camaar River within the boundaries of my realm, and it seemed me that thou wert best qualified to evaluate the notion. Would such facilities indeed enhance trade between Wacune and the empire?’

‘Indeed they would, your Grace!’ the imitation Tolnedran replied enthusiastically. ‘The emperor himself has frequently expressed interest in just such a project.’

‘Splendid!’ Kathandrion said. ‘Capital! In view of our
forthcoming alliance, might I prevail upon thee to suggest to thine emperor a sharing of the cost of construction of those facilities?’

‘I’m certain that the emperor would look most favorably upon such a proposal.’

A Tolnedran of any rank willing to spend money? That idea in itself would have been enough to expose the so-called Haldon as a fraud.

I’d suggested to the duke that he engage our suspect in some frivolous discussion of a spurious topic ‘to put him off his guard’. In reality, I needed but a moment or two to touch Haldon’s mind to confirm his racial background. The ‘port facility’ myth was of Kathandrion’s own devising, and it confirmed my earlier evaluation of his intelligence.

I let them ramble on for a while, and then I rose from my chair and stepped into the lamplight. ‘I hate to interrupt such pleasant discourse, gentlemen,’ I told them, ‘but we have far to go before dawn, so perhaps we’d better move right along.’ Neither Arends nor Murgos are accustomed to having women intrude in state matters, so I think my crisp interruption startled them both.

The Murgo looked sharply at me, and his face went deathly pale.
‘You!’
he gasped.

That was the first time my presence had ever gotten
that
reaction.

I was looking at him curiously. ‘How
ever
did you manage to alter your features, Haldon?’ I asked him. ‘You don’t look the least bit like an Angarak. Did Ctuchik do that to you? It must have been extremely painful.’

His eyes went wary. ‘I’m sorry, madame,’ he said, recovering quickly. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.’

‘Are we actually going to play that tiresome game all the way out to its inevitable conclusion?’ I asked him. ‘How tedious.’ Even as I spoke, I gently probed into the darkest corners of the imitation Tolnedran’s mind, and I was somewhat surprised to discover that the thing he feared most in all the world was my father! I hadn’t expected that, but I realized that it might make the rest of this business quite a bit easier than I’d expected.

‘It seemeth to me that much is transpiring here that I do not understand,’ Kathandrion admitted, looking baffled.

‘It’s really quite simple, your Grace,’ I told him. ‘This gentleman who’s been calling himself “Haldon” is actually a Murgo, whose real name is quite probably unpronounceable. Does that help to clarify things?’

‘But he doth not
look
like a Murgo, my Lady.’

‘Yes, I noticed that. We’ll have to ask him how he managed it.’

‘She lies!’ our Murgo snarled.

‘That is most unlikely,’ Kathandrion replied in a chill tone. Then he looked at me. ‘It doth appear that he knows of thee, my Lady.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘Evidently Ctuchik warned him about me.’ I looked sternly at our guest. ‘Now we come to the more unpleasant part of the evening, I’m afraid,’ I said with feigned regret. ‘Would you prefer to tell us everything you know about your master’s scheme right here and now? Or am I going to have to persuade you? You
are
going to tell me what I want to know – eventually. We can do it either way; it’s up to you.’

His eyes went flat and were suddenly filled with hatred. ‘Do your worst, witch-woman,’ he said defiantly. ‘I am a Dagashi, and I can withstand any torment you can devise.’

‘I’m so happy that you’ve dropped that tiresome masquerade,’ I said. ‘Oh, by the way, let me relieve you of that knife you’ve got hidden down the back of your mantle. We’d be
so
disappointed if you decided to murder yourself – not to mention the terrible mess it’d make on the carpet.’ I translocated the triangular dagger he’d had concealed under his clothes into my own hands and looked at it curiously. ‘What a peculiar implement,’ I noted frowning slightly. ‘Ah, I see. It’s a throwing knife. Very efficient-looking. Shall we press on, then?’ I stared intently into his eyes as I gathered in my Will. I’ll admit that I had a certain advantage in this situation. I was going to show him the image of something he was afraid of, but if it didn’t work, the real thing wasn’t too far away. I made a small gesture with my right hand as I released my Will.

Yes, I know. Father’s been chiding me about those gestures for thirty or so centuries now, and I’ve been ignoring him for just as long. It’s a question of style, actually, and since I’m the one who’s doing it, I’ll do it any way I like.

So there.

Those of you who know my father know that above all else, he’s a performer. This is not to say that he can’t turn mountains inside out if he chooses to, but he always does things with a certain panache, a grand and flamboyant style that’s
very
impressive. His face is really no more than a tool, and his expressions speak whole volumes. Believe me, I’ve seen all of those expressions at close range over the centuries, and so the illusion I created for the Murgo’s entertainment was
very
lifelike. Initially, father’s face was stern, accusatory, and the Murgo flinched back from it, his face going pale and his eyes bulging from their sockets.

Then father frowned, and the Murgo gave vent to a pathetic little squeal and tried to cover his head with his arms.

Then my father’s illusory face twisted into an expression which I’d seen him practicing in a mirror when he thought I wasn’t watching. His eyes narrowed with his lower eyelids sliding upward, and he tilted his head slightly back so that it almost appeared that he was glaring over the top of those ominous lids. To be honest about it, the expression made him look like a madman right on the verge of tearing someone apart with his teeth.

Then I hardened the image, giving it that momentary flicker of decision that comes just prior to the releasing of the Will.

The Murgo screamed and tried to scramble from his chair in sheer panic.
‘No!’
he wailed.
‘Don’t!’

I froze him in place while he howled and whimpered in absolute terror.
‘Please!’
he shrieked. ‘Please make it go away, Polgara! I’ll do anything! Anything! Just make it go away!’

There are all sorts of wild stories which have been circulated about me over the years, but I don’t think Kathandrion had actually believed them before. He did now, though,
and he drew himself back, looking just a little bit afraid.

‘Why don’t you begin by telling me your name, Murgo?’ I suggested, ‘and then you can tell me what a Dagashi is. We’ll go on from there. Always keep in mind the fact that I can bring my father back any time you decide not to cooperate.’

‘I’m known as Krachack,’ the Murgo replied in a trembling voice, ‘and the Dagashi are members of a secret order in Cthol Murgos. We gather information and eliminate people who are inconvenient for those who employ us.’

‘Spies and hired assassins?’

‘If you choose to call us so.’

‘How is it that you don’t have Murgo features?’

‘Breeding,’ he replied. ‘Our mothers and grandmothers are slave-women from other races. They’re killed after we’re born. I’m about one quarter Murgo.’

‘Peculiar,’ I noted, ‘particularly in view of Ctuchik’s obsession with racial purity. Let’s set that aside for now, though. Exactly what’s the purpose of your mission here in Arendia?’

‘I’ve been instructed to persuade Duke Kathandrion that Ran Vordue will come to his aid when he attacks Vo Astur. With the help of the legions, Kathandrion would be able to obliterate Asturia. Then I’m to hint that the combined force of Wacite Arends and Tolnedran legions would be able to turn south and do the same thing to Mimbre.’

‘That’s absurd,’ I told him. ‘What’s Ran Vordue supposed to get out of this?’

‘Southern Mimbre,’ Krachack replied with a shrug, ‘the part where most of the cities are.’

I looked at Kathandrion. ‘Would it have worked?’ I asked bluntly. ‘Would this offer have tempted you?’

My friend looked slightly guilty. ‘I do fear me that it might well have, Polgara. In my mind’s eye, I would have become king of most of Arendia, and the civil wars that tear at our beloved homeland would have come to an end.’

‘I doubt it,’ I told him. ‘A peace founded on such conniving could not have lasted.’ I turned back to Krachack. ‘I assume that similar schemes are afoot in Vo Astur and Vo Mimbre?’ I suggested.

Krachack nodded. ‘There are variations, of course – all depending on the strategic positions of the three duchies. I’m told that there are some real Tolnedrans at Vo Mimbre who’ve been bribed to further our plan, but that’s none of my concern. The end result of our maneuvering is to be the same. The three dukes will attack each other, each expecting aid from the legions. Then, when that aid doesn’t materialize, the dukes will feel that they’ve been betrayed. Other Dagashi, posing as Arendish patriots, will urge each one of the dukes to ally himself with the other two and to march on the empire. That’s Ctuchik’s goal, an ongoing war between Tolnedra and Arendia.’

‘Tolnedra would crush us!’ Kathandrion exclaimed.

Krachack shrugged. ‘So? Ctuchik doesn’t care about Arendia, and he doesn’t really care about what happens to her. If Tolnedra annexes her, though, the Alorns will be dragged into it, and that’s what Ctuchik
really
wants – a war between Tolnedra and Aloria. Once that starts, Ctuchik can go to Ashaba and hand Torak a divided west on a platter. Ctuchik will be Torak’s most favored disciple, standing above Zedar and Urvon, and the Malloreans will come across the Sea of the East. All of Angarak will fall on the divided kingdoms of the west and annihilate them. Torak will become the God of all humanity.’

I’m sure that Lelldorin will recognize the general pattern of the scheme. A Murgo named Nachak tried something very similar in Arendia a few years back. Ctuchik
did
tend to repeat himself.

Kathandrion and I questioned Krachack the Murgo until almost dawn, and then we had him quietly taken down to the lowest level of the dungeon. The Wacite Duke was more than a little startled by the complexity of Ctuchik’s plot. ‘It astounds me that any man can be so devious, Polgara,’ he admitted. ‘Are all Murgo minds thus?’

‘I rather doubt it, my friend,’ I replied. ‘Ctuchik studied at the feet of Torak himself, and then he had centuries to practice his art on his fellow-disciples, Urvon and Zedar. There’s no love lost between those three, and Torak prefers
it that way. The Dragon God brings out and exploits the worst in human nature.’ I considered the situation. ‘I think I’d better go on to Vo Astur directly,’ I mused. ‘I’m fairly sure that events there are moving to a head as rapidly as they are here – and in Vo Mimbre as well. These assorted plots almost have to be coordinated to reach their culmination at roughly the same time, and what’s been happening here is rapidly coming to a climax.’