The incident provides a certain insight into our Belgarion’s character which is quite instructive. He is an extraordinarily long-suffering fellow, but he will only allow things to go so far before he takes steps. Once he decides that the time has come to act, nothing in the world can stand in his path. I must remember never to cross him.
In Algaria, Hettar and Adara have had their second child, a girl. Everyone in the whole world seems to be having children—except for Belgarion and Ce’Nedra. I wonder if they’re doing something wrong.
5383
’ZAKATH has returned to his campaign in southern Cthol Murgos. His absence gave King Urgit time to gather up the shattered remnants of his army and to reorganize them. He has no hope, of course, of meeting ’Zakath on the open plains of southeastern Cthol Murgos. Such an encounter would be disastrous for him and would mark the end of the Murgo nation. He has instead, wisely I think, retreated into the mountains of Araga and of Urga on the west coast. Murgos are splendid mountain fighters, but, as Cho-Hag found on the plains of Algaria and as we all discovered at Thull Mardu, they do not do so well in open country. ’Zakath will be forced to chase the Murgos in terrain of their choosing. Such campaigning is likely to take generations. I’m rather pleased about that idea, and I wish both sides enormous success in their efforts to exterminate each other.
Varana has approached the Vordues in a conciliatory fashion, obviously hoping to head off civil war in Tolnedra. They have coldly rejected his offer. It is quite rapidly reaching the point where he will have to move decisively or his entire nation will disintegrate before his eyes.
Belgarath passed through on his way to Riva. I have seldom seen him so angry. Belgarion’s impromptu thunderstorm last year appears to have had some far-reaching and near-disastrous effects on the continental weather-patterns, and Belgarath is furious. I do not envy my young friend the upcoming meeting with his grandfather. When provoked, the old man can peel off whole yards of skin, and he is at present mightily provoked.
Prince Kheldar, still behaving for all the world like a visiting monarch, has visited Melcene, the home of the Mallorean Bureaucracy. He has established relations with the Bureau of Commerce there. If he is not so already, I suspect that it will not be long before the little bandit is the wealthiest man in the world. It makes me positively sick to think about it.
Taiba and Relg have moved with their growing family to Maragor for reasons far too obscure for me to comprehend. The Tolnedrans, who have lurked hungrily on the borders of that haunted region, took this as a sign that the ghosts had departed. When they dashed in to gather up the gold lying all over the ground, however, they discovered that they had been grossly in error. The few who returned were all hopelessly insane. It appears that Mara still stands watch over Maragor.
5384
IT IS NOW eight years since the marriage of Belgarion and Ce’Nedra, and they remain childless. The business is rapidly becoming a matter of urgency. The Rivan King is the Keeper of the Orb, and he must have an heir. Even though Torak is gone, the forces ranged against us are too powerful for us to even consider facing them without the aid of the Orb, and only the King of Riva can wield it. I therefore summoned Brand and Cho-Hag and Porenn to Val Alorn this spring so that we might discuss the matter and decide what must be done. The immediate solution, of course, is for Belgarion to take another wife. Ce’Nedra’s barrenness is certainly reason enough for him to set her aside. He is extremely fond of her, however, and the proposal would have to be broached with some delicacy. Porenn raised all manner of objections. Although she is extraordinarily able as a ruler, she is nonetheless still a woman, and is therefore unable to see such matters without emotionality creeping in. She pointed out most eloquently that she herself had been childless for several years following her marriage to Rhodar and that it had been only with the guidance of Queen Layla that she had been able to become pregnant. She urged that before we suggest divorcement to Belgarion, we should consult with Layla and enlist her aid. She went on to suggest that should Layla fail, we should then appeal directly to Polgara, who now lives in the Vale with her husband, Durnik, and the strange, beautiful foundling they call Errand. Rhodar’s tiny little widow can be extremely forceful when she takes it into her head to be so. She stubbornly insisted that we take no steps with Belgarion until both Layla and Polgara have been unable to remedy Ce’Nedra’s childlessness. By custom, no action may be taken in concert by the Alorn rulers unless all of us agree, so Porenn had us over a barrel. She declared that she would refuse to agree until we met her conditions, and she even offered to go to Layla herself to present our request to the Sendarian Queen. Brand, of course, had no official standing at our meetings, but was present to protect Rivan interests in discussions to which Belgarion should probably not be privy. Brand has aged noticeably since the Battle of Thull Mardu. The death of his youngest son appears to have struck him to the heart. Cho-Hag, however, remains much the same—although his face is so weather-beaten that it would be well-nigh impossible to detect signs of aging upon it.
Following our meetings, Porenn traveled to Sendar, and there she placed the entire business so forcefully to Layla that Fulrach’s plump little queen put aside her morbid fear of sea travel and left immediately for Riva to consult with Queen Ce’Nedra. I hope her efforts will be successful. Peculiarly, I find that I love the little Rivan Queen.
She can be absolutely impossible, but at the same time completely adorable. Belgarion would be much poorer without her.
The Vordues have set up what they call ‘the Kingdom of Vordue’ in northern Tolnedra. Varana is going to have to do something about that.
This fall Prince Kheldar returned from Mallorea and, somewhat surprisingly, traveled directly to Boktor for discussions with Porenn rather than return to his base of operations in Gar og Nadrak. She advises me that our wily little friend traveled through the Dalasian protectorates in southwest Mallorea after his departure from Melcene and that what he saw there frightened him. I can’t for the life of me imagine anything sufficiently awful to frighten Kheldar. I think I’d better investigate.
I’ve underestimated Varana. He’s almost as foxy as Ran Borune was. He has concluded a secret agreement with King Korodullin, and the Mimbrate Knights have been unleashed upon the ‘Kingdom of Vordue’. Varana steadfastly withholds the legions, piously proclaiming that he will not commit them against their own countrymen. The Mimbrates are tearing up Vordue, and it will only be a matter of time before the Vorduvians will be forced to appeal to the Imperial Throne for protection. Varana will thus crush their rebellion without so much as dirtying his hands. Absolutely brilliant!
5385
KING DROSTA LEK THUN, the scabby monarch of Gar og Nadrak, has expropriated the holdings of Prince Kheldar and Yarblek. Kheldar, who was in the Vale of Aldur consulting with Belgarath and Polgara about what he saw in Dalasia, is positively livid with rage. I hold no particular brief for Drosta’s high-handed banditry, but I do take a certain amount of pleasure at Kheldar’s discomfort. The little thief was growing a bit too high and mighty for my taste. Driven a bit wild by Drosta’s open theft, Kheldar has forwarded a formal declaration of war to the palace at Yar Nadrak. How can a private citizen declare war on an entire kingdom? It’s an absurdity. Kheldar, however, appears to be dead serious about it, and he’s moving about in the west, recruiting an army in preparation for mounting an invasion. Drosta laughs uproariously, but if I were in his shoes, I’d be a little nervous. Even with his Nadrak holdings out of reach, Kheldar has vast sums at his disposal, and mercenaries are flocking to his banner.
The Mimbrate Knights are savaging Vordue. They try, insofar as possible, to avoid bloodshed in their encounters. Property damage, however, mounts into the millions. The Mimbrates move in, evacuate the towns and villages, and then burn them. Stone buildings are pulled down and the furnishings and other contents thrown onto huge bonfires. Homeless refugees wander about in northern Tolnedra, cursing the Vordues and sending appeals for aid to Emperor
Varana. Varana, however, is sitting tight in Tol Honeth, waiting for the Vordues to capitulate.
It appears that Layla has failed. Ce’Nedra remains childless. We must now convince Belgarion to take his Queen to the Vale. Polgara is our last hope.
’Zakath has completed his conquest of the plains regions of southern Cthol Murgos. Urgit’s army, however, has taken up strong positions in the mountains. ’Zakath is preparing for a long, difficult campaign. We can hope that it will take him the rest of his life.
5386
COUNT Reldegen, the able Governor-General of Asturia, has journeyed southward at the request of both parties to mediate the dispute between Emperor Varana and the Vordues. I’m not certain who first suggested him, but the suggestion was a stroke of genius. I’ve met Reldegen on a couple of occasions, and I’ve never met a more fair-minded and impartial man. The fact that Varana and the Vordues are seeking a mediator is ample evidence that their ‘war’ is winding down. Quite obviously, Varana has won, and Reldegen’s good offices will be somewhat in the nature of a formality—a face-saving gesture to make total surrender more palatable to the Vorduvians. Varana got what he wanted, and he sees no necessity for rubbing the Vordues’ noses in his victory.
Once again we have disturbing news out of southern Cthol Murgos. The region was apparently inhabited before the Murgos came, and the indigenous population was enslaved. Despite the eons of slavery, however, it appears that those people have managed to keep their racial identity intact. Because of their peculiar racial notions, Murgos scrupulously avoid contact with their slaves, hence they are almost totally unaware of what is really going on in their slave-pens. The Malloreans, however, are more curious. The Melcenes in particular seem to automatically begin to search through any new population they encounter in the search for what they call ‘talent’. Drasnian intelligence agents, operating at great risk in ’Zakath’s army, have begun to send back reports of a highly disturbing nature. The Malloreans are aghast at what they have discovered. They have found a sort of religion among the slaves in southern Cthol Murgos. In itself this would not be particularly significant, but what has so alarmed the Malloreans is that this subterranean religion is absolutely identical to the one which exists in the Dalasian protectorates of southwestern Mallorea. This despite the fact that the two regions have been totally separated from each other since the cracking of the world almost 5400 years ago. What seems to upset the Malloreans the most is the fact that a document referred to as ‘The Mallorean Gospels’ is circulated among the slaves. Mallorean Grolims have been attempting for centuries to destroy all existing copies in Dalasia, and now the self-same work appears in southern Cthol Murgos—with no possible explanation for its presence. I am afire with curiosity. I must have a copy of these ‘Mallorean Gospels’. I will not rest easy until I have read them.
This spring Belgarion issued a general invitation to the monarchs of the entire world to attend a conference in the city of Sendar. To take the note of peremptoriness from the invitation, he urged those monarchs unable to attend to send envoys. The avowed purpose of this conference is ‘to examine world tensions and to seek peaceful solutions to frictions between nations.’ This is an ambitious proposal, but one which derives more from idealism than from any sense of how the world really operates. Our Belgarion still has a great deal of growing to do, I fear. I will attend his conference, however, (scheduled for mid-autumn). I look forward to meeting rulers of nations and principalities lying on the far side of the world.
The conference,83 rather naturally, produced almost no concrete results. Belgarion, however, seems not particularly disappointed. The fact that we did talk to each other seems to be enough to satisfy him. Many of the world’s rulers were, of course, unable to attend. Urgit was not present, nor was ’Zakath. Surprisingly, however, both sent envoys. The King of Darshiva is in his eighties, and his envoy expressed the old man’s regret at being unable to attend. The King of Jenno, one of the seven kingdoms of Karanda, is under house arrest for some misfeasance of office. (How can you arrest a king?!!) A number of the visitors at the court of Fulrach, who acted as official host, had no royal title but were of sufficient stature that no one questioned their right to be present. Belgarath attended, as did Polgara, Durnik and the foundling, Errand. From Mal Yaska, the holy city of the Mallorean Grolims, came Urvon, the third disciple of Torak. The meeting between Urvon and Belgarath was chilling. I don’t believe they’ve ever met, but they have known of each other for eons. I’m certain that Urvon had no love for Ctuchik and Zedar, his fellow disciples, but the fact that Belgarath destroyed them both in little more than a single year must give Torak’s sole remaining disciple certain qualms. Moreover, I’m certain that Urvon came into the presence of Belgarion with some highly charged emotions. Belgarion did, after all, kill Urvon’s God. Accompanying Urvon was a strange veiled and hooded woman. I do not know in what capacity she was present. I rather strongly doubt that she was Urvon’s mistress. She seems to have been along as an advisor of some sort. None of us ever spoke to her or saw her face. The single look which passed between her and Polgara, however, froze my blood.
Another peculiar visitor—also a woman— came with her eyes bound and escorted and guided by a towering and awesomely muscled mute. When we politely questioned her presence, she declared in a firm, clear voice, ‘I am here as a representative of my people, and I am here to observe.’ When we pressed her concerning exactly who her people were, she replied in that infuriating way some women have, ‘I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you wouldn’t understand.’ I witnessed also a peculiar little ceremony involving the three women. Urvon’s companion, her face still heavily veiled, approached the blind-folded woman and acknowledged her with the briefest of nods. Then Polgara also approached, and she too nodded. Astonishingly, the totally blind-folded woman—I know she could not see—responded to each nod. There was no trace of cordiality in those greetings, however. They were not unlike the curt nods exchanged by men about to engage in a duel. I’m not certain what’s going on, but I’m most definitely certain that I don’t want to be in the way when whatever it is happens.
One good thing that did come of the conference is that Belgarion managed to make peace between Drosta and Kheldar. The peace was not to the liking of either party, but in the end, both of them bowed to the Rivan King’s will. Drosta will be allowed to keep the expropriated holdings, but he will be obliged to pay Kheldar and Yarblek a certain royalty percentage, such amounts to be determined by a Rivan accountant. Thus, Drosta has to operate his stolen holdings at his own expense and pay a royalty; Kheldar and Yarblek have no operational expenses, but their profits are substantially reduced. It’s an interesting arrangement, but it will only succeed for as long as Belgarion stands over all parties with a club.
5387
THE die is finally cast. Brand approached Belgarion with a near-ultimatum, pointing out that producing an heir is the King’s foremost responsibility. Belgarion agreed to consult with Polgara about the problem of Ce’Nedra’s childlessness. Brand then regretfully stated, ‘Should Polgara’s aid fail, it will be necessary for you to put aside your barren Tolnedran queen. We will then conduct a search to find a fertile Alorn girl for you to marry.’ In some unknown way, Ce’Nedra overheard this statement. The scene which followed, I’m told, was absolutely dreadful.
It is difficult to foretell what the future will bring. I had thought that with the death of Torak, the world might return to that golden age which had existed before the God of Angarak took the Orb and used it to crack the world. The peace of that simple former age will never return, I’m afraid. The cracking of the world seems to have been more than just a physical event. The hearts of men were also divided, and we will never again return to our previous innocence. In some ways that’s a shame, but I’m not entirely sure I’d care for a bovinely placid world. The world we have now is full of dangers, but at least it is not dull.
Anheg
ANHEG I,
KING OF CHEREK*
* The amount of labor involved in creating a world tends to make most fantasists a little reluctant about manufacturing another one. An accidental conversation between my agent and another publisher, however, resulted in Elenium/Tamuli, and I discovered that building the second world isn’t nearly as difficult as that first one was. I built the world of Elenium in six weeks. Experience does pay off, I guess. Alternating between two entirely different worlds as we did when Malloreon and Elenium were coming in tandem, however, is an open invitation to schizophrenia. It splits your head right down the middle. I found myself unconsciously reaching for Sparhawk when I was in the middle of a Garion book. Maybe someday we’ll manufacture a third world just to find out if we still know how to do it. We’ll see.
AFTERWARD
Wasn’t that educational? My training (regardless of what it might say on my academic degrees) was in the field of literary criticism, a field which has strayed from its original purpose, I think. The great critics of the eighteenth century believed that a close examination of the classics would improve current writing, and that the purpose of criticism was to produce ‘how to write good stuff’ essays. Criticism should be distinguished from book reviews. ‘My favorite writer is better than your favorite writer’ is just a trifle juvenile, and ‘I could write a better book than this if I really wanted to’ is even worse.
The Rivan Codex Page 37