The Malloreon: Book 01 - Guardians of the West

by David Eddings

  ‘That’s always helpful.’

  ‘I’d like to know a bit more before I start gloating, though.’

  It was midafternoon before the last fanatic resistance collapsed in the southeastern quarter of Rheon and the demoralized prisoners were herded through the streets of the burning town to join the others in the town square.

  Garion and General Brendig stood on the second floor balcony of the house where they had taken Harakan, talking quietly with the small, black-gowned Queen of Drasnia. ‘What will you do with them now, your Majesty?’ General Brendig asked her, looking down at the frightened prisoners in the square.

  ‘I’m going to tell them the truth and let them go, Brendig.’

  ‘Let them go?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I afraid I don’t quite follow you.’

  ‘They’re going to be just a little upset when I tell them that they’ve been duped into betraying Aloria by a Mallorean Grolim.’

  ‘I don’t think they’ll believe you.’

  ‘Enough of them will,’ she replied placidly, adjusting the collar of her black dress. ‘I’ll manage to convince at least some of them of the truth, and they’ll spread the word. Once it becomes general knowledge that the cult fell under the domination of this Grolim Harakan, it’s going to be more difficult for them to gain new converts, don’t you think?’

  Brendig considered that. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ he admitted. ‘But will you punish the ones who won’t listen?’

  ‘That would be tyranny, General, and one should always try to avoid the appearance of tyranny—particularly when it’s unncessary. Once word of this gets around, I think that anyone who starts babbling about the divine mission of Aloria to subjugate the southern kingdoms is going to be greeted with a barrage of stones.’

  ‘All right, then, what are you going to do about General Haldar?’ he asked seriously. ‘You’re not just going to let him go, too, are you?’

  ‘Haldar’s quite another matter,’ she replied. ‘He’s a traitor, and that sort of thing ought to be discouraged.’

  ‘When he finds out what happened here, he’ll probably try to run.’

  ‘Appearances can be deceiving, General Brendig,’ she told him with a chill smile ‘I may look like a helpless woman, but I have a very long arm. Haldar can’t run far enough or fast enough to escape me. And when my people catch him, he’ll be brought back to Boktor in chains to stand trial. I think the outcome of that trial will be fairly predictable.’

  ‘Would you excuse me?’ Garion asked politely. ‘I need to go talk with my grandfather.’

  ‘Of course, Garion,’ Queen Porenn said with a warm little smile.

  He went back downstairs and found Silk and Javelin still ransacking the chests and cabinets in the green-carpeted room. ‘Are you finding anything useful?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, quite a bit, actually,’ Javelin replied. ‘I expect that by the time we’re finished, we’ll have the name of every cult member in Aloria.’

  ‘It just proves something I’ve always said,’ Silk noted as he continued to read. ‘A man should never put anything down in writing.’

  ‘Have either of you any idea where I can find Belgarath?’

  ‘You might try the kitchens at the back of the house,’ Silk replied. ‘He said something about being hungry. I think Beldin went with him.’

  The kitchen in Harakan’s house had escaped the general ransacking by Yarblek’s men, who appeared to be more interested in loot than food, and the two old sorcerers sat comfortably at a table near a low, arched window picking at the remains of a roasted chicken. ‘Ah, Garion, my boy,’ Belgarath said expansively. ‘Come in and join us.’

  ‘Do you suppose there’s anything to drink around here?’ Beldin asked, wiping his fingers on the front of his tunic.

  ‘There should be,’ Belgarath replied. ‘It’s a kitchen, after all. Why don’t you look in that pantry?’

  Beldin rose and crossed the kitchen floor toward the pantry.

  Garion bent slightly to look out the low window at the houses burning one street over. ‘It’s starting to snow again,’ he observed.

  Belgarath grunted. ‘I think we’ll want to get out of here as quickly as we can,’ he said. ‘I don’t really want to spend the winter here.’

  ‘Ah, ha!’ Beldin said from the pantry. He emerged with a triumphant grin carrying a small wooden cask.

  ‘You’d better taste it first,’ Belgarath told him. ‘It might be vinegar.’

  Beldin set the cask on the floor and bashed in its top with his fist. Then he licked his fingers and smacked his lips. ‘No,’ he said, ‘it’s definitely not vinegar.’ He rummaged through a nearby cupboard and produced three earthenware cups.

  ‘Well, brother,’ Belgarath said, ‘what are your plans?’

  Beldin dipped into the cask with one of the cups. ‘I think I’ll see if I can track down Harakan. I’d like to finish him off before I go back to Mallorea. He’s not the kind you want lurking in alleys behind you as you go by.’

  ‘You’re going to Mallorea, then?’ Belgarath tore a wing off the chicken lying on the table.

  ‘That’s probably the only place where we can get any solid information about this Zandramas.’ Beldin belched.

  ‘Javelin says that he thinks it’s a Darshivan name,’ Garion told him.

  Beldin grunted. ‘That could help a little. This time I’ll start there. I couldn’t get anything at all at Mal Zeth, and those half-wits in Karanda fell over in a dead faint every time I mentioned the name.’

  ‘Did you try Mal Yaska?’ Belgarath asked him.

  ‘Hardly. Urvon’s got my description posted on every wall in that place. For some reason, he’s afraid that someday I might show up and yank out several yards of his guts.’

  ‘I wonder why.’

  ‘I told him so, that’s why.’

  ‘You’ll be in Darshiva, then?’

  ‘For the time being—at least, I will after I’ve got Harakan safely under the ground. If I find out anything about Zandramas, I’ll get word to you.’

  ‘Keep your eyes open for clear copies of the Mallorean Gospels and the Ashabine Oracles, too,’ Belgarath told him. ‘According to the Codex, I’m supposed to find clues in them.’

  ‘And what are you going to do?’

  ‘I think we’ll go on down to Nyissa and see if the Orb can pick up the trail of my great-grandson.’

  ‘The fact that some Rivan shepherd saw a Nyissan ship is a pretty slender lead, Belgarath.’

  ‘I know, but at the moment it’s the only one we’ve got.’

  Garion absently pulled a few fragments off the picked-over chicken and put them in his mouth. He suddenly realized that he was ravenously hungry.

  ‘Are you going to take Polgara with you?’ Beldin asked.

  ‘I don’t think so. Garion and I are likely to be out of touch, and we’ll need somebody here in the north to keep an eye on things. The Alorns are feeling muscular at the moment and they’re going to need a firm hand to keep them out of mischief.’

  ‘That’s a normal condition for Alorns. You realize that Polgara’s not going to be happy when you tell her she has to stay behind, don’t you?’

  ‘I know,’ Belgarath replied with a gloomy look. ‘Maybe I’ll just leave her a note. That worked pretty well last time.’

  ‘Just try to make sure she’s not in the vicinity of anything breakable when she gets the note.’ Beldin laughed. ‘Like large cities and mountain ranges. I heard what happened when she got the last note you left.’

  The door opened, and Barak stuck his head into the kitchen. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘There you are. There are a couple of people out here who want to see you. Mandorallen found them on the outskirts of town—a very strange pair.’

  ‘How do you mean strange?’ Garion asked.

  ‘The man’s as big as a house. He’s got arms like tree trunks, but he can’t talk. The girl’s pretty enough, but she’d blind.’

  Belgarath
and Beldin exchanged a quick look. ‘How do you know she’s blind?’ Belgarath asked.

  ‘She’s got a cloth tied across her eyes.’ Barak shrugged. ‘I just assumed that was what it meant.’

  ‘I guess we’d better go talk to her,’ Beldin said, rising from his seat. ‘A seeress wouldn’t be in this part of the world unless it was pretty important.’

  ‘A seeress?’ Garion asked.

  ‘One of those people from Kell,’ Belgarath explained. ‘They’re always blindfolded, and their guides are always mutes. Let’s go see what she has to say.’

  When they entered the large main room, they found the others curiously eyeing the two strangers. The blindfolded seeress was a slight girl in a white robe. She had dark blond hair, and a serene smile touched her lips. She stood quietly in the center of the room, patiently waiting. Beside her stood one of the largest men Garion had ever seen. He wore a kind of sleeveless kirtle of coarse, undyed cloth belted at the waist, and he carried no weapon except for a stout, polished staff. He towered above even Hettar, and his bare arms were awesomely muscled. In a curious way, he seemed almost to hover over his slender mistress, his eyes watchful and protective.

  ‘Has she said who she is?’ Belgarath quietly asked Polgara as they joined the others.

  ‘No,’ she replied. ‘All that she says is that she has to speak with you and Garion.’

  ‘Her name is Cyradis,’ Errand said from nearby.

  ‘Do you know her?’ Garion asked him.

  ‘We met once—in the Vale. She wanted to find out something about me, so she came there, and we talked.’

  ‘What did she want to find out?’

  ‘She didn’t say.’

  ‘Didn’t you ask her?’

  ‘I think that if she’d wanted me to know, she’d have told me.’

  ‘I would speak with thee, Ancient Belgarath,’ the seeress said then in a light, clear voice, ‘and with thee, also, Belgarion.’

  They drew closer.

  ‘I am permitted a short time here to tell thee certain truths. First, know that your tasks are not yet completed. Necessity doth command yet one more meeting between the Child of Light and the Child of Dark; and mark me well—this meeting shall be the last, for it is during this meeting that the final choice between the Light and the Dark shall be made.’

  ‘And where will this meeting take place, Cyradis?’ Belgarath asked her, his face intent.

  ‘In the presence of the Sardion—in the place which is no more.’

  ‘And where is that?’

  ‘The path to that dread place lies in the mysteries, Ancient One. Thou must seek it there.’ She turned her face toward Garion, half-reaching out to him with one slender hand. ‘Thy heart is sore, Belgarion,’ she said with a great sympathy in her voice, ‘for Zandramas, the Child of Dark, hath reft away thy son and even now doth flee with him toward the Sardion. It lies upon thee to bar the path of Zandramas to that stone—for the stars and the voices of the earth proclaim that the power of the Dark doth reside in the Sardion, even as the power of the Light doth reside in the Orb of Aldur. Should Zandramas reach the Dark Stone with the babe, the Dark shall triumph, and its triumph shall be eternal.’

  ‘Is my baby all right?’ Ce’Nedra demanded, her face pale and a dreadful fear in her eyes.

  ‘Thy child is safe and well, Ce’Nedra,’ Cyradis told her. ‘Zandramas will protect him from all harm—not out of love, but out of Necessity.’ The seeress’ face grew still. ‘Thou must steel thy heart, however,’ she continued, ‘for should there be no other way to prevent Zandramas from reaching the Sardion with thine infant son, it falls to thee—or to thy husband—to slay the child.’

  ‘Slay?’ Ce’Nedra exclaimed. ‘Never!’

  ‘Then the Dark shall prevail,’ Cyradis said simply. She turned back to Garion. ‘My time grows short,’ she said to him. ‘Heed what I say. Thy choice of companions to aid thee in this task of thine must be guided by Necessity and not thine own preference. Shouldst thou choose awry, then shalt thou fail thy task, and Zandramas will defeat thee. Thy son shall be lost to thee forever, and the world as thou knowest it shall be no more.’

  Garion’s face was bleak. ‘Go ahead,’ he told her shortly. ‘Say the rest of what you have to say.’ Her suggestion that either he or Ce’Nedra could ever under any circumstances kill their own child had filled him with a sudden anger.

  ‘Thou wilt leave this place in the company of Ancient Belgarath and his most revered daughter. Thou must also take with thee the Bearer of the Orb and thy wife.’

  ‘Absurd!’ he burst out. ‘I’m not going to expose Ce’Nedra—or Errand—to that kind of danger.’

  ‘Then thou wilt surely fail.’

  He looked at her helplessly.

  ‘Thou must have with thee as well the Guide and the Man with Two Lives—and one other whom I will reveal to thee. Thou wilt be joined at some later times by others —the Huntress, the Man Who Is No Man, the Empty One, and by the Woman Who Watches.’

  ‘That’s fairly typical seer gibberish,’ Beldin muttered sourly.

  ‘The words are not mine, gentle Beldin,’ she told him. ‘These are the names as they are written in the stars—and in the prophecies. The incidental and worldly names which were given them at the time of their births are of no moment in the timeless realm of the two Necessities which contend with each other at the center of all that is or ever will be. Each of these companions hath a certain task, and all tasks must be completed ’ere the meeting which is to come, else the Prophecy which hath guided thy steps since time began will fail.’

  ‘And what is my task, Cyradis?’ Polgara asked her coolly.

  ‘It is as it hath ever been, Holy Polgara. Thou must guide, and nurture, and protect, for thou art the mother—even as Ancient Belgarath is the father.’ The faintest of smiles touched the blindfolded girl’s lips. ‘Others will aid thee in thy quest from time to time, Belgarion,’ she continued, ‘but those I have named must be with thee at that final meeting.’

  ‘What about us?’ Barak demanded, ‘Hettar and Mandorallen and Lelldorin and me?’

  ‘The tasks of each of you are complete, most Dreadful Bear, and the responsibility for them hath descended to your sons. Shouldst thou or the Bowman or the Horse Lord or the Knight Protector seek to join with Belgarion in this quest, thy presence will cause him to fail.’

  ‘Ridiculous!’ the big man spluttered. ‘I’m certainly not staying behind.’

  ‘That choice is not thine to make.’ She turned back to Garion, laying her hand on the massive arm of her mute protector. ‘This is Toth,’ she said, slumping as if a great weariness were about to overcome her. ‘He hath guided my faltering steps since the day that other sight came upon me and I bound up mine eyes that I might better see. Though it doth rend my soul, he and I must now part for a little while. I have instructed him to aid thee in thy search. In the stars he is called the Silent Man, and it is his destiny to be one of thy companions.’ She began to tremble as if in exhaustion. ‘One last word for thee, Belgarion,’ she said in a quavering voice. ‘Thy quest will be fraught with great peril, and one of thy companions shall lose his life in the course of it. Prepare thine heart therefore, for when this occurs, thou must not falter, but must press on to the completion of the task which hath been laid upon thee.’

  ‘Who?’ he said quickly. ‘Which one of them is going to die?’

  ‘That hath not been revealed to me,’ she said. And then with an obvious effort, she straightened. ‘Remember me,’ she said, ‘for we shall meet anon.’ With that she vanished.

  ‘Where did she go?’ General Brendig exclaimed.

  ‘She was never really here,’ Errand replied.

  ‘It was a projection, Brendig,’ Belgarath said. ‘But the man—Toth—is solid. Now how did they work that? Do you know, Errand?’

  Errand shrugged. ‘I can’t tell, Belgarath. But it took the combined power of all the Seers at Kell.’

  ‘What absolute nonsense!’ Barak burst
out angrily, pounding one huge fist on the table. ‘Nothing in this world could make me stay behind!’ Mandorallen, Hettar, and Lelldorin vehemently nodded their agreement.

  Garion looked at Polgara. ‘Could she possibly have been lying?’ he asked.

  ‘Cryadis? No. A seeress isn’t capable of lying. She may have concealed a few things, but she could not have lied. What she told us was what she saw in the stars.’

  ‘How can she see the stars with that blindfold over her eyes?’ Lelldorin objected.

  Polgara spread her hands. ‘I don’t know. The seers perceive things in ways we don’t entirely understand.’

  ‘Maybe she read them wrong,’ Hettar suggested.

  ‘The Seers at Kell are usually right,’ Beldin growled, ‘so I wouldn’t necessarily want to bet my life on that.’

  ‘That brings us right to the point,’ Garion said. ‘I’m going to have to go alone.’

  ‘Alone?’ Ce’Nedra gasped.

  ‘You heard what she said. Somebody who goes with me is going to get killed.’

  ‘That hath ever been a possibility, Garion,’ Mandorallen said soberly.

  ‘But never a certainty.’

  ‘I won’t let you go by yourself,’ Barak declared.

  Garion felt a peculiar wrench, almost as if he had been rudely pushed aside. He was powerless as a voice which was not his came from his lips. ‘Will you people stop all this babbling?’ it demanded. ‘You’ve been given your instructions. Now follow them.’

  They all stared at Garion in amazement. He spread his hands helplessly, trying to let them know that he had no control over the words coming from his mouth.

  Belgarath blinked. ‘This must be important, if it can make you take a hand directly,’ he said to the awareness that had suddenly usurped Garion’s voice.

  ‘You don’t have time to sit around debating the issue, Belgarath. You have a very long way to go and only so much time.’

  ‘Then what Cyradis said was true?’ Polgara asked.

  ‘As far as it went. She’s still not taking sides, though.’

  ‘Then why did she come at all?’ Beldin asked.

  ‘She has her own task, and this was part of that. She must also give instructions to Zandramas.’